Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

tilted the newspaper toward her and pointed at the headline on page four.

    FedEx to Ship Replica Just in Time for America’s Regatta

    “This is our only feasible way in.” He watched for Sydney’s reaction as she began reading the article. Her eyes bulged and then slammed into him.
    “What are you suggesting, Danny?”
    “That we become stowaways on the U.S.S. Monitor .”

Chapter 55
    The FedEx distribution center on the northeast corner of the airport was decorated with signs trumpeting FedEx’s latest triumph. The company was just a few hours away from attempting the most important delivery in its history. Two sets of bleachers were being erected in front of a ten-foot high chain-link fence. Between the bleachers was a stage with five folding chairs on either side of a podium. On the far side of the fence sat a massive 747 jet. Its hinged jaw was open wide, the top half of its mouth folded up toward the sky. The bottom part was split in half, and a ramp protruded out like a giant steel tongue. Sydney gazed into its belly. The darkness inside it seemed to go on forever.
    “You ready?” Danny asked her as he strapped on the backpack containing the lawsuit documents. She was sure he could probably see the nerves pulsing under her skin. He put a hand on her shoulder. “You’ll do fine. You look stunning.”
    Sydney took a deep breath and let it out. “Thank you, Danny.”
    “No one would ever guess you showered and dressed at a truck stop.”
    Sydney laughed. As she did, the tension in her body eased. Then she steeled herself and started toward the hangar’s office in a confident stride. Danny played his part perfectly, as he trudged along on her heels. Other than the handful of workers who were putting the final touches on the public relations event, the place was empty. Sydney hoped that Danny’s plan would work. It required her to perform a fair share of acting, and she hoped she would be up to the task. She remembered the American movies she had seen over the years. The actors would typically use their bloated muscles and an unnecessary amount of guns and bombs to gain access to secured areas. Sydney was only armed with a form-fitting suit she purchased a little over an hour ago, a single pen, and a used notepad.
    She knocked on the office door as Danny pulled down on the John Deere baseball cap he found in the back of the stolen truck. The doorknob jerked, and the door swung open. They were greeted by a burly, mustached man in a purple and white FedEx uniform, whose demeanor immediately changed on looking up and into a set of gorgeous emerald eyes.
    “Hello,” Sydney smiled as she emphasized her French accent. “My name is Simone La Rouche. I am a reporter with Le Monde . I was told to meet Dean Feldman here to cover this event.”
    The man’s moustache trembled, as he tried to speak to the most beautiful woman he would ever meet. “I-I’m sorry, ma’am, but Mr. Feldman won’t be here for another few hours.”
    Sydney curled her lips into a pout for a few seconds before turning them up into a smile. “That is actually better.” The man’s face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, my English sometimes fails me. What I mean is that my cameraman and I can look over the area to determine the best shots before Mr. Feldman gets here.” Sydney pleaded her case for open access to the hangar by latching onto the man’s arm. “Maybe you can show me around?”

Chapter 56
    Danny couldn’t blame Ed the hangar manager for getting lost in Sydney Dumas as he led her around the hangar like an excited puppy. With the money that Danny had taken out of the ATM on the eastern edge of the city, Sydney had entered an Ann Taylor store and purchased a spectacular cream-colored suit with matching shoes. The skirt came down just above her kneecaps, giving Danny the opportunity to watch her toned calves work underneath her olive skin. The bottom of the jacket caressed the top of her backside, as the skirt clung to each cheek with every step. Nope, Danny couldn’t blame old Ed at all.
    Danny was still worried about having to use the ATM machine, but he had no other choice. The FBI hadn’t frozen his checking account, which didn’t surprise him. Most law enforcement agencies learned years ago that monitoring account usage made it easier to track suspects. Plus, forcing a suspect to engage in clandestine activities or even commit more crimes to finance their time on the lam didn’t go over so well in