Page 19 of Radar (Iniquus Certified Cerberus Tactical K9 #2)

Xander

Friday

Newark, NJ

Xander swiped his phone open when he saw Hiro’s name.

“Where are you?” Hiro asked without a hello.

“I’m in Newark. I just watched Orest Kalinsky get on the plane. He’s got a straight shot to Fairbanks, so we know where he’ll be for the next few hours.”

“You’re not on it with him?” Hiro asked.

“They were overbooked. I’m flying to Chicago, then on. If the flights are on time, I’ll only be a couple of hours behind him.” Xander found a seat in the back corner and sat, signaling Radar to curl up beside him. “Maybe get someone from FBI Fairbanks to keep an eye on him until I can get there.”

“I’ll have Finley reach out. You brought your dog didn’t you?” Hiro asked.

“Radar? Yeah, I’ll be able to do a thorough check on Orest’s rooms for hidden thumb drives. So, it’s good we’re on separate flights from Orest. It would be hard to keep my profile low if I flew from Newark and showed up where he is. Orest didn’t get to his place in the family by being a dumbass.”

“What are you doing now?”

“After Orest climbed aboard, I moved to my gate, then watched his flight take off from the window. And now I wait. And wait. And wait. It’s a good test to see how a working dog line of German Shepherd does with a whole lot of boredom and sitting still.”

Xander could hear Hiro crunching and could imagine him talking while downing a bag of chips. “What’s the strategy?”

“For Radar’s energy?” Xander clarified. “This morning, break of dawn, Cerberus put him on their running apparatus until he was tuckered out. They put a Malinois named Voodoo next to him. This machine lets the dogs run as fast or slow as they want. They took off like they were rocket fuel. They were racing for the gold, and it was a sight to see. Goose bumps.”

“Did you take a video?” Hiro asked.

“Not allowed in their facility. Tight security.”

“Tightest,” Hiro agreed. “The I is always dotted. The T is always crossed. It’s why we put such faith in their professionalism. Mistakes cost lives. Do you have the information about Orest's overnight stay in Fairbanks?”

“Upscale. To stay out of their sight, I have reservations at the hotel next door. Considerably less posh, but I was able to book a room straight across from his. Depending on his application of trade craft, I might be able to get something.”

“He’s staying in Fairbanks a single night tonight,” Hiro said. “He’ll spend the bulk of Saturday in Fairbanks, then at fifteen-hundred, a car service will pick him up. He’s heading to a lodge in Lumberjack.”

“That’s where Orest’s dogs are training?” Xander asked.

“Exactly. His trainer has a cabin out that way. It’s two hours due east.”

“Any ideas about what he’s up to in Fairbanks?” Xander reached into his side pocket for a protein bar. Hiro’s chewing was making him hungry. “Is it just a layover?”

“I don’t have any direct communications on it. But Orest is funding an arctic animal study there. I’d imagine he’ll stop by the lab.”

“Arctic animals, that’s a hobby project, right?” Xander asked. “Nothing to do with this case?”

“I can’t imagine how arctic animals could or would have anything to do with the machine.

But I’ll dig in deeper. Okay, back to Newark.

We checked the tapes, and Orest has the carry-on and checked only one suitcase.

When you get to Fairbanks, you’ll want to go through both.

You’ll find all of the search warrants in your file.

But Finley sent a search order to FBI Fairbanks to pull the checked bag and give it a quick look-see.

They’ll be checking the bag for any substances that might be the Zoric neurotoxins, and then it will be put on the conveyor with the others. The inspection should go unnoticed.”

“Did York come up positive for neurotoxins?”

“Long’s here with me.” Hiro crunched. “He said too much time went by. But York’s oxygenation levels were wonky even for a heart crisis, so we’re working on the assumption that he was poisoned. Watch yourself.”

Xander stilled. “Go back. Say that last again? Orest checked a suitcase?”

“Correct.”

“And he had another bag?” Xander asked.

“Carry-on.”

“He didn’t carry anything onto the plane.”

“Are you sure?” Hiro asked.

“I’m sure. I wondered how someone could go on such a long flight without a bag of things to support him and wondered what he had in his pockets.”

“Okay, before there’s a freak out. I’m going back to review tapes. Sit tight, I’m moving the video to your feed.” There was a pause. “Okay, you should have it now.”

The crew sitting near Xander had their heads down, scrolling on their phones. One by one, they popped their heads up, their eyes wide, their postures rigid. Then, as a group, they rose and turned to look out the window and up into the sky.

Xander put a hand on Radar’s head as he watched the grainy security feed. There was Orest in a crush of people. Xander could only see him from the shoulders up.

He paused the screen and went back. “I think I have it. Hang on.”

Xander moved back through the tape, and yeah.

He hadn’t made a mistake. Pressed by the flow of humanity, Orest had been shoulder to shoulder with another man, but when he peeled off and went into the men’s room, he had a sizeable briefcase in his hand.

“I’m taking a still shot of what I’m seeing.

” Xander took a screenshot, then spread the view wider. “Silver bag. Right hand.”

“That would be it.”

Xander kept watching. Orest went into the men’s room. Moments later, Orest came out empty-handed.

“I’ll get back with you.” Xander ended the call, snatched up his backpack, gripped Radar’s lead, and tapped his thigh to shift Radar to work mode.

Radar jumped to his feet and glued himself to Xander’s side.

Sliding through the crowd, Xander put Radar protectively against the wall. They moved, salmon-like, against the flow toward the restroom.

Stepping through the opening into the men’s room, Radar did what Radar always did in a new environment: He cast his gaze around the room, then stuck his nose in the air.

Xander took a survey of the area, loath to get Radar’s sniffer going and letting people know a search was underway.

They moved past the row of urinals and sinks to the stalls down to the far wall, where Xander gave Radar the slightest hand signal to search for explosives.

Then, Xander slid his hand down Radar’s lead to keep him close.

In this configuration, they paced the bathroom.

No hit.

Xander felt zero relief.

Glancing around, he saw a man watching him in the mirror, a slight frown between his eyes.

The stalls were full, and Xander wasn’t about to whip out his dick and take a leak as a cover. That seemed too vulnerable a position to put himself into, so he opted to wash his hands.

To keep Radar’s tail free from being trod upon by men’s feet, he signaled Radar under the counter.

Soaping up and scrubbing his hands together, Xander used the time to scan for any place that Orest could have put a case that would have gone unnoticed.

Just as Xander came to the conclusion that it had to be under the sink, Radar was tapping his foot.

Xander bent down and saw the case. Horror slid up his thighs into his ass, where he clenched it tight to keep it from rising higher into his system.

He messaged a picture of his findings.

There was an immediate ping in return.

Hiro: Sit with it and see if it’s a pass. I’ll get someone there in the next 90 minutes.

Xander: I’m not cool with that timeline.

Hiro: Is it ticking?

Xander: Funny.

Hiro: What does Radar say?

Xander: Electronics. I should walk this out to a big field somewhere.

We’ll stay with it, but I can’t have a Zoric family briefcase anywhere near a population center.

We need a bomb team that can try to keep this thing intact and not blow it up.

I doubt it’s a bomb. Radar isn’t picking up any explosive scents.

But if it’s got some component of the machine, we can’t lose the opportunity.

Hiro: Or it’s neither bomb nor death machine. But it can’t be nothing. They could have planned a brush past, and the person’s plane was late. If that’s the case, I’d like to know who the player is. Sit tight.

Xander: Risk too high. What’s inside could look innocuous enough. He did get through security with it. With York in the hospital, reasons undetermined, I’m not leaving this out for the public to find.

Hiro: Yeah, Orest could assume that if someone other than the intended recipient saw it, they’d call security. Security would take it out to the field and explode it without investigating the contents.

Xander: Plausible.

Xander wished this were a phone conversation because texting took time. And time didn’t feel like it was on their side here.

Hiro: Sending you a map. Get to this door. Security will meet you and take you to an empty field. Good luck.

Did Xander want to pick up the case? That would be a resounding “Hell no.” If he were Orest Kalinsky, he would have smeared the handle with neurotoxins—not that Xander knew how that all worked.

Xander pulled a poop bag from Radar’s vest and slid his hand in like a glove, then reached for the case.

With Radar at his side, his lead draped over Xander’s shoulder to give himself use of both hands, they moved into the swarm of humanity coursing toward their destinations.

Xander followed the red line on his GPS. It took him the long way, but it kept them off the main arteries.

Xander’s deodorant was failing him. His hair prickled as it stood on end.

Was he carrying death?

What the hell was in this bag?

Radar was picking up on Xander’s anxiety. His ears back, his eyes wide, with quick flicks of his tongue, he lowered his stance and trotted next to Xander, maintaining zero space between the two. What happened to Xander would happen to Radar.

When he reached the stairs, Xander tore toward the door, taking two steps at a time. He slammed his hip into the bar release and barreled out into a blast of frigid air.

A man stood with his walkie-talkie crackling, as he scanned the sky with binoculars.

“DIA.” Xander held up his credentials. “Are you here for me?”

“Guy with a dog and silver bag is going to burst through the door, run him over to the field,” the guy repeated his orders.

Xander looked around for a golf cart-type deal and saw none. “Guess we’re going to actually be running,” he said, lifting his chin to ask for a direction.

The guy pointed northwest, and they broke into a fast-paced jog.

“What’s going on with the binoculars?” Xander asked, remembering how the flight crew had all lifted to their feet and looked out the window.

“The tower lost communications with the planes,” he said breathlessly.

“The planes? All the planes? There’s no contact at all?” Xander looked down at the briefcase.

Orest, you son of a bitch.

If this were a Zoric play, could it be the Zoric play?

Or maybe there was something bigger and they needed a distraction. It would, for sure, cause all hell to break loose, and everyone’s eyes would be focused here.

Loss of communications with the pilots at this hub of activity was beyond disastrous. At that moment, thousands of lives were at risk.

This could be another 9-11.

Would there be a war?

Damned straight there would be.

As they got to the end of the macadam, and Xander had his foot on the grass, he yelled, “Don’t follow me. Find shelter.”

The guard didn’t need to be asked twice. He bolted as if he were on fire.

As Xander stepped off the macadam, the air around him became acrid. “Radar, down stay.”

Radar slammed to a stop, lying on his belly.

With his elbow pulled across his nose and mouth, squinting his eyes to protect them from whatever was seeping from the case, Xander raced full out to get as far from humanity as possible.

In the middle of the field, Xander dropped the case, stepped back, and, crouching low, called Hiro, giving him a quick sketch of what was happening.

“Acid? Can you open the bag without burning yourself?” Hiro growled.

As soon as Xander popped the locks, he jumped back.

So far, nothing blew.

Radar yipped and barked but stayed where he’d been told.

Using a tactical pen from the side pocket of his own backpack, Xander lifted the lid, but he already knew what he was going to find. He told Hiro. “I’m watching everything melt.”

There was nothing to be done about it.

This was the same technology that child porn collectors used on their computers and thumb drives. If the password was entered incorrectly three times, the acid was released, and everything was obliterated as it melted into a gooey mess that quickly solidified.

Xander glanced at his watch.

Now here was the question: was the communications glitch between the tower and the pilots caused by Orest Kalinsky?

It fit right in with a typical Zoric style of attacks.

If this was the apparatus causing the problem, Orest might have cut that operation very close.

After all, he was one of the planes in the sky.

Walking far enough away that neither he nor Radar breathed in the unknown chemicals, Xander lay down, resting his head on Radar’s haunch.

Waiting for the FBI to show up and collect the carry-on remains, Xander kept an eye on the clouds to make sure that if planes collided overhead, he and Radar weren’t hanging out on the crash site.