Maggie got up from her desk and paced. It had been roughly twenty-one hours since Mike had disappeared. In Belgium, ISIS had blown up the biggest airport in the country, followed by another blast at a metro station on the opposite side of that city. She had slept for an hour, head on her desk, sometime in the wee hours of the morning, but turned down every request to take her someplace secure so she could rest.
Tracking was still on going.
The first lead had been a camera in one of the laundry rooms of the apartment complex. It was aimed at the door, which had a large window. A two-second clip of the feed which was recording at three frames per second displayed two men dragging a third between them. None of it was good enough for facial recognition, but Maggie and everyone else at the un
