Safe House/Airport

They reached the new safe house within an hour, and as they pulled into the drive, he noticed the house was different. Wide open yard, freshly manicured, single story dwelling, not really out of place amongst the neighborhood. Pulling into the drive, he noticed a grate extending the width of the driveway, which normally would be reserved for cattle to deter them from entering. Really smart, he thought, that would make noise on tires if anyone approached by vehicle. Turning his attention back to the house he noticed cameras on each corner, pointing both directions to prevent blind spots. Pulling up to the house, he noticed the garage door, which was closed as the van pulled up to it and shut off. The agents in the front got out first, checking their surroundings, then the passenger poked his head back in, saying, "All clear."

Getting out, the driver and Stillman walked up the sidewalk to the front door, one agent in front and the other guarding the rear. The one in front entered a code on the keypad, then opened the door. Swinging inward, the beeping of the house alarm notified them that it was active, and needed to be taken care of. Another code, then the beeping fell silent. The agents went in, cleared the house, then Stillman and the driver went in, checking through everything to make sure it was in order. Once satisfied, they all retreated back to the van, which in turn sped off, heading towards the airport.

Roughly thirty minutes later, the sound of airplanes came into focus, as they approached Midway Airport. Pulling into the arrival departure area, the orderly at the curb came up to the van, and the passenger side agent flashed his badge, to which the orderly pointed them further down the causeway, where two black cars were waiting. The agent driving the van flashed his lights at them, and the rear car backed up about 35 feet, and the van pulled between them. Four agents got out of each car, along with the two agents and Stillman, and everyone pooled around the passenger side rear entrance of the van. Stillman introduced the truck driver to them, explaining the mission to each of them, and in turn they all nodded almost unanimously in agreement. Stillman released them, and then closed the door. Taking a radio out of his pocket, he keyed it up saying, "Radio check on TAC-2, acknowledge."

"Copy radio check, loud and clear, command," the reply came over the walkie speaker.

"Target will be in one of our Gulfstreams, female, approximately mid 30's, brown hair, medium build. She will be armed, and has been informed of the situation. Your objective is to make contact, escort and guard until your have cleared the building. Subject will ride with us in the van. If you encounter any hostiles, do not mix it up. Defend her and get her here, after which you can engage at will. Any questions?" Stillman asked.

"ETA to arrival of the Gulfstream, sir?" the speaker asked.

Looking down at his watch, Stillman keyed back up. "Approximately one zero minutes from this time. Get through security and have head TSA agent apprised of the situation. If they have any additional people to spare, use them. Under no circumstances do you engage hostiles except for surpression until the target is safe. Explain that very clearly to TSA. Anything else?"

"Negative sir," came the response.

"Then maintain radio silence until objective is complete, except for emergency," Stillman said, then set down the radio. Sitting in the van, they waited patiently for the Gulfstream to arrive. Approximately 10 minutes later, Stillman identified it coming in for approach, then felt in his pocket, grabbing his cell phone. Answering it, he said, "Stillman."

"Yes sir, this is Gulfstream 20, landing at Midway, do you copy?" the voice at the other end of the line asked.

"Copy loud and clear, Gulfstream 20. Go ahead with your traffic," Stillman replied, putting the speakerphone on, so the driver can hear.

"Roger, sir, we have on board one HVT, two agents, and flight crew, coming in from Dallas. HVT at this time is very inebriated, and the two agents are trying to rouse her. Be advised, we're going to need a resupply of alcohol on board, sir," Gulfstream 20 replied.

Looking over at the driver, Stillman said, "Roger that. Escort HVT to agents on standby, who will escort her to us. Over and out." With that, he ended the call, and asked, "What gives with the alcohol?"

"Sorry," the driver explained. "I forgot to tell you, my wife hates flying. She'll do it in an emergency, but she's not a good flyer unless she has a couple stiff ones. My fault for forgetting that detail."

"I can understand where she comes from," Stillman said. "I hate flying myself. That's why we keep alcohol on the planes."

Nodding, the driver turned back his attention to the radio, which had some static coming through. Looking at Stillman, the driver's face changed to one of concern. Stillman looked down, then picked up the radio. "Unit 1, this is command, do you have traffic?" A garbled transmission came through, and Stillman spoke into the microphone. "Say again Unit 1, repeat last traffic." Nothing came through, so Stillman spoke into the mic again. "Unit 2, this is command. Did you understand traffic from Unit 1?"

"Negative sir," Unit 2 said, with a bit of static in the background.

Stillman furrowed his eyebrows, then keyed back up. "Unit 2, how do you read my traffic?"

"Mild static sir, but able to understand," Unit 2 replied.

Creasing his eyebrows further, Stillman told the driver, "That's odd. There shouldn't be static on these radios. Even air traffic control has to accept interference before we do."

Grabbing the Glock, the driver said, "Yeah, unless there's a localized jammer in the area." He started to get up, only to be pulled back by Stillman.

"Whoa, cowboy," he said. "Hang on a sec. Let's play this out first." He grabbed the walkie, then keyed up again. "Command to Unit 2, what's your 20 and status?"

"Unit 2 is past the security area, about halfway down the concourse, 4 agents plus me," was the reply.

"Unit 2, you have new orders. Proceed to Unit 1, and ascertain the situation. Give assistance as needed."

"Roger that," Unit 2 replied.

Setting the radio back down, Stillman looked at the driver. "Sorry about that, but we don't leave the van unless it's a dire emergency. I understand you're protecting your wife, but if you get seriously injured or killed, then we lose everything. I know it's a cold thing to do, and I apologize, but you are priority number one. We have enough agents in there to get the job done, and we haven't seen anyone going in that looks suspicious yet."

Fuming, the driver relaxed back in the seat. Looking at Stillman, he said, "I understand, but now I have another problem. That arm you grabbed was attached to the shoulder that was just fixed." With that, he set the gun down in the seat, and grabbed his shoulder. Feeling tendrils of pain start to shoot down his arm, he winced as the mini lightning bolts danced up and down his arm. Trying to push his shoulder back up, the driver tried to ease the pain that way, but to no avail.

"Ah, crap, let me call Dr. Zhen," Stillman said. Pulling the phone out of his pocket again, he hit the speed dial for the doctor.

"Hello, Agent Stillman," Dr. Zhen said over the phone.

"Hey doc, sorry for bothering you," Stillman began, "but we seem to run into a bit of a predicament. This driver tried to leave out of the vehicle, and when I grabbed his arm, he came back and started grabbing his shoulder. Is there any way we can meet you and make sure he's okay?"

"Absolutely," Dr. Zhen replied. "Just bring him by my house, and I'll check him here. What time will you be getting here?"

"Give us about 45 minutes doc, we're just finishing up some stuff here," Stillman said.

"OK," Zhen replied. "i'll see you two soon."

"Thanks, doc," Stillman said as he ended the call.

Turning to the driver, he said, "Sorry about your arm. Instinctive reaction, trying to keep you safe. Besides," he gestured, "here comes everybody now."

Turning, the driver saw all of the agents coming out, escorting his wife, who looked like she hadn't done her hair in a week, clutching her purse like a running back carrying a football. One agent bringing up the rear had a black eye, and was clutching his head like he had a migraine. As the rear door slid open, he said to the agent with the black eye, "Let me guess.... you tried to carry her purse?"

As she climbed in the back, the black-eyed agent said, "Yes sir, and when she yanked it out of my hands, she did a back swing and connected pretty hard."

"Rule number one with my wife," the driver explained, "Is never try to take her purse. That's her lifeline. I don't even mess with it unless she asks me to," he said. Turning to his wife, he asked, "You okay, baby?"

"I was fine," she said, "until this retard tried to grab my purse. Now, I've lost my buzz from the flight because of this numbskull."

Chuckling, he said, "I understand, but we're on the ground now, so you're safe. And we do need to thank these gentlemen for helping you," he said with a smile on his face.

Pouting a little, she said, "Okay," then turned to the agent with the black eye and said, "I'm sorry I hurt you. Thank you for helping me, and I know you didn't know about my purse. I hope you can forgive me."

Chuckling, the agent took it in stride. "No problem, ma'am," he said. "It'll be a good conversation piece back at the office. Shows I can't even be a good purse nabber without getting clobbered."

Chuckling, the driver said, "Well, when this is all over, I'll treat you to a nice steak dinner, Texas style. You just set up the time, and I'll be there to make sure you get treated right."

Nodding, the agent said, "It's a deal."

Closing the door, the agent left, and got in the front car, where he waited for the rest of his team. The two agents climb in the front, and locked the doors. As the front car drove away, the van started back towards the safe house. Not seeing the rear car pass by, the driver asked, "Are we going to have an escort?"

"Only to the doctor's house, then they have to go," Stillman replied.

"Doctor?" the driver's wife asked.

"Yeah," the driver explained, "I got a little hasty thinking something was wrong, and when he pulled me back, I felt a twinge in my shoulder, and then lightning felt like it was going up and down my arm."

"Well, you need to get that checked," his wife said. "I need all your muscles when get to wherever we're going," she said with a wink.

"And as much as I'd love to use all of them, I'm afraid we're going to have round the clock company while we're here," the driver said apologetically. "The most we can hope for is some shower time together."

"Well," she said, "better than nothing."

Stillman smiled, and the driver said, "I promise that we'll be tidy and clean up, man."

"No worries," Stillman said. "I'm just doing a little reminiscing myself."

Sitting back in the seat, his wife at his good side, the driver tried to get comfy before he got to Zhen's house, but it was no use. The more he tried, the worse it got. Finally, he gave up and just leaned forward, taking the pressure of the seat back off of his shoulder. It didn't make it better, but at least it didn't make it worse.

Arriving at Zhen's house, they got out, and walked up the sidewalk. Zhen was standing there, waiting to bring them inside. As they went in, the driver was amazed by the high-end quality of the furnishings inside. As if on cue, he took his shoes off, and Zhen chuckled at the sight.

"Many people are afraid to even walk on the carpets, but you took your shoes off, which I am thankful. Here," he gestured, "put these on." He motioned towards a pair of wooden sandals. Everyone changed into the wooden sandals, and Zhen guided them towards the garden, which had a hut-like structure, into which they entered.

The smell of sandlewood wafted through the air in small wisps, creating a surreal picture. A small massage bed was over in the far corner, and a table had several cups, along with a china pot with steam coming from the spout. Gesturing to the table, Zhen had the driver take off his shirt, then lay face down on the table. Once settled, Zhen applied pressure in certain points of his shoulder, many of which did not bother the driver, until he caught a certain nerve, which sent shots of pain back into his arm. Crying out, he went to turn over, but Zhen just motioned him to stay calm. Rubbing some liquid onto his hands, the doctor started rubbing onto the driver's shoulder. Then pain started to ease up some, and Zhen then applied pressure to a point just below where the nerve was aggravated. Feeling a small click, the driver's shoulder suddenly stopped hurting, and a sense of calm overcame him. Sighing in relief, he told Zhen, "That's the spot. How'd you know?"

"Acupuncture," the doctor simply replied. "I'm not allowed to practice this at the hospital, but at my home, it is a different matter. I do not charge for this service, as most of my patients do not need this, save for a small percentage. Here," he said, handing the driver's wife a small vial. "Take this, and apply to his shoulder once a day. Make sure he rest for three days, then I will come visit to check on progress." With that, he turned to a large basin, and washed his hands.

The driver got up, and put his shirt back on. "Doc, that feels fantastic. If you don't mind me asking, got anything for the bedroom?" he asked with a grin.

"If you need something for that, then you are not doing it right," Zhen chuckled. "Judging from what I have been told, you are more than amply suited for the task in terms of size." He dried his hands on a small towel, then ushered everyone back to the main house.

After saying their goodbyes, everyone put their shoes back on, and got back in the van. The sound of the motor meant they were on the highway, so the truck driver leaned back, his wife in his good shoulder, and enjoyed the ride back to the safe house.