closed.
Cox snorted. “Oh, I’m sure that’ll cover all his expenses. You know he’s going to need more than that.”
Jim shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.”
Stepping forward, Mark took the envelope. Despite the limited amount, he realized he would need it. “Thank you.” The words lodged in his throat.
Nodding, Jim drummed his fingers on top of his briefcase and looked at Mark as if he had something he wanted to say, but instead, he swung the briefcase off the table and put his hand out. “You’re welcome.”
Confused, Mark looked at the hand, then up at Jim. He couldn’t do it. Even if they put him back in prison. “I…ah-”
“Never mind.” Jim dropped his hand and strode to the back of the room, disappearing out the door.
In the sudden silence, Mark tried to focus, but his mind was whirling, and he remembered Cox had said something about his assets. “My bank accounts?”
“Yes, they were immediately frozen when you were designated an enemy combatant. I wish I could tell you when it’ll be all cleared up, but I can’t say for sure.”
The eight hundred dollars didn’t seem so generous now. What would he do until his accounts were available? Mark pushed it from his mind. He could deal with that back in Chicago. Right now, he just needed to get out of here.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
At the airport an hour later, Mark approached the security checkpoint. People were taking off their shoes, and some were pulled out of line for no reason that Mark could tell. His hands began to sweat, and he swiped them on his thighs. He didn’t want to take his shoes off. Glancing at the man behind him, he started to ask what was going on, but that man had a cell phone to his ear, and just glared at him.
Mark’s mouth went dry as his turn approached, then a security guard tapped him on the shoulder. “Step to the side please.”
He hesitated. Freedom was so close. “Is…is something wrong?”
“No, sir. I just need to ask you a few questions.”
The phrase sent a chill through him. Jim and Bill said they were just going to ask a few questions. It was stupid to be worried. He had nothing to hide and others had been questioned. “Okay.”
It took only a few moments even though it felt like much longer, but in the end, they let him pass through. He tugged his shirt away from his body, feeling like he had just run a few sprints. With no bags, check in went quickly. Mark sank onto a chair and ran a hand through his hair. He tried to relax as he waited for the flight to be called, but he couldn’t keep still. His leg bounced and when he noticed, he stopped, but then began drumming his fingers on the armrests.
A harried looking woman approached. With one hand, she dragged a small suitcase on wheels, and a huge purse hung off her shoulder. Her other hand clutched the hand of a little girl.. The child poked a finger in her mouth and stared at him with wide brown eyes. “Sit in the chair, Olivia.” The child didn’t budge, just kept her gaze on him. Mark squirmed.
“It’s okay, honey.” She lifted the girl and set her in the chair. Mark gave her an encouraging smile. He’d always been good with the children that came to have their portraits taken. The girl scooted as far from Mark as she could. The woman stood beside the chair and looked at her watch before tugging on the straps of her purse. It looked heavy.
He saw that all the other chairs were taken. The woman should sit beside her child. He stood, waving towards the chair. “Here, you can have my seat, ma’am.” Mark shoved his hands in his pockets as he stepped away. His heart raced, and he tried to shake off his nerves. It was just a mom and her kid. Nothing scary about that. Except that he had only spoken to a handful of people in the last year, and most of them had been interrogating him.
“Oh no, that’s all right. I don’t mind standing.” She plunged her hand into the depths of her purse, but one strap came off her arm, upending the bag. The contents tumbled out onto the floor. “Shoot!” Mark gaped at the pile of miscellaneous items. He was sure that MacGyver could build a whole car with the contents of that purse. Bending to pick up the items, the flustered woman knocked the handle of her suitcase, and it tipped, resulting in more angry words from the mother. The little girl began to cry. “Olivia, hon, it’s fine. Don’t cry.” Her voice shook.
Mark bent, retrieving a lipstick, a medication bottle, and some change that had rolled under the chair. He then righted the suitcase. “Here.” He handed over the items. “Please. Take my seat. It’s okay.”
“Oh, bless you.” The woman gave in and dropped onto the chair. “You have no idea what a bad day this has been.” She fanned her face and chuckled. “No, make that a bad week. Our flights have been canceled and delayed due to bad weather.”
Mark nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve had some rough days recently. It’s no fun. I hope things go better for you.” His stomach rumbled and he wished he would have thought to buy some food before checking in. There was no time now. Oh, well. He would live.
The woman grinned at him. “You hungry?”
He cleared his throat, embarrassed that she’d heard. “Uh, just a little.”
Reaching into another pocket of the purse, she pulled out a chocolate bar. “Here. I know it’s not much, but take it.”
Mark hesitated, and she leaned forward, pressing it into his hand. “I’m not supposed to eat the stuff and I have another for Olivia.”
“Thank you. I appreciate this.” He brought the bar up to his nose, even through the wrapper, he could smell the aroma. Heaven.
The woman raised an eyebrow and Mark couldn’t help letting a small smile quirk his mouth. “It’s the first one I’ve had in a really long time.”
She waved to him, then sighed when the flight was called. “Have a good day.”
The plane circled O’Hare for thirty minutes in a holding pattern due to rain and sleet. Traffic on the highways below crawled along, the headlights snaking around the airport and branching in towards the city. Looking south, he saw the Sears Tower, its lights hazy, but reaching high into the twilight sky. His throat tightened. It wasn’t the most beautiful skyscraper in the city, the Hancock was more elegant, but the Sears Tower represented Chicago. It jutted up out of the prairie, bold and broad, soaring head and shoulders above the surrounding buildings. Mark craned his head as the plane banked and he lost sight of the building. How could anyone think to destroy something like that? He sat back with a sigh. How could anyone think that he’d wanted to destroy it?
Mark stood on the moving sidewalk inside the terminal. Normally, he disdained them, preferring to walk, but he was drained. As the belt carried him through the terminal, it suddenly occurred to him that nobody knew he was coming home. In Charleston, he hadn’t had time to call his parents, and they lived four hours north of Chicago, just outside of Madison. In this weather, no way would they be able to come down to see him.
He stepped out of the airport, the blast of cold damp air cutting right through the thin shirt he wore. Nobody had thought to provide a coat for him. In the south, it was still warm, but in Chicago, winter was just beginning to flex her muscles.
The cab should be warm enough and when he got home, he could dig out his winter gear. After asking for an address, the cabbie glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. “Dude? You crazy? Where’s your coat?”
Mark shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking when I got on the plane. Forgot it.” He tried to suppress a shiver, but the chill swept his body.
The man shook his head, but he reached down and turned the heat on high.
“Thanks.” Mark hunched into the seat, and soon, the warmth of the cab soaked into him. They got caught in the same traffic that had been visible from the plane, and it wasn’t long before he began blinking, each time, his eyes staying shut longer. He hoped the cabbie was honest, because he was beat. He’d tried to doze on the flight, but was so keyed up, he couldn’t relax.
“Here you go.”
Mark started and sat forward so fast, he bumped his head on the roof of the car. “What?” He rubbed his head
