The Red Cell by André Gallo (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

Gulick opened the right rear door for her and went around to let himself in on the other side.

“Well,” Steve said, “At least Gulick knows protocol. Let’s go. Call McCabe and Hunter. Tell them to meet us at the information desk. Come to think of it,” he said before turning the corner to follow the car, “You’d better ask Vanness to meet us there, too. We won’t be able to get beyond security, but he probably will.”

***

“Oh my goodness!” Aisha blurted, as the car headed for the airport, “I forgot to take my pill.”

“Your pill?” Gulick said, looking at her questioningly. “Anything I can do? Should we stop at a pharmacy?”

“Oh, I’ll be all right. I’ve got some in my pocketbook. I’ll just go to the ladies’ room after we get to the airport.”

“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” he asked, now sounding genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I should not have said anything.” She paused for a moment as if deciding whether to explain. “Well, I might as well tell you, since we’ll be traveling companions. I get fainting spells. Can I trust you with this secret? I assume you know how to keep secrets.” She smiled at him, having decided her plan would work only if she appeared to be his willing companion. Her read of Gulick was that if the timing on this trip was truly coincidental, he would relish establishing a connection with her. If, on the other hand, he was on the plane to make sure she returned to U.S. territory, where she would be arrested, any hope to escape depended on his conviction she was totally unaware of the suspicion that surrounded her.

She took out a monogrammed handkerchief from her pocketbook and pressed it against her forehead, giving Gulick a weak grin. “I’ll be all right. I just need to take my pill.”

***

 “Yeah, we got here before they did,” McCabe said. “They came in together and they both registered at the KLM window. Their flight is 723, transiting Amsterdam, destination Dulles airport. Hunter and Vanness are keeping an eye on them. Their flight takes off from Gate 72. Vanness said he can get through to the passenger side. So he’s the only one who will be able to confirm she actually gets on the KLM flight.”

“What do you mean,” Steve asked, surprised, “They both checked in? Are you telling me Gulick is traveling?”

“Sure looks that way,” McCabe said. “I guess he’s going back with her.”

“Headquarters isn’t aware he’s chosen to be her personal bodyguard. Trent didn’t say anything last time I spoke with him,” Steve said, looking toward the signage indicating the direction to the gates. A large electronic board over the information desk listed all outgoing flights and informed him Dalton’s flight was at 19:50 hours, while the Tehran Air flight was at 18:45. He looked at his watch; it was 18:00.

“According to Kristen at breakfast yesterday, that’s just the kind of thing Gulick would do to advance his career,” Kella said. “‘Madame Director, I personally captured and brought to justice the most dangerous spy of the century.’” She stood on tiptoes and spread her elbows wide, mimicking Gulick.

“Well, I still want to monitor her departure,” Steve said, “And then we can report it to headquarters.”

“And then, we can go to Paris right?” Kella said.

“Absolutely,” Steve said mentally crossing his fingers. “But I won’t feel right until we’ve got control over Yosemani.”

28. Zaventem Airport

While she walked through security and then through passport control, Victoria Aisha Dalton searched the faces of the Belgian officials for any sign she might be on some sort of watch list. Her heart quickened when a second official entered the control booth, while her passport was still lying open in front of the young man in uniform who was flipping through the pages. Had he pressed an alarm button under the desk?

The second man was considerably older. A supervisor?

The young man stood and, glancing in her direction, exchanged a few words with his superior, raising all of her antennas. She glanced around but could not see Gulick. The two men then changed places. The older man glanced at her passport, looked at her then stamped a clean page and handed back the document as he looked for the next traveler.

Hoping she was ahead of Gulick, she was disappointed to see him waiting for her past passport control. Then she remembered he was probably carrying a black passport, which again infuriated her. They walked together past the lace and chocolate shops. One large store was dedicated to the Belgian cartoonist Hergé and the adventures of Tintin, his internationally famous creation. Although she was aware of Gulick trying to tell her something, her mind was rehearsing what she was going to do and the many ways Murphy’s Law could interfere.

Just then, Laila walked out of the Tintin bookstore and right past them. Aisha looked up at Gulick, but he gave no sign of recognition or suspicion. As far as he was concerned, Laila was just one of hundreds of people going to or from their gates and frequenting the duty-free stores.

“How are you feeling, Ms. Dalton?” Gulick asked.

“I’ll be okay, but I need to find a ladies’ room, so I can take my pill.”

They walked along the concourse for another few minutes and could see Gate 72 ahead of them, when Aisha pointed to a snack bar and said, “Why don’t you go sit over there and get yourself a beer or something. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She nodded toward a ladies’ room across from the snack bar.

She looked back to confirm Gulick was parked at the snack bar, facing her and talking to a waiter. She pushed the door open and entered the restroom. Laila was washing her hands at the sink and motioned they were alone. She quickly