Page 65 of Midnight Creed

In a matter of minutes, a man came out and gestured while he spoke to Dr. Avelyn. He pointed to around the corner of the building where Creed could see an aircraft as it taxied out to a runway. Only small bits and pieces of other aircraft could be seen.

In a matter of seconds, his cell phone lit up, the ringtone he’d designated for the veterinarian jolting both men in their seats.

“The flight just landed,” she said. “You can sit tight here. I’ll go check on things.”

“Okay.”

They watched her exit her vehicle, leaving Hannah sitting in the passenger seat. Brodie had volunteered to stay behind and keep all their dogs settled. It was the first time Creed had seen her actually make sure her cell phone was charged and close by.

Jason’s leg bounced, a nervous tick. Creed could feel the movement from where he sat.

“Do you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Your leg.”

“Oh, sorry.”

They were all on edge.

It must have only been thirty minutes later, but it felt like an hour when Hannah called.

“Dr. Avelyn’s on her way back. Rye, she’s pretty upset.”

“What’s going on?” He hit speaker so Jason could listen.

“The flight has only three dogs.”

“You mean on this flight? Is there another one following?”

“This is the only flight. She’s trying to get an explanation from her contacts. Evidently, they wouldn’t release the others.”

“The organization? Maybe the dogs were too weak or injured to fly.”

“No, Rye. They weren’t allowed to leave. They wouldn’t release them. Or at least, that’s what we’re being told.”

She didn’t need to tell him who “they” were. It had to be the Taliban. Dr. Avelyn had mentioned all the recent changes the animal rescue was subjected to since the Taliban took over. They restricted female workers and required the submission of dozens of documents for each animal. Not just proof of vaccinations, but ownership verification and certificates that might no longer exist.

“Sounds like they won’t let the others leave the country,” Hannah said.

“Bastards. They just realized how much the dogs are worth to us.”

As if to emphasize his point, lightning forked across the sky. A single clap of thunder followed, then the sky burst open with a downpour.

43

Florida

Maggie kept her distance. Peter Gregory was traveling west on I-10 and hadn’t stopped since he left Jacksonville.

Installing the GPS tracking device had been easier than she’d anticipated. Five Amtrak workers drove cars down ramps, emptying two levels of each train car. They did their work in a steady stream. The Priority Offloaded vehicles came first and lined up along a separate street for their owners to pick up. It was still two lanes away from where the passengers were to exit the building.

That door and kiosk to pick up the keys to the vehicles stayed slightly hidden by a long half wall that made sure passengers left the parking facility correctly. Posts and columns provided even more shadows.

Maggie had found the black Mercedes, twenty-four cars from the front of the line. It gave her plenty of time to make sure the magnetic number on the door matched Gregory’s.

Only one man saw her, a tired traveler dragging his roller board suitcase. He noted her ball cap and vest and simply nodded. As soon as he disappeared out of sight, Maggie pulled the GPS device out of her pocket. She bent to the ground as if she had dropped something and tucked the magnet inside the back tire well on the passenger side of the car.