Read Online Fog of War (Justin Hall # 3) by Ethan Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ethan Jones
Tags: General Fiction
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flaring temper came from his Scottish father. His fiancée, Anna, had fairer skin and blue eyes. She used to work for CIS Legal Services in Ottawa, but after they fell in love during the Arctic Wargame operation, she left CIS to avoid any conflicts of interest. Now an in-house counsel for a large multinational corporation, Anna was more easygoing and calmer, matching Justin’s wits and bringing some much-needed balance to his life.
He turned a few more pages, then stood up, glanced to the right and scanned the faces in the ever-changing crowd. He paced along the hall and back. He stuffed the magazine in his suitcase, rolled it behind him, and returned to Starbucks. The digital clock on the wall told him Carrie was going to show up at any minute. He ordered another espresso for him and a grande caffè mocha without whipped cream and a blueberry muffin for her.
Just as he was picking them up, he heard Carrie’s voice behind him, “Hey, wanted man.”
“Hi, Carrie.” He turned around and fell into her arms.
“You look good,” he said when they broke their embrace.
“No, I don’t. Just came back from a ten-hour flight, after another flight for three hours from Moscow to Frankfurt and another one from Grozny to Moscow. Not to mention the layovers. My hair’s a mess and I feel so dirty.”
Carrie had a small figure, a bit shorter than Justin, and he stood at five feet ten inches. He looked at her auburn hair flowing down her shoulders, then at her gray-blue eyes. “I think your hair is great.”
Carrie shrugged. “Thanks.”
“How was your trip?” Justin asked.
“Uneventful, but for a sick turbulence halfway through, over the ocean. A couple of passengers threw up. It was gross.”
She took her caffè mocha and smiled. Justin nodded.
“Hmmm, I really needed this, thank you,” she said after taking a sip of the hot liquid. Then she took a bite of the muffin. “How was your flight?”
“OK, I guess. We had some turbulence too, but not much.”
“Were you able to get some sleep?”
“Maybe an hour or so.”
He rolled his suitcase. Carrie picked up hers, and they left the coffee shop.
“I’ve arranged for a rental,” Justin said. “Our colleagues wanted to send someone to pick us up, but I declined their offer so we can talk before this meeting.”
“I’ve got to run to the washroom.”
Five minutes later, Carrie looked refreshed. She had tied her hair in a semi-ponytail. Her face was glowing. She had applied some makeup, and there were no signs of sleep or fatigue in her eyes.
They took the AeroTrain to the main terminal, then walked to the Hertz rental office. Justin refused the clerk’s first offer—a Lincoln Town Car on which he could have gotten a great deal—opting instead for his own pick, a blue Chevy Aveo. Justin sat behind the steering wheel, Carrie in the front passenger seat. They drove out of the lot, then Justin parked before they merged with the traffic on Dulles Access Road. Carrie smiled as Justin dug into his briefcase.
“Time for a sweep?” she asked.
“You got it.”
Justin produced a ‘sweeper,’ a palm-sized device that looked like a smartphone but which detected if any recording devices had been installed in the vehicle. It was a rental, so the chances of the Chevy being bugged were minimal, but they could never be careless. The sweep of the Chevy’s interior revealed no surveillance devices. Justin stepped outside and meticulously searched the car’s exterior for unusual signals. He got a reading about a GPS tracker installed to record the vehicle’s route and location. With a few clicks on his sweeper, Justin deactivated the tracker. No one at Hertz would learn about their destination.
“We’re all good?” Carrie asked when Justin returned.
“Yes, now we are. I disabled a standard civilian GPS tracker.”
Carrie nodded. Justin started the car, and they drove down the Dulles Access Road, then turned onto Virginia State Route 267. Justin paid the
He turned a few more pages, then stood up, glanced to the right and scanned the faces in the ever-changing crowd. He paced along the hall and back. He stuffed the magazine in his suitcase, rolled it behind him, and returned to Starbucks. The digital clock on the wall told him Carrie was going to show up at any minute. He ordered another espresso for him and a grande caffè mocha without whipped cream and a blueberry muffin for her.
Just as he was picking them up, he heard Carrie’s voice behind him, “Hey, wanted man.”
“Hi, Carrie.” He turned around and fell into her arms.
“You look good,” he said when they broke their embrace.
“No, I don’t. Just came back from a ten-hour flight, after another flight for three hours from Moscow to Frankfurt and another one from Grozny to Moscow. Not to mention the layovers. My hair’s a mess and I feel so dirty.”
Carrie had a small figure, a bit shorter than Justin, and he stood at five feet ten inches. He looked at her auburn hair flowing down her shoulders, then at her gray-blue eyes. “I think your hair is great.”
Carrie shrugged. “Thanks.”
“How was your trip?” Justin asked.
“Uneventful, but for a sick turbulence halfway through, over the ocean. A couple of passengers threw up. It was gross.”
She took her caffè mocha and smiled. Justin nodded.
“Hmmm, I really needed this, thank you,” she said after taking a sip of the hot liquid. Then she took a bite of the muffin. “How was your flight?”
“OK, I guess. We had some turbulence too, but not much.”
“Were you able to get some sleep?”
“Maybe an hour or so.”
He rolled his suitcase. Carrie picked up hers, and they left the coffee shop.
“I’ve arranged for a rental,” Justin said. “Our colleagues wanted to send someone to pick us up, but I declined their offer so we can talk before this meeting.”
“I’ve got to run to the washroom.”
Five minutes later, Carrie looked refreshed. She had tied her hair in a semi-ponytail. Her face was glowing. She had applied some makeup, and there were no signs of sleep or fatigue in her eyes.
They took the AeroTrain to the main terminal, then walked to the Hertz rental office. Justin refused the clerk’s first offer—a Lincoln Town Car on which he could have gotten a great deal—opting instead for his own pick, a blue Chevy Aveo. Justin sat behind the steering wheel, Carrie in the front passenger seat. They drove out of the lot, then Justin parked before they merged with the traffic on Dulles Access Road. Carrie smiled as Justin dug into his briefcase.
“Time for a sweep?” she asked.
“You got it.”
Justin produced a ‘sweeper,’ a palm-sized device that looked like a smartphone but which detected if any recording devices had been installed in the vehicle. It was a rental, so the chances of the Chevy being bugged were minimal, but they could never be careless. The sweep of the Chevy’s interior revealed no surveillance devices. Justin stepped outside and meticulously searched the car’s exterior for unusual signals. He got a reading about a GPS tracker installed to record the vehicle’s route and location. With a few clicks on his sweeper, Justin deactivated the tracker. No one at Hertz would learn about their destination.
“We’re all good?” Carrie asked when Justin returned.
“Yes, now we are. I disabled a standard civilian GPS tracker.”
Carrie nodded. Justin started the car, and they drove down the Dulles Access Road, then turned onto Virginia State Route 267. Justin paid the
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