Page 72 of Insidious Threats
“He’s sleeping.”
“It wouldn’t hurt if you got some sleep, too.”
Ellie cracked a small smile. “Yeah, I know. It’s the second rule.”
36
10:20 P.M.
Pittsburgh International Airport
Leo kept his attention laser-focused on the emailed instructions from August while pretending not to notice the flight attendant looming over him with a frown. Finally, the man tapped him on the shoulder.
“Sir, I understand you’re traveling on special business, but I’m going to have to ask you to turn off your device.” The man lowered his gravelly voice.
Leo wondered what sort of‘special business’Hank had coded his ticket for. Did this man think Leo was an air marshal? Secret Service? He supposed it didn’t much matter. Either way, the guy had a job to do.
“Sorry. I was just getting my marching orders.” He made a point of putting his phone on airplane mode and then showed the flight attendant.
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your understanding.” He leaned down. “And just between us, it’s a silly rule. Cell phones don’t interfere with the cockpit equipment.”
“Maybe not anymore,” Leo told him. “It may have been before your time, but back in the day, they did.”
The flight attendant flashed him a baffled smile. Leo suddenly felt every year of his age, plus some. He turned off his overhead light, leaned back his head, and closed his eyes. By the time he fell asleep, the first leg of his trip would be almost over, and he’d be jarred awake to the noise and lights of Philadelphia’s airport. But, he might as well try to catch a catnap.
* * *
10:40 pm
Westchester County Airport
Sasha saton the very edge of the molded plastic chair at her departure gate. She’d made the mistake of leaning back earlier and her sweater had stuck to the seat back. She didn’t want to think too hard about what substance might have caused the adhesion.
Instead, she dialed Connelly’s mobile number for the fourth time since her arrival at the airport. And for the fourth time, the call rolled straight to voicemail. For the fourth time, she didn’t leave a message. If she weren’t afraid of waking the twins, she’d have tried the home landline. But at this hour, that was too dangerous.
She settled for thumbing out a quick text:
Hey, when you get this, please give me a call. Hope you’re already sleeping. If so, ping me in the AM. Just need to touch base about something. Love you, S
I tried, Maisy. I really did try.
She eyed the closed coffee kiosk through the locked gate with unabashed ire. Caroline had worked a miracle to get her to Idaho, but it wasn’t going to be pretty: Westchester to O’Hare to Denver to Sun Valley. Two stops, two plane changes, and just under ten hours of travel time—if every single thing broke her way. And what were the odds of that?
She knew she should obey her own rule and sleep now. She could get a cardboard cup of crappy coffee on the plane. She turned off her phone to conserve the battery because, of course, there was one lone outlet at the gate and a road warrior shouting financial buzzwords into his headset had claimed it for his laptop. She almost rested her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, but at the last second, she remembered the stickiness. She popped to her feet and took an aimless walk around the terminal until she found two empty seats with no armrest between them—a perfectly serviceable makeshift bed.
She smiled at her good luck and went to claim her napping spot. Then she saw the harried young mother, traveling alone with a toddler clinging to one hand and a baby in an infant carrier hanging over the crook of her free elbow. The woman was making a beeline for the seats. At the same moment, the finance bro strode purposefully toward the pair of seats.
There was only one thing to do. She nodded to the mom, then stepped directly into the guy’s path. He moved to his left. She stepped to her right. He juked right. She bobbed left. She wondered if they looked more like dance partners or boxing opponents to anyone who might be watching. He grunted in frustration. She craned her neck to see the mom settling her little one on the seats with a travel pillow and a fleece blanket. Then she took the baby out of the seat and, cradling the infant against her chest, eased herself onto the seat next to her toddler.
‘Thank you,’she mouthed when she caught Sasha’s eye.
Sasha nodded. She could sleep on the plane—probably. It would be fine. How much sleep did a person really need in order to converse intelligently with a bunch of computer geniuses, anyway?
37
7:45 AM local time
Sun Valley, Idaho
