The Greatest of These by Greg Wendleton (have you read this book .txt) 📗

as we ascended through ten-thousand feet. The chop subsided and after a few more minutes the pilot introduced himself, Bob, I think and announced we had reached thirty-five-thousand feet, our cruising altitude. Blah, blah, blah, enjoy your flight and let us know if we can do anything to make it more comfortable. Something like that.

After we had been in flight for an hour or so, the man next to me said his name was Jerry and asked, “Are you headed to Maui for pleasure?”

“Not really. More like a family emergency.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. So, you have family living on Maui?”

“No, it’s complicated. My neighbors are on vacation and I received word that they might be having…difficulties. I couldn’t reach them, so I booked this flight.”

“I see, Mister…”

“Oh, sorry. Cooper, Garret Cooper.”

“Well, Garret Cooper, my name is Jerry Presley and I’m an FBI agent. I work out of the Honolulu Field Office, but I reside on Maui.” As he pulled out his business card and handed it to me he continued, “Maybe I could be of some assistance.”

“Well, Special Agent Presley, I’ll keep that in mind. I really appreciate the offer. I want to see if I can locate them first. If I can’t, I’ll sure give you a call.”

“Do you suspect some sort of foul play might be involved?”

“Oh, I hope not. I’m hoping that they got sidetracked or lost their phones or something like that.”

“Well, don’t lose my card Garret Cooper.”

“Yes, sir. I mean, I won’t lose it and I’ll call you if I can’t locate them quickly.”

We both went silent after that and were served a meal; of dry chicken with some type of gravy, or sauce, or glaze, some off-color vegetables and a square of lemon, or lime cake. Honestly, my thoughts were on Chad and Jamie and, of course, Fonda, not the food that had been presented on my tray table.

To pass some time I cued up the entertainment system and played a movie. It wasn’t a new release, but one of the Mission Impossible movies with Tom Cruise saving the world. I think it was Ghost Protocol. It seemed appropriate for the mission I had facing me on Maui and back home in San Antonio. Pretty much impossible.

After eating and watching the movie we still had over two hours remaining. I looked over at Special Agent Jerry Presley and he was reading a paperback novel. I thought everyone read from their iPad or a Kindle these days. I decided to ask him a question.

“Excuse me, Special Agent Presley.”

“Please, just call me Jerry.”

“Yes sir, Jerry. I was wondering, if I can’t locate my friends, how would you be able to help me?”

“Well, I do know most of the local law enforcement personnel on the island and I have a lot of contacts that I can make inquiries of. It would be more off the record as opposed to an FBI matter. I deal more with financial crimes, terror threats and kidnappings.”

I mulled over what Jerry had said for a few moments before responding. “Well, I’m praying that none of those circumstances are in play with Chad and Jamie.”

“I hope not as well. But, if you don’t find them and don’t call me, I’m going to be very upset with you, personally and professionally.”

“Yes sir, I understand.”

We kept to ourselves the rest of the flight and soon we were making our final approach into the Kahului Airport. I could catch a glimpse of the sun as it was setting on the distant horizon as we dropped lower and closer to the runway. A smooth touchdown by Captain Bob and a brief taxi had us at our gate right on schedule.

After we were parked and the seatbelt light was turned off, Special Agent Presley stood and grabbed his travel bag from the overhead bin. He gave me a stern look and said, “I expect to hear from you one way or another by Thursday. Understood?”

“Yes sir, completely understood. I appreciate your interest.”

Special Agent Jerry Presley nodded and confidently strode off the plane.

I waited a few moments before joining the crowd shuffling down the aisle, out the door and into the jetway. As we made our entrance into the gate area and the main terminal I stopped and looked around gathering my wits and seeking any signs of unusual characters. Without making direct eye contact I noticed two men sitting side by side also scanning the arriving passengers. They didn’t fit the stereotypical Hawaii tourist. Both men were thickly built, wearing cargo pants, long sleeved Under Armour tee shirts, ball caps and gaiter masks. Hell, they looked more like what I was supposed to look like than I ever had. My money is on these two characters being on Conrad’s payroll.

I ducked in behind a group of college aged kids, most likely on an early spring break, and headed for baggage claim.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Conrad’s secure email account dinged with an incoming email message. He hoped it was from his three compatriots in Hawaii. It was and it was simple:

Have packages secured and headed to safe house for interrogation.

A wicked grin spread across Conrad’s rugged face. After more than forty years as an operative for the CIA and on his own, he had survived numerous scrapes with targets that wanted to do him as much harm as he wished to deliver. Calling him rugged was actually being quite kind. If the truth was told, he was pretty hard to look at. They say God makes two kinds of heads, the ugly ones he covers with hair and the beautiful ones he makes bald. Conrad was the exception to that rule. His head was shaved and was misshapen and scarred. Hats were invented for men like Conrad.

As soon as approval had been granted for emergency use of the two COVID vaccines available in the United States, Conrad had been thinking of a way to create a final, big score that could set him and his chosen team up for