CHAPTER FOURTEEN
2:15 p.m.
The Skies over the Gulf of Mexico
The dark blue Secret Service Learjet zoomed over vast blue water.
Once again, Luke and his team used the front four passenger seats as their meeting area. They stowed their luggage, and their gear, in the seats at the back. The narrow tube of the plane was a Babel of voices, as four conversations went on at once.
“I need chatter,” Swann said into his phone. “I don’t care. It’s never completely dead. Give me anything. The slightest clue.”
“Six hours is too long,” Trudy said into her phone. “We don’t have that kind of time. Five thirty this afternoon is the drop dead date. Yes, five hundred full personal protection suits, and one hundred infrared thermometers per airplane. Yes, full means full. Suits, masks, boots, gloves, go
