FanStory.com - Spirited Justice Chap 36by Begin Again

"Come on, Bryce. Let's get William and get out of this place before it's too late." Harry trembled uncontrollably, unable to comprehend what had been happening. His mind said it was unreal, but he knew what he'd seen.

"Can I find a parking place first?" Bryce had taken over the driving since Danni's shenanigans had rattled Henry so much. He was out of the car when it stopped, hurrying toward the hotel entrance.

As Bryce followed, he repeatedly glanced over his shoulder, expecting someone else to be following him. Henry, looking pale and struggling to stay upright, held the door for Bryce, and they both hurried to the elevator.

Bryce growled, "Let's get to the room, grab our stuff, and go. I'm not listening to William and his big ideas anymore."

Henry shot a sideways glance at his co-conspirator. "I think it was your idea to give it one more shot."

"Whatever!" Bryce snarled. He ripped the keycard from Henry's hand. "I'm leaving! Whether you and William are going or not, that's your decision."

As the door opened, both men knew things weren't right. The room was empty — no suitcases, no remnants of unmade beds, and no William. Alarms rang in Bryce's head as he stormed into the bathroom, then returned and opened the closet door. It didn't take long to confirm the obvious — William had already jumped ship.

"What the hell?" Bryce muttered a string of curses under his breath, kicking the side of the bed in frustration. Henry hovered near the door, ready to rush out of the room.

"William left — he wouldn't," Henry stammered. "We're his friends."

"Well, Henry, I guess he thought his skin was worth more than ours because he's gone. Everything's gone."

"Everything? Our passports, tickets — how do we get home?"

Before Bryce could answer, someone knocked on the door. Their heads snapped toward the sound, but neither moved.

"Open up!" came the gruff voice from the other side. "Federal Agents."

Henry looked like he was about to pass out. His hands trembled as he reached for the door handle. Bryce shoved him aside, hissing, "Don't you dare." He scanned the room, looking for a way out.

The two men glared at each other, and the voice on the other side of the door responded, "My name's Garth Woodman, FBI Special Investigator. We know you're in there. Open up."

Henry's heart pounded against his chest, knowing there was no escape. But Bryce had other ideas. He backed away from the door and yelled, "Diplomatic immunity! You can't touch us."

Garth's eyes met Tango's, and he shook his head, smirking as he replied, "That's not how it works, boys. Diplomatic immunity doesn't cover attempted murder, to name a few of your crimes, especially when you aren't a serving diplomat with the consulate. In other words, you are on your own. Now open the door."

Silence followed as the two men considered their next move. Henry's eyes were wide with fear. "What do we do?"

Bryce clenched his jaw as he tried to think of a way out. His eyes darted to the adjoining door — maybe — they could slip out without being seen. He motioned for Henry to follow as he rushed across the room, cracking open the door so he could see if anyone was in there. He mouthed the words, "Come on."

Henry had no fight left in him. The pounding on the door and the shouting rattled him. The color drained from his face as he inched toward the door to let the FBI inside.

Bryce stepped into the other room, ignoring him and hurrying toward the outside door. As he reached for the doorknob, a man stepped from the bathroom, his hand hovering near his gun. The figure smirked. "Are you going somewhere?"

Bryce froze, cursing under his breath. The walls were closing in on him. He could hear Garth and his men in the other room and Henry's pathetic whine as he yelled, "It wasn't my idea. William set everything up." The reality was sinking in.

Garth chuckled as they handcuffed the deflated Bryce and Henry. His gaze shifted between the two men and he smirked, "And just like that, the whole operation fell apart."

Bryce's defiance flared. He squared his shoulders and glared at the FBI agent. "You may have us, but don't count on getting William."

Garth tipped his Stetson back and raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Bryce's confidence. "Oh? And what makes you so sure of that?"

Bryce sneered. "You have no idea where he is. You think you have everything under control, but he's already one step ahead of you." He chuckled. "You won't catch him."

Garth glanced at Tango and then stepped closer to Bryce, intimidating him with his six-foot-three frame. "He won't get far."

"You're wasting your time," Bryce shot back with confidence, though fear was gnawing at his gut. "He's got powerful people. He'll slip through cracks you never thought about."

Garth didn't like what he was hearing. "Now that Johan has given us a name, get a photo and all the information out to every TSA agent, every transportation depot, and the borders. Check with the consulate again. I want every possible base checked and double-checked."

If William was out there, the clock was ticking, and Garth wasn't about to let this man slip through his hands.

*****

Garth and his team sprinted through the airport terminal, weaving through passengers, knocking over suitcases, and racing against the ticking clock. They'd meticulously traced William's movements from the hotel to the airport, but time was slipping through their fingers. His significant head start had granted him a crucial advantage — he was on the brink of boarding a private jet owned by the German Consulate.

Tango yelled, "Gate 23."

Garth's heart sank when he spotted a figure moving through the gate. He recognized William. Still, he shouted, "We've got him!"

His hopes were short-lived.

Standing outside the gate was a well-dressed member of the German Consulate. He appeared relatively calm and composed as Garth, breathing heavily, approached, shouting and waving his hands, "Stop that man!"

The official stepped forward, blocking the entrance and holding his hands in front of him to stop Garth and his men. A trained group of well-dressed men formed a blockade behind him.

William disappeared into the tunnel and boarded the jet.

"Sorry —"

"That man's a criminal. I'm with the FBI and have orders to detain him and place him under arrest."

Using a smooth, diplomatic tone, the official refused to be intimidated and calmly answered the irate Garth, "The man in question is a highly respected German citizen and has boarded the flight, returning to our country. Of course, you are aware that he is under our protection."

Garth lunged at the official, and the men behind him moved forward. Tango grabbed his boss' arm. "Easy, Cowboy!"

Garth glared at Tango but stepped back, yelling, "That man is a criminal, and you know it!"

The consulate kept his composure, offering an empty diplomatic smile. "That's a matter for the courts to decide, sir. But as of now, he is on a diplomatic flight, and your jurisdiction ends here."

Two of Garth's men allowed their hands to hover above their weapons, but Garth knew they couldn't risk an international incident — and the consulate official knew it as well. It no longer was a simple arrest.

"You're letting him escape," Garth growled, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the official.

"I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you, but I have a duty to protect the man, as he is a citizen of our country."

Garth clenched his fists as he waited for the door to shut, knowing the plane was preparing for takeoff. A vision of William smiling smugly and accepting a glass of wine from the attendant flashed through his mind. Turning away, he muttered a curse under his breath.

"Tango — we're not done here. Track that plane!"

"Yes, boss, what else do you need?"

Garth snarled, "You can start by telling Poppa his job is over here, not with that flight attendant." He glared across the room at his agent, chatting with the woman. There would be hell to pay later, but he didn't have the time right now. He turned to his other agents. "Keep eyes on that plane. Notify all our contacts on the other side of the Atlantic. As soon as that plane lands, I want authorities waiting for him. Do whatever it takes. Understand?"

"Got it, boss!" Tango turned to the men and instantly instructed the rest of the team. The team scrambled to set things in motion. They utilized every source and every contact they had to get things done. Regardless of William's connections, Garth wouldn't let him have the easy way out.

As they left the terminal, Garth's mind raced. William might have slipped through their fingers today, but it was only a matter of time before everything caught up to him.

*****

Hours later, as the jet descended into Germany, local authorities were on standby. They coordinated with airport security, and a team of Interpol agents was ready to greet William as soon as the doors opened.

Back in the States, Garth paced Donatelli's office as he monitored the situation, his eyes glued to the tracker attached to William's luggage. He reminded himself that he owed Poppa and the flight attendant, who happened to be an old friend, his gratitude for getting the tracker onto the plane.

As the plane landed and taxied toward the terminal, German authorities surrounded the area—inside and out. They stopped and questioned every person who disembarked before allowing them to proceed. There was no sign of William.

The Interpol agents searched the first-class cabin. His luggage remained in the overhead compartment, but his supposedly assigned seat was empty. No one had seen him.

Before reaching out to Garth, Interpol thoroughly searched the entire plane. It was as if William had evaporated into thin air mid-flight.

*****

Garth's phone buzzed. He quickly answered, expecting to be told that William was in custody. Inspector Weber wasted no time as he relayed the bad news. "I'm afraid your man is not on the plane, sir."

What do you mean, not on the plane?" Garth barked into the phone. "He had to be there. We tracked him the entire flight."

"His luggage is here, but there is no sign of him. It's like he disappeared into thin air."

Garth gritted his teeth. "That's impossible unless he switched planes before the takeoff." Suddenly, he could see Bryce's confidence when he'd sneered William could slip through cracks we'd never considered. He was right!

"That's a possibility, but he'd have needed help."

"The German Consulate official! He had to know what the plan would be." His mind was racing. "Thanks, Inspector Weber. I'll get back to you."

Garth's frustration boiled over as he pounded his fist against Donatelli's desk, cursing loudly enough that Tango, who was on the phone in the next room, came to investigate.

He opened the door and asked, "Everything okay, boss?"

"No, it's not. Our perp wasn't on the plane."

"That's impossible. We saw him board and the jet take off. How'd he get off it?"

"He didn't because somehow he never got on it." Garth replayed everything in his head — the smug grin on the German official's face, the last-second boarding, the team of men blocking the door. It was too smooth. Somewhere, in the chaos of the airport, William had slipped away.

"Tango, check the cameras and see if there was a portable staircase near the gate. Sometimes, they have them available for VIP's secret departures. We didn't have time to watch for a move of that kind."

Garth's phone buzzed again. It was Danni. "Donatelli is in booking with the other two guys, but I was searching the CCTV footage from the airport. I think I found something interesting."

"What? At this point, I'll take anything."

"A vehicle pulled up near a restricted area just as the plane was boarding."

Adrenaline was pumping through Garth. "Get me that footage. We need to track him down. He might still be under our noses. I'm not giving up yet." He grabbed his Stetson from the credenza. "Come on, Tango, let's pay another visit to our friendly German consulate."