Chapter 3: I'd Like to Cancel Your Flight

A little before six the next morning, the door to Room 504 slowly opened, and Tracy Turner stepped out.  She glanced behind her, closed the door softly, and strode calmly over to the balcony railing.  There, she looked out over the hotel.

From her vantage point on the top floor, she could see nearly everybody down below.  Not that there were many people this hour in the morning.  A few businessmen, suited and obviously about to go to work, sat about at one of the breakfast tables, waiting for the food to be served.  A bleary-eyed passenger, stale off a late-night flight (fresh obviously wasn’t the correct word) was in the process of explaining his delays to the clerk.  And standing next to the fountain, watching the water flow through the indoor pond, was a figure that…that looked vaguely familiar to Tracy.

Slipping her left hand in her pocket, Tracy yanked out a small pair of binoculars.  She held them up and examined the figure.  They zeroed in on a heavily-bearded face, with sharply-defined cheekbones and a slightly crooked nose that looked like it might have been broken in a fight.  The eyes were…the eyes were…

They were brown, but Tracy knew that wasn’t their natural color.  Contacts.  The eyes were really blue, and the man that stood down there was none other than…

Tracy pushed a button on the side of the binoculars.  They took the man’s picture and sent it off somewhere to be examined.  Meanwhile, Tracy stepped slowly backwards, shoved her key into door 504, and slipped inside.  She turned the deadbolt before taking her hand off the knob.

From the bedroom, she heard a yawn.  She rushed in just in time to see Sarah sit up.

“Ahhh, good morning, Tracy!  Sleep well?”

“Not as well as you,” Tracy smirked.  “Let me guess…this is the earliest you’ve gotten up in quite some time, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”  Sarah yawned.  “Piccolo camp started at eight every morning—”

“And you were there right at 8:30, I know you!”  Tracy laughed.  “What you need is breakfast in bed…say, now there’s an idea!  Why don’t we get room service?”

“Room service?” Sarah thought.  “Don’t they have free breakfast downstairs?”

“Sure, they do, but we already got a free night anyway.  We can afford to splurge.  It’d be fun!  See, look!” Tracy picked up the room brochure and flipped through it to the menu.  “Doesn’t all this stuff look good?”

Sarah had to admit the selections on the menu did look good.  Reluctantly, she nodded.  Tracy went ahead and put in the call.

“Might as well eat well,” she said, as she dialed.  “We have a long day ahead of us.  Oh, room service?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah did not actually eat in bed—she was up and dressed by the time the food arrived.  The girls ate together, but Sarah saw little of her friend as she made sure she was all packed.  Tracy had packed her stuff up early, and she went on a little walk around the hotel after eating.

When she came back, she had that big grin on her face that meant she had another idea.  “Good news!” she said.  “I’ve got us a ride to the airport!”

Zipping up her suitcase, Sarah stared at her friend in confusion.  “Aren’t we taking the shuttle?”

“Shuttle?  Why take the shuttle when you can take something more fun?”  Tracy darted into the bedroom and hopped up on the bed.  Grinning from ear to ear, she explained what she’d done.  Sarah listened intently, and her jaw dropped as Tracy laid out the plan.

“We’re going to the airport…in a Coca-Cola truck?”

“Sure!  Isn’t it great?” Tracy laughed.  “We didn’t get stuck with Pepsi!”

Sarah rolled her eyes.  “Tracy, this is fun and all, but I think you’re going a little overboard—”

“Do you really?  Come on, Sarah, admit it!”  Tracy rolled over and put her head in her hands, smiling at her friend.  “You’ve always wanted to ride somewhere in one of those, haven’t you?”

“Well, it might be fun—”

“It’d be loads of fun!”

“But did you really get the driver to say yes?”

“Oh, sure, he was a great sport about it!  He’s done this before, you know.  Phillies rookies use him to get around if they’ve made a bad play the night before.”

“Well, if he says it’s alright, I suppose it’s alright—”

“Then it’s settled!”  Tracy hopped off the bed, grabbed her suitcase, and yanked the zipper tightly shut.  “The maid will be here to pick us up in a minute, and then we’ll—”

“Maid?” Sarah was struggling to keep track of all these developments.  “What’s this about a maid?”

“Well, I thought it might be fun to sneak downstairs.  You know, like someone’s following us!  The maid already agreed to this, too.  In five minutes, she’ll be by with a couple of laundry carts—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a minute!  You don’t mean that we’re going to ride downstairs in a couple of laundry carts?”

Tracy jumped back on the bed.  “Aaaannd, you guessed it!” she said.  “Just as perceptive as ever, my friend!”

“Laundry carts?” said Sarah.  “Laundry carts?  Supposing I don’t go?”

Tracy rolled over again and smiled back at Sarah.  “Oh, you will, my friend.  I know you!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Actually, Sarah had to admit, the laundry cart idea was the icing on the cake for this plan.  The maid arrived right on schedule, Sarah and Tracy hopped on their carts, and the maid threw the sheets over them.  Less than five minutes later, they were slipping through a delivery door into the back of a Coca-Cola truck.  The driver grinned before shutting the door.  “You sure they weren’t booing you at Citizens Bank Park last night?”

“Citizens Bank Park?” Sarah wondered.

“That’s the Phillies’ stadium, my friend,” Tracy explained.

The truck navigated its way through the busy streets, pulling up to the terminal a minute quicker than the shuttle had the other day.  Going around to the side, the driver pulled up the drawer and helped the girls out.  “Have a nice trip!” he said.

“Thanks a million!” Tracy replied, handing him a twenty.  “Here’s a little something for all your trouble.”

The man whistled.  “Next time you’re in Philadelphia, you just call Pete LaBrea when you need a ride!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember!”  Tracy grabbed her suitcase and started for the door.  “Come on, Sarah.  The sooner we get through security, the better.  You never know how long those lines are going to be…”

But the lines weren’t long, and soon, Sarah and Tracy were walking into the same terminal they’d been in the other day.  “Now, to check the departure times,” Sarah said.  “Oh, I hope my flight’s on time today.  I’m starting to miss my family…”

She noticed Tracy wasn’t listening.  Her friend’s cellphone was ringing; Tracy held up a hand.  “Hello, dearest Papa?” she said.

Whatever she heard on the other end couldn’t have been the best news.  A frown crossed her face as she listened.  “Not again!” she said.  “You’re sure it’s the same flight?”

Uh-oh, Sarah thought to herself.  I hope Tracy’s flight wasn’t cancelled for the second day in a row.

“Well, have they shown up yet?” said Tracy.  “Maybe I could just…okay…okay…yeah, sure, but…don’t worry, we’ll make that work.  Blow mom a bunch of kisses for me if she’s not working.  And I’ll see you soon!  Goodbye!”

Hanging up, she smiled, but it was a smile of masked frustration this time.

“You’ll never guess whose flight just got cancelled for the second day in a row!”

“Not mine, I hope!”

Tracy laughed.  “Mine, of course.  Mechanical failure again, and United doesn’t have another plane around…you’d better check on yours and see if it’s running!”

“You bet I will!” Sarah strode hurriedly towards the departure board.  “DL 557…DL 557…tell me it’s running!”

Tracy followed behind, only vaguely conscious of the crowd around her.  She’d hit an app on her phone and punched in two passwords.  Instantly, a flight list popped up on her phone.

“There’s the board!” said Sarah.  “Now where’s the flight?”

“It might be in the third column,” Tracy muttered to herself.  “Ah, yes, there it is!”

Tracy’s phone had all the flights listed too, along with their status.  Only, the status was a link instead of a set word or phrase.  Tapping her finger on DL 557, Tracy got a pop-up that showed several choices.  ON TIME was selected, but there was a delay option (complete with a clock) in the middle and a cancellation option on the right.

“Oh, goodie!” Sarah stared at the board.  “DL 557—right on time!”

Tracy swiped right.  “Is it really?” she murmured.

“Looks like I’m getting back to Minnesota—WHAT???!!!  Cancelled?  Cancelled?  Cancelled???!!!”

Tracy closed the app and put her phone away.  “What’s this about cancelled?”

“My flight!  They just cancelled my flight!  For the second day in a row!”

“You’re kidding!”  Tracy stared at the board.  “Didn’t it just say ON TIME?”

“I thought it did.  Then the screen changed, and now—this is ridiculous!”

“You got that right,” grinned Tracy.  “Looks like we’re in the same predicament.  My plane’s not flying either.  Dad said he’d see if he could get me on another flight, but if he can’t…I might be a permanent resident here before this is all said and—”

Her phone rang, and she answered instantly.  “It’s him, now!” she said.  “Hello, dearest Papa?”

As crowds of people hurried through the airport, in search of their destination, Sarah watched her friend intently.  Tracy seemed intently focused on something—she scanned the crowd carefully.

“No, I didn’t bring an umbrella,” she remarked.  “I think there’s a store nearby that sells them.”

She listened some more, and then, a gleam came into her eyes.

“I can—you mean, really?  Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!  This’ll be fun!  Hold on a second!” She put her hand to the phone and turned to Sarah.  “Guess what?”

“What?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, wait a minute.  I’ve got an idea.  Dearest papa?” she said, going back to the phone.  “You remember Sarah, don’t you?  My best friend from back when we lived in Minnesota?  Well, she’s stuck at the airport too, and her flight just got cancelled.  She’s trying to get back to Minnesota, and Chicago’s on the way.  Do you suppose—what?  She can?  Oh, boy!  This’ll be great!  Thanks so much, dad—you’re the best ever!

“Alright, it’s official!” she said, hanging up.  “Great news, Sarah!  My dad owns a couple private planes, and one of them is in Philadelphia!  He’s flying here for a multi-day business trip, and he’ll need it to travel around the East Coast.  However, he’s not going in the next couple days, so he said I could just take it back to Chicago.  And better yet, he said you could come along, and the pilot can take you back home to Minneapolis.”

“Really?” Sarah was shocked.  “No fooling?”

“Not at all!” said Tracy.  “Cymbals and catfish; it’s a good thing I ran into you here, and not Miami or something.  If Dad didn’t have the plane here, we’d never be able to do it.  You’re coming, of course, right?”

“Sure!” said Sarah.  “With all these cancellations, I might as well.  Who’s flying?”

“Oh, my dad hires a pilot for it.  He’s calling him right now.  Everything will be taken care of when we get to the airport.”

“I see,” said Sarah.  “When do we leave?”

“Right now!” said Tracy.  “Come on!”

            And for the second time in as many days, the girls left Philadelphia International without getting on a plane.

Chapter 2: A Bomb in the Room

The Embassy Suites shuttle was just returning from the hotel when the girls wandered outside the airport terminal.  They stood under the awning and waited for the van to pull up to the curb.  Sarah kept a tight grip on her carry-on.

“Good thing I had some clothes in here!” she said.  “I guess I won’t see my other bag until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Tracy laughed.  “Sarah, you won’t see that bag for another week!  They’re bad enough with them when they don’t have delays.  Since there is one, it’ll probably wind up in Hong Kong!”

“At least I’ve got my piccolo,” Sarah patted her bag.  “O-L-O-C-C-I-P spelled backwards.”

This time, it was Tracy’s turn to look surprised.  “How on earth did you say it that fast?” she asked.

Sarah grinned.  “My dad.  He spells it that way all the time.  He always tells us he can’t play it, can’t read music, but he can at least spell it backwards.”

“That is impressive.  Hmm, I wonder if he can spell harpsichord backwards.  D-R-O-H-C-I-S-P-R-A-H.”

Sarah looked at her friend.  “Now how did you do that?”

Tracy grinned.  “The hand is quicker than the eye.”

“Your hand doesn’t have anything to do with that!”

Tracy just smiled.  “A good magician never reveals her secrets.”

The ride to the hotel was not long—it really was just five minutes away.  In fact, pulling up in the parking lot, the girls could still see the airport.  They got out, thanked the chauffeur, then headed inside, where Tracy made sure she was first in line.

“Looks like we beat the crowd,” she said triumphantly.  “No line!”

“Yes, may I help you?”  The clerk at the desk wore a black dress shirt, with pants to match.  His straight, black hair was neatly slicked to one side—light gleamed off of oil on it.  Whether it was some sort of hair tonic, or whether his hair was just oily, no one could tell.

“Hello, there!” Tracy strode confidently up to the desk.  “I’m from the airport—United should have made a reservation for me.  The name is Turner. Tracy Turner.”

“Tracy, don’t say it like that.  They’ll think you’re a spy.”

Tracy laughed.  “Me?  At my age?  Cymbals and catfish, what is this world coming to?”

Sarah rolled her eyes.  “Tracy, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“You don’t think so?  I’m smarter, faster, and five times as dangerous as when I met you last!  Oh, Sarah…you’re a trusting soul!”

Apparently, United had called—the clerk had Tracy checked in in just one minute.  Sarah took longer—three minutes in fact, but the clerk was soon handing her the room keys.  “You’re in 211.  Enjoy your stay, Miss Emery!”

“Thanks, I’m sure I will.”  Walking away from the desk, Sarah examined the thing the clerk had just given her.  “Hey, there’s two keys here!”

“Sure!” grinned Tracy.  “That’s so if you lock one in your room, you can still get back in!”

“Considering they’re in the same envelope, I don’t think that’ll help.”

“Who knows.  I’ve got two keys, too.”  The elevator arrived, and the girls got in.  Tracy punched the button for five and watched as Sarah pushed the button for two.  Then, Tracy’s face lit up.

“Say, I’ve got a great idea!  Why don’t you spend the night in my room?”

“Your room?”

“Sure, we can have a sleepover!  It’ll be just like old times—you know, back when I used to come over to your house in Minnesota?  Only this time, I’ll host you!”

Sarah thought about it.  “It sure would be boring, in a room by myself—that sounds like fun!  You’re sure you don’t mind?”

Tracy laughed, a long laugh that spanned the ding of the elevator arriving at floor 2 and the doors opening.  “Not the least bit, Sarah.  It’ll be fun!”

“Alright,” said Sarah.  She pushed the door closed button.  “I guess I won’t need my room, then.  Maybe I should go talk to the clerk—”

“No, keep it,” said Tracy.  “You’re not paying for it after all.”

“That’s right,” said Sarah.  “You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?”

Tracy beamed.  “You don’t know the half of it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unsurprisingly, the friends stayed up way later than usual, watching movies and chatting about old times.  It was shortly after midnight when Sarah finally dropped off to sleep, but Sarah was a sound sleeper.  A very sound sleeper.  Such a sound sleeper, she didn’t notice the BOOM!!! at 2:31 in the morning.

Everyone else did.  At least, that’s how it seemed.  The sounds of nervous chatter came from the hall, and sirens joined the traffic noises of Philadelphia.  They grew louder and louder, until finally, two fire engines, an ambulance, and two police cars pulled into the hotel parking lot.  The engines drove straight around to a window which had billowing black smoke pouring out of it.

Water from the hoses went pouring in, though, and the fire was soon out.  Another fire engine showed up, followed by two more police cars.  They stayed for two hours, talking with the hotel manager and poking around the smoldering ruins.  Explosions don’t just happen, and the police tried their hardest to figure out what had caused it.

      But by the time the sun stretched its golden rays over the City of Brotherly Love, the Philadelphia Police still didn’t know who’d planted the bomb in Room 211.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Chapter 1: An Unexpected Reunion

It was a cold, rainy day at the Philadelphia International Airport when a battered gray taxi pulled up alongside the terminal.  Wipers going full blast, the driver scanned the curb carefully, then sped towards a car on which the driver’s door had just closed.  Pulling up, the cabbie waited for the car to pull out.

Instead, the driver’s door opened again.  A man got out and started motioning for someone to come back to the car.

“Never mind,” said the passenger.  “This is close enough.”

“You sure, miss?”

Twelve-year-old Sarah Emery opened her door and nodded.  “I’ll be fine, thanks.  How much is the fee?”

She fumbled about in her purse until she came up with the correct amount, then paid the cabbie.  “Keep the change.  Have a wonderful day!”

Going around to the trunk, she pulled out a big, green suitcase and a smaller, blue bag which she always travelled with.  An experienced traveler, she knew how to carry both of them for the brief walk from the car to the check-in counter.  Waving back at the taxi, she navigated her way through two parked cars and up over the curb.  Glancing at the signs on the doors, she was pleased to see the cabbie had dropped her off right by the Delta entrance.  She wandered inside, tagged her bags, then took her place in line.

“Next!” said the clerk, when it was finally her turn.  “How are you today?”

“Pretty well, thank you,” said Sarah, depositing the bag she wanted checked on the scale.  “Just hoping the rain doesn’t cause any trouble with the flight.”

“Yes, I’ve been watching it,” said the clerk, who looked to be in his early twenties.  “If it stays the way it is now, the planes should be able to take off.  You’re only in trouble if it gets worse.  May I see an ID?”

“Certainly,” said Sarah, rummaging around in her purse.  “The bag should be paid for, too.  Here you are.”

“Thanks!”  The clerk typed her name into the computer, then checked to make sure all her information was correct.  “Going home?” he chatted as she waited.

“Back to Minnesota!” Sarah declared.  “It’s been two weeks since I left.”

“Wow, that’s far away.”  The clerk handed her ID back.  “I’ll bet it’s cold there.”

“It is in the winter,” Sarah replied.  “In the summer, it’s warmer.”

“Ah, I see.  Well, you’re all set!  Enjoy your trip!”

“Thanks!”

Sarah grabbed her carry-on and made her way through the terminal over to the security line.  It was long, today, as there were a lot of people travelling.  She took her position and waited, moving slowly forward as the line permitted.  She hadn’t been waiting long when, suddenly, she heard two men talking behind her.

“You hear about Howard?” one of them said.

“No, what about him?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone?  From where?”

“Braves’ Triple-A team.  They released him.”

“I didn’t realize he was even still playing!”

It was a baseball conversation, and Sarah listened intently until it was her turn in line.  She smiled at the TSA agent and handed him her boarding pass and ID.

“Okay,” he said, handing it back.  “Hope you get through alright!”

“Thanks!”  Sarah moved forward and went through the usual security procedures—take off your shoes, place all metals in a container, and shove the carry-on through security.  It was a bother, but it all went off without a hitch.  In less than five minutes, she was through, headed into the main part of the waiting area.  Instantly, her eyes scanned the walls, searching for a board with the departure listings.

“D13,” she read, next to her flight.  “Oh, it’s right over there!”

She looked around for a seat, but all the ones around D13 were crowded.  Flights were leaving from the nearby gates, and their crowds spilled over.  Sarah glanced around a bit, then contented herself with a seat across the hallway.  “I’ll check and see if one comes open in a few minutes.”

Waiting around at airports was always Sarah’s least favorite part of travelling.  It wasn’t so bad when she had someone to wait with—then she could chat awhile, and she wouldn’t get bored.  But with no one around, the spare time crept by like an eternity—a boring, actionless eternity.  It was especially bad when waiting around for the return trip, as Sarah didn’t have anything exciting to look forward to.  Oh well, she wasn’t complaining.  She didn’t have anyone to complain to.

The minutes ticked past.  A couple seats came open, but these were filled before Sarah could even get up.  The plane at D11 was late—from what Sarah could hear, it sounded like there had been a mechanical failure.  An attendant wheeled a cart full of snacks out and announced to those waiting in line that they could treat themselves, in return for their patience.

Yawning, Sarah leaned back in her chair.  She wished she’d brought a book along, or a movie, or something—but no.  No, all she had were some tourist brochures she’d picked up at her hotel.  “The Museum of We the People”—“Philadelphia Museum of Art”—“Dutch Wonderland”—“ Assassins Hall of Fame”—etc.

She started reading through them to while the time away.  Forty-six minutes elapsed before she’d examined every single one of the brochures.  She glanced up and saw that the rain had intensified.  Outside, a layer of fog was moving in, and the sky was gray as could be.  Wind blew sheets of falling water over the tarmac outside.

Glancing at her watch, Sarah saw there were still forty-five minutes to go before her next flight.  Then, she noticed that the terminal seemed to be emptying.  That plane at D11 still hadn’t left yet, but many of the people were headed towards the airport exit without getting on.

“Looks like that one’s not going to go,” Sarah muttered to herself.  “Hope mine’s alright.  I’d better check.”

She got up from her seat and made her way over to the departure board again.  There, she paused and scanned the list of flights until she found hers.  It still read “On Time,” just as it had before.

“Well, that’s good,” said Sarah.  She noticed at the same time, though, that several flights to destinations west of Philadelphia had been cancelled already.  Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Chicago—those flights weren’t going out.  However, those were all south of Sarah’s beloved Minneapolis. If the bad storms keep away, hopefully I’ll still be able to make the trip—

“SARAH!!!”

Sarah jumped.  That voice was familiar—very familiar, even though it had been almost two years since she’d last heard it in person.  But to hear it here—here, in Philadelphia of all places, why—that wasn’t possible, was it?  Sarah whirled around in surprise to get a look at the speaker—

And her eyes widened in surprise as she saw it was exactly who she thought it was.

“Tracy!  Tracy Turner!” she gasped.

A short, blond-haired girl who looked about eight but was really Sarah’s age came running across the airport toward her friend.  “Oh, it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, stopping just short of her friend (Tracy wasn’t a hugger).  “What in the world are you doing in Philadelphia?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Sarah said in surprise.  She and Tracy had been best friends back in Minnesota—still were, only Tracy wasn’t around much anymore.  She’d moved to Chicago two years ago and still lived there, as far as Sarah knew.  Tracy was one of the last people Sarah’d expected to meet in Philadelphia, but she didn’t mind the surprise.  In fact, she was glad of it.

“I asked you first,” grinned Tracy.  Two years hadn’t worn anything off that sparkly personality, that cheeky grin, that exuberant spring in Tracy’s step.  She was certainly the more outgoing of the two girls—not that Sarah was shy, but few were as outgoing as Tracy.

“I was here for piccolo camp,” Sarah replied.  “Two weeks, one hundred piccolo players—”

“One hundred?” gasped Tracy.  “Your ears must be bleeding!”

“No, they were good players.  At least,” Sarah made a face, “most of them were.  The ones that weren’t got their mistakes ironed out fairly shortly.  We played in a lot of small ensembles, as well as a large group that had all of us—”

“And you actually had people attending the concert?  Jumping Joe Mauer! they must be brave!”

Ah, yes, that was one of Tracy’s little eccentricities.  Sarah had noticed it from the first time she’d met her friend.  Tracy had all sorts of funny things she’d say when she got excited.  Never, “Rats!”, or “Phooey!”, or “Rubbish!” for her.  She had her own private expressions which she used whenever she was stirred up about something (which was frequently and often).  There were several, but three of the most common were:

·        “Jumping Joe Mauer!”  (Tracy was a huge Minnesota Twins fan—Mauer had been one of their best players for several years.  He first rose to prominence as a catcher, so where the “Jumping” part came from was unclear…though he did play basketball in high school.)

·        “Sounds phonier than a golden gopher!”  (The University of Minnesota called its athletic teams the Golden Gophers.  Presumably there was a reason behind the name, but it certainly wasn’t well-suited for striking fear into the hearts of opposing teams.)

·        “Cymbals and catfish!”  (Okay, that had absolutely no meaning whatsoever, as far as anyone could tell.  However, if you were friends with Tracy Turner, you’d hear it at some point!)

“No, they enjoyed it,” said Sarah.  “We had the piccolo players from the Philadelphia Orchestra and the Dallas Symphony working with us too.  The one from Dallas was really nice—I got to sit with her at lunch on Thursday.  She was telling me about all the different music she’s played—it was really special!  We had our concert Saturday, and most of the players left Sunday, but I stuck around a couple extra days.  My dad said I should see Independence Hall before I left—”

“What would be the point of visiting Philadelphia if you didn’t?” said Tracy.  “I’m glad you got to see it—and I’m glad you got to have such a great time here.  Imagine, running into you here, at this airport!  What a coincidence!”

“So what are you here for?” Sarah asked.

“Codebreaking camp.”  Noticing Sarah’s surprised look, Tracy laughed.  “Just kidding, silly.  I have an uncle that lives here, so I was visiting him for a few days.  I was supposed to fly back today, but my flight just got cancelled, so I was just leaving when I saw you.  Boy, am I glad I did!  I hope you’ll be here a while!”

“Not really,” said Sarah.  “My plane leaves in forty-five minutes—”

Suddenly, everyone around Sarah started moaning.  Startled, Sarah checked the board, instantly discovering the explanation.  Now, all the flights read cancelled.  As she saw hers was among them, an announcement went over the loudspeaker that all flights had been cancelled.

“Oh, phooey,” said Sarah.  “Now what am I going to do?”

“Cymbals and catfish!” exclaimed Tracy.  “Guess this means they’ll have to put you up in a hotel.  My airline did that for me.  Look at it as an adventure!  Come on; let’s get in line before it fills up!”

The girls headed over, but as it turned out, six other people were already in front of them, waiting for information from Delta about their rescheduled flights.  That may not seem like many, but in an airport line, six people can take thirty minutes to get their business straightened out.  Sarah would have been bored out of her wits if this had happened a few minutes ago, but now that Tracy was around, she didn’t mind.  The girls had fun catching up, comparing stories about what had happened the past couple years and chatting over old times.  By the time it was Sarah’s turn in line, she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Weather’s supposed to be bad the rest of the day,” said the woman at the Delta kiosk.  “We’ve rescheduled you for 9:15 tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow?” said Sarah.  “What’ll I do tonight?”

“We’ve booked a room for you,” the woman replied.  “It’s at the Embassy Suites, just five minutes from here.  There’s a shuttle that runs there.  When you check in, it’ll be under your name.”

“Embassy Suites?!” exclaimed Tracy.  “That’s where I’m staying!”

“It is?”

“Yes!  Isn’t this great?  We can ride over together!  Oh, I’m so excited!”

Sarah laughed.  “Now that I’ve run into someone I know, this is great!  Let’s head over now!”

“Sounds good to me!” said Tracy.  As the girls started for the exit, she pulled out her cellphone.  “I’ve just got to call my dad and let him know about the change of plans.”

“Sure, go ahead.”  Sarah stared over at the window.  The weather was getting worse by the second, but her spirits were rising.  She was so glad to have met a friend at the airport—especially her best one.

“Hello, dearest Papa?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a secret control room, hidden inside some super secure government building in the D.C. area, a short man with a small black beard picked up the phone.  Lights flashed off his face, which suddenly got an excited look.  He put his hand over the mouthpiece, whirled around in his swivel chair, and called to someone across the room, “It’s her!”  Taking away his hand, he spoke back into the mouthpiece.  “Go ahead, 3145-008!”

“My flight’s been rescheduled for tomorrow,” Tracy said, “but they’re putting me up at a hotel for the evening.  I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.  Oh, and you won’t believe who I ran into at the airport!  Sarah!  She was in town for something, and her flight was rescheduled too!  Isn’t that nice?”

“Got it, 3145-008.  Keep going.”

“Better yet, she’s coming to my hotel!  We’ll spend the night, head back to the airport tomorrow morning, and be on our way home before the afternoon if all goes well!  Looking forward to seeing you!”

“Very good, 3145-008.  Any trouble so far?”

“Aw, I love you too, Dad.  Blow mom a kiss for me!  Talk to you later, bye.”

As the man hung up the phone, his friend across the room stood up.  “Well, what did she say?”

“She found Sarah Emery alright, 4231.  The flight’s delayed, and they’re going to the same hotel.  So far, no one’s giving them any trouble.”

“Thank God!”  4231 ran his fingers through his silver-streaked black hair.  He was tall, but this was difficult to tell because he was also broad-shouldered.   Lines of worry crossed his face, making it appear more wrinkled than it actually was.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” the first man asked.  “I mean, with these recent developments, we can’t afford to take chances—”

“We’re not taking any chances!” 4231 was adamant.  “3145-008’s our best agent, and she’s already got a valuable connection.  If she can’t pull this assignment off, nobody can.”  He sighed.  “I just hope it’s not too big for her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hanging up, Tracy turned and smiled at her friend.  “Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked.  “Let’s go!”

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DID YOU ENJOY TERROR AT GLASGOW STATION?

Now, you can own it, in this beautiful new volume available from Amazon.com!  Have Marilyn’s thrilling quest to save two trains from gangsters on your shelf for whenever you want to read it.  Relive the suspense as Burt Kane and the Windy City Devils seek to wreak havoc in the middle of a Montana snowstorm in Terror at Glasgow Station!

Available at https://www.amazon.com/Terror-Glasgow-Station-Matthew-Zisi/dp/197436349X/ref=sr_1_1_twi_pap_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1502716621&sr=1-1&keywords=Terror+at+Glasgow+Station

Note: Due to travel, Chapter 2 of The Best Kind of a Friend Is a Secret Agent will appear next Tuesday, instead of Monday.  Thanks for reading!