Julia burst into laughter. “You’re welcome. But what I asked is if you want to check into a hotel for a few hours to get some sleep and fly home later in the morning.”
Heat crept up Miguel’s neck and into his cheeks. It was too dark in the car for her to see his embarrassment. “I’m not sleepy. But you’ve had a long day on the job plus tracking the Andersons, so if you want to get some sleep, I’m good with that.”
“On second thought I can sleep on the jet. The FBI director wasn’t thrilled with Trey allowing us to use its plane.”
“Okay.” Miguel pressed the gas pedal, and they sped toward the airport where the FBI’s private jet waited for them.
ALEXANDRIA, VIRGINIA
MARCH 1
Several government-issuedblack Suburbans lined the street in front of Barbara and Greg Washburn’s home. Barbara’s supporters crowded the sidewalks. They held signs with catchy slogans likeWash Out DenhamandBarbara Burning a Trail to the White House, and chanted Barbara’s name. She smiled and waved as she and her family climbed into the Suburbans, accompanied by Justice, Hutch, Tawny, Owen, and Luca. They wore similar white dress shirts, black pants and jackets, and dark shoes. Each carried a standard 9mm Glock and wore earpieces for communication. Earlier, the Laguna Beach friends had shared emotional, heartfelt farewells with Miguel. He hugged them, shook hands one last time, and wished them safety and good health on the campaign trail.
Justice lingered with Miguel beside the lead Suburban. “This is your mission, River. Protect Julia and bring the Andersons to justice.”
“Yes, Chief.”
“Remember everything I’ve taught you about how to handle yourself under duress. And if you need us, we’ll be there for you. No matter what.”
Justice and Miguel shared a final hug and pounded each other on the back. As he climbed behind the wheel of the Suburban, Justice declared, “Brothers forever.”
“Brothers forever,” Miguel repeated. He closed the driver’s door and watched the caravan proceed slowly down the street. His heart heaved with fiery emotion and fear that he’d never see his friends again.
Someone touched his shoulder. Julia. Miguel swallowed the heavy lump in his throat.
“This must be hard for you. I’m sorry, Miguel.”
The compassion in her voice caused another strong surge of emotion. Miguel pushed it down and opened the passenger’s door in the last Suburban. “Thanks. Let’s go.”
“You haven’t told me where we’re going.” Julia fastened her seat belt and waited for his answer.
“First stop, Pennsylvania.”
“What’s in Pennsylvania?”
“Not what. Who. We’re meeting Tex. We need every advantage he can give us.”
“Okay. Are we flying or driving?”
“Driving. Tex lives about three hours away.”
“You opposed to taking a train to Philly?”
“Yeah. Too expensive. We can get there on less than a tank of gas.”
“So, how will we fill the time?”
“We plot.”
Strategizing with Julia eased Miguel’s heartache over parting with his friends, as well as some of the fear and anxiety taking root inside him. Julia’s quick mind and intuition reminded him of Tawny, and her sometimes droll sense of humor was a reflection of Luca. He’d also seen firsthand her ability to handle herself in a dangerous situation. Against her advice, Miguel risked her ire and pissing off her SAC by joining the raid on theantique shop. Julia ran point on the op that proceeded smoothly until one of the drug runners fired on them. She narrowly missed being shot before all hell broke loose. In a rapid hail of gunfire, the agents took out the shooter and rounded up the others who fled during the chaos. One tried to dart past Miguel, and he stopped him with his forearm to the man’s face that broke his nose. The man fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Miguel didn’t doubt that Julia would make a great partner as they pursued the Andersons.
With clear weather and roads, they made good time and knocked on Tex’s door a little less than three hours later.
PENNSYLVANIA
MARCH 1
Miguel and Julia
