Gideon’s Sword

“I understand.”

“Can we do this really, really quietly?” Gideon pleaded. “If we spook this guy or his accomplices…” He let his voice trail off.

Now he had Longbaugh one hundred percent on his side.

“I’m on it.” The man rose. “Come with me.”

The central security operations room lay in the bowels of the airport, and it was very impressive, walls of video screens and consoles with all the latest gear. The room was dim and hushed, dozens of people staring at monitors, not just of airport locations, but also feeds from bag scanners and X-ray machines and cams observing the taxiways and hangars.

Their efficiency was astounding. Twenty minutes later Gideon was exiting customs with a fresh, piping-hot DVD.

39

Got a movie for us tonight,” Gideon said, sliding into the white leather banquette in the Essex House lounge, bestowing a smile on Mindy Jackson. He turned to the waiter. “Bring me what she’s having, wet and dirty, two olives.”

“What movie?” asked Jackson.

“The Mark Wu show.” He laid down the DVD. “Shows him from the time he exited the plane to the taxi stand.”

She laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’ve already seen that show. It sucks — nothing on it. Nada.”

Gideon felt his face turn red. “You’ve seen it?”

“Are you kidding? That was the first thing we looked at. How’d you get it?”

The drink arrived, and Gideon took a swig to cover his disappointment. “I used those diplomatic embosses you put on my passport. And a little yelling.”

“One of these days you’re going to run into somebody who doesn’t fall for your bullshit.”

“So far, so good.”

She shook her head. “Not everyone in the world is stupider than you.”

“I haven’t seen it,” he said. “Will you watch it with me—?upstairs in our room?”

“Our room?” Her smile turned a little cold. “What happened in Dubai stays in Dubai. We’ll watch it in my room. You find your own place to sleep. No more pooling, to use your charming phrase.”

Gideon made an effort to look as if he didn’t care.

She polished off her drink and rose. “You’re going to be disappointed.”

“I already am.”

Up in her room, he fired up the DVD player and slid in the disk. The first shot showed a wide angle of the gate, with a time, date, and location stamp running along the bottom. After a moment Wu appeared, looking much as Gideon remembered him: fringe of hair, domed forehead, mousey, somewhat wan. He walked through the frame, threading a group of passengers waiting for the next flight.

The DVD then cut through a series of rapid frames, one after another, showing Wu walking down the terminal, entering passport control, waiting in the interminable NON-US-CITIZEN line, going through passport control, breezing through customs, then walking out and down the escalators.

“Hey. There’s you!” said Jackson. “Like a deer in the headlights.”

“Very funny.”

The DVD ended outside, with the Escape driving off.

Gideon rubbed his eyes. He felt like a damn fool, taking such a risk at the airport — a risk that might well come back to haunt him — for nothing.

“I’m tired,” said Jackson. “I’m jet-lagged, I didn’t sleep a wink last night, thanks to you. Do you mind?”

Gideon was staring at the image of the car, frozen on the screen. “There’s just one thing I’d like to look at again—”

“Out.”

“No, really. Something I’d like to see again. Right at the beginning.”

“What?”

“When Wu walks through those waiting people. Did you see there was an Asian woman there with a boy?”

“There were a lot of Asians.”

“Yes, but — I want to see it again.”

She sighed, turned back to the screen. They watched it again.

“There!” said Gideon abruptly, causing her to jump.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Watch again.” He retracked the video and went through it in slow motion.

“I still didn’t see anything. Trust me, our experts have examined this tape in detail.”

“Quiet and watch…There!” He froze the frame. “A classic sleight. A reverse palm-out manip.”

“A what?”

He felt himself blush. “I studied magic.” He didn’t go into the reasons why he had studied magic. “You learn how to manipulate smallish pieces of paper. Magicians call such moves ‘manips.’ Usually they’re for cards.” He backed up the DVD and went through it again, frame by frame. “Check it out. The boy drops the teddy bear as Wu approaches…she leans over to pick it up…anyone watching would be following her hand picking up the teddy bear. But look at her left hand…you see her left palm is facing out, wrist straight…Then Wu goes past, and afterward her left hand is closed and the wrist slightly bent.”

He ran it through it yet again, frame by frame.

“I think I saw it,” she said doubtfully. “He passed her something.”

“No, no! It’s a reverse — she passed him something. And she did it in a way to hide it from anybody watching from any angle.”

“Why would she pass him something?”

“No idea.” Stopping the replay and getting a small piece of hotel notepaper, he demonstrated the move.

“I’ll be damned. But if she passed him a piece of paper, where is it?”

“Who knows? I expect he destroyed it when he realized he was being pursued.”

“That woman,” said Jackson, “is key. We’ve got to find her.”

Gideon nodded.

She turned to him. “We’ll split up the job. You look for the boy, I’ll look for the woman.”

“How in the world could I find the boy—?” But then he stopped, having noticed something else in the video; something that she, and everyone else, had apparently overlooked.

Jackson was already putting on her coat, gathering her wallet. “Call me if you find anything. I’ll do likewise.”

40

Tom O’Brien’s stubbled face slipped away from his supporting palm, and he awoke with a jerk. He glanced blearily over at the clock: just past ten. He’d been asleep at his desk for several hours and both his legs were