Chapter Seventy-Eight
Twenty-four hours later, Tasha found herself lying on her belly in the skeleton of an aircraft hangar, which was under construction. The smell of gun oil was strong, coming from her weapon. She’d spent time cleaning it early in the morning after awakening from her customary nightmare.
In her ear was a Bluetooth receiver connected to a radio scanner in her bag. She’d been here listening to aircraft and tower communication for several hours, learning the terminology and developing an understanding of how certain areas around the airport were referred to by ground control.
One of the valuable pieces of information her CIA contacts had provided her was the call sign of the aircraft that was supposed to be bringing her target to her. She lay still, patiently waiting for
