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the photo. But, his eyes, they look just like the eyes that stared at me when I got off the plane Tuesday evening. He was in the airport with another man.”

Without wasting a moment, he reached into his file folder and removed two more photos. “These were taken inside of the Kahului Airport Tuesday at 4:25pm. These two men were checking in for the flight to Dallas. They used identification showing them to be Duane Scruggs of Dallas and Paul Davis of Plano, Texas. Duane Scruggs had rented a black Chevy Tahoe from National Rent-A-Car, just like the one we recovered down in Hana. Pretty sloppy work on their part. They should have at least used separate rental companies.”

“Those are the faces that I saw lurking around our arrival gate. They must have been confirming for Conrad that I had arrived as instructed. Also, a waitress at Rock and Brews, Jasmine, told me last night two men wearing Texas ballcaps, just like those, came in for a late lunch Tuesday.”

“I agree. We are building a large, circumstantial case against them, but we need the Wilhites to provide a positive ID on these two. A raid on the address on the Duane Scruggs ID came up empty. Obviously, a false drivers license.”

Special Agent Presley fell silent for a moment, then continued, “There has been a flurry of activity taking place in Washington D.C. and New York City. Needless to say, the UN wasn’t happy to hear about a breach in the security of the transport plans. They are considering asking Wilhite Logistical Consulting for a full refund of the five-million-dollar fee they paid. Personally, I think that’s pretty petty on their part, especially considering what that couple has been through the last sixty hours, or so.”

“Wow, I agree with you. But, knowing Chad, he would have probably volunteered to return the fee, if he was in the proper frame of mind.”

Presley bobbed his head as if acknowledging as much. He sighed, and then reached, once again, into his file folder. He withdrew a copy of an email and laid it in front of me. “The Assistant Director and the Director have been working through channels at the UN and the White House. The US Ambassador to the UN, has been in meetings with the Secretary General seeking some sort of compromise regarding the fee. The White House has instructed the Joint Chief to arrange with the Secretary of the Air Force to make a C-130 cargo plane available at Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam on Oahu tomorrow. As you may have deduced, the plan is; to divert the PacAsian Star into the Port of Honolulu, offload the seven cargo containers and load them onto trucks, transport them to Hickam and get ‘em loaded onto the C-130. They will fly the containers to Bangkok, Thailand and then get their asses back to the States.”

“That’s quite a compromise, on the part of the United States Government! What’s the catch?”

“The United Nations keeps their mouths shut and gives us time to flush Conrad and his thugs out. Oh, and they leave Wilhite Logistical Consulting alone. He keeps his payment.”

“Do you think that the UN will accept those terms and that generous offer?”

“If they’re smart, they will. Obviously, the United States doesn’t want egg on its face because of this scheme of Conrad’s, so it’s a win for everyone.”

“When will we know if the new plan is a go?”

Presley looked at his watch and did some quick mental math coming up with an answer. “It’s 9:27am here, so it’s 2:27pm in D.C. That means we will know within thirty-three minutes, if they are going to meet the 3:00pm deadline the President set.”

Now it was time to hurry up and wait.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

We didn’t have to wait for very long. Just before 10:00am, local time, Special Agent Presley received an email from his supervisor in Honolulu. The United Nations and the United States government had reached a mutually acceptable agreement to reroute the PacAsian Star to the Port of Honolulu and transport the COVID vaccine to Thailand via a United States Air Force C-130 transport. There was one alteration to the original plan. The plane would land at Korat Royal Air Force base in northeast Thailand. The base was about two hundred and fifty miles north of Bangkok. The C-130 would remain sequestered in a hangar until Sunday, March 7, when its cargo would be off loaded and the plane would return to the United States.

The belief was, that if there was a hijacking plan, either at sea or at the Port of Laem Chabang, law enforcement officials should be able to piece it together and apprehend the criminals by that date.

The Director had pushed hard for that stipulation, based upon the text trail in the burner phone that had been recovered from Archibald Patterson, the now deceased kidnapper, referred to as Jones. It appeared that a reunion of the three men would take place with Conrad. They weren’t sure when it would take place and were hoping for a new message so that they could squeeze that information from Conrad.

Obviously pleased with the progress being made, Presley smiled and said, “Let’s go visit our patients and see how they are this morning!”

“I’m down with that.” I stood and smiled at the FBI agent. “I have to thank you again for all you are doing on this case.”

“It’s a long way from over, but we are making progress. Let’s go.”

We exited the conference room and walked out of the office space. Once we reached the fresh air outside, I paused and turned to Presley, “Should I ride with you, or am I free to drive my SUV?”

“Either way, Mr. Cooper. You are not under arrest and I don’t foresee you being arrested. If that were going to happen, it would have already happened.”

Smiling, I replied, “Then, if you don’t mind, I’ll drive myself in case I need to drive the Wilhites back to the

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