CHAPTER FORTY ANNA
CHAPTER FORTY
A NNA
A sound like a doorbell chimes over Anna’s headphones.
“Looks like company is calling.” Miguel selects the number two radio. “Dispatch, Flight 7038.”
“Flight 7038, dispatch. I’ve got the FBI on the line requesting to be patched through. Are you available to speak with them?”
Anna casts a look of frustration at Miguel. With their arrival into New York airspace, they don’t have time for this.
“This is Flight 7038,” Miguel says. “We are starting our descent over New York, but I can speak briefly with the FBI if you patch them through.”
“Roger that, Flight 7038. Stand by while I patch them through.”
Anna sits tall, gazing out at the darkness through the windshield. Miguel already spoke directly with an FBI agent earlier. They must have some very pertinent information to call again now, when they’re less than an hour from landing. The FBI wouldn’t be calling the cockpit just to get an update. They know that if they found the baby on the plane, they would communicate that immediately.
When the agent called earlier, he said they were working to confirm the baby had gone through TSA with his mother.
“Flight 7038, this is Special Agent Castillo.”
Anna recognizes the man’s voice from the last time he was patched through.
“One of our intelligence analysts discovered that the passengers in seats 15H and 15J boarded using stolen IDs.”
Anna and Miguel exchange glances. The shock in his eyes mirrors her own.
“We’re still working to confirm their real identities. In the meantime, we’d like your crew to search their luggage again. But advise them to be careful—we don’t know exactly who or what we’re dealing with. They may need to enlist the help of some of the passengers in case these two put up a fight. According to Makayla Rossi’s husband, his wife is suspicious of these two and raised concerns about them having a pet carrier. The carrier should be checked again too.”
“Roger that,” Miguel says. “We’re on our descent into LaGuardia, and we’re going to have our hands full landing in this weather, but I’ll instruct the crew to check that right away. We may not be able to contact you again, however, before we land.”
“Understood,” the agent says. “I’m sending a task force to meet your plane when you land at LaGuardia. Thank you.”
As Miguel signs off with the FBI agent, Anna stares at the sleet and rain hitting the windscreen, illuminated by the flashing of the wing strobe lights.
“Shit.” Miguel swipes the flight deck phone from the receiver, interrupting her thoughts. “This is bad.”