The Escape (US Marshals #1) - Lisa Harris Page 0,6
told me, though I’m not surprised. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, and you . . . I thought you lived back East?”
“I just moved back, actually.”
“Jonas used to live here, which is why he and I go way back.” Michaels grabbed a stack of papers off his desk. “His father and I were close friends on the force.”
“Welcome home, then,” she said.
“Thank you.” Jonas shoved his hands into his pockets. “How long has it been? Three years—”
“Four,” she said, too quickly.
He caught a glimpse of pain in her expression and regretted his comment. If she’d still been dealing with the death of her husband during the training, she wouldn’t have forgotten the time frame.
“After working under you, my basic training at the academy seemed like a breeze,” she said.
“Somehow I doubt that, but clearly I wasn’t the only one you impressed,” Jonas said, glancing at Michaels.
“You’re right,” Michaels said, “but unfortunately catching up is going to have to wait for another day.” He handed her a copy of the file. “You’ll be moving two federal prisoners by air, leaving in forty-five minutes. They’re both deemed highly dangerous, so you’re going to want to watch your backs.”
Madison glanced at Jonas. “Forty-five minutes is cutting it close. We’re going to need to go over the prisoners’ paperwork, check the plane before the prisoners board—”
Michaels shot her a wide grin. “Which is why I’m sending in my best.”
Madison nodded at the compliment. Both of them had been trained to handle any situation that might evolve in their line of work, but that didn’t erase the adrenaline rush that always came with an assignment. You could never assume anything with a high-risk transportation. Never let your guard down. From searching the plane for any contraband to studying prisoner posture, they had to expect that the prisoners’ mindset was to escape.
Theirs was to ensure they didn’t.
Madison flipped open her file. “So what have we got?”
“Paul Riley was arrested for robbing a diamond exchange and has three cases of armed robbery, and most recently, murder. Damon Barrick was arrested for the murder of a local couple outside of Denver and is being sent back there for his trial. Both carry flight risks, which is why I chose the two of you to transport them.
“Two pilots, two prisoners,” Michaels continued. “Flight will be just under three hours. You’ll touch down in Denver at 1400 hours, where your plane will be met by US Marshals from the local office who will then escort them to the courthouse. I’ve got you both scheduled on a red-eye flight back here tonight.”
His phone rang and he grabbed it off his desk. “Your ride is waiting.”
On the way to the airport, they checked their weapons and went over the flight plan and every possible variable they could think of. The paperwork Michaels had given them contained each prisoner’s ID, medical history, and security data, essential information to ensure they hadn’t overlooked any details. At the airport, the prisoners went through another pat-down before being secured on the aircraft. In a few moments, the pilot had the go-ahead for takeoff.
Even with the time crunch, Jonas preferred to keep to the same routine each time he flew as an assurance he didn’t forget anything important. Thankfully, Madison still seemed just as diligent and focused as he remembered.
He secured his seat belt while they waited for air traffic control to give them the green light. Ten minutes passed and they were in the air. Jonas studied their two passengers, who were restrained with handcuffs and ankle and waist chains. Although he didn’t anticipate any problems with the transport, their job wouldn’t be done until the marshals in Denver took over.
Madison shifted in her seat across from him, her body language indicating she was just as alert as he was. “How long have you been back?”
“Arrived a couple days ago. I’m looking forward to the change of pace.”
“I get that, though this is probably going to be my last flight out of Seattle.”
“You’re retiring?” he asked, surprised at her admission.
“Relocating. I’ve asked for a transfer to the Portland office.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Personal reasons.”
He studied her expression but couldn’t read her. Neither was he surprised by her answer. Clearly she was just as guarded as when he’d worked with her before, making him wonder what secrets were hidden behind those light-brown eyes.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
She shook her head, indicating it didn’t matter, but she didn’t offer any personal information either. “Michaels said you’re from here?”