Chapter 36 - Bridge Crossing

The road from the Chicken Ranch to the Interstate was the roughest part of the ride. Finne and Sarah lay directly on top of the pickup’s bed with only two horse towels to pad them from the well-worn steel. Above them they had thrown three pieces of pre-fabricated duck blind which covered them completely and was perfectly in character for the truck in which they were riding. Perfect camouflage – literally. Finne knew the ride back to DC was at least an hour and it would be incredibly uncomfortable the whole way. He was surprised that Sarah hadn’t complained – this was the second time she acted other than Finne had expected. Despite her long rap sheet, maybe she had matured, Finne thought to himself. Or maybe the trauma of the past few hours had sent her into shock – that was a real possibility he needed to manage. Finne knew by the steady pace and lack of stoplights they were encountering that they must be on Route 50 heading west – if the driver was truly sent by Jack and he was taking them where he promised, a big if in Finne’s mind.

Above the steady hum of the tires traversing the roadway, Finne could hear a voice from the cab. The driver had opened the rear glass panel and was trying to get his attention. Scurrying forward on his belly, Finne made his way to the front of the pickup bed and leaned his head in toward the open window.

“We’re going to switch cars and get you into a more comfortable ride in 2 miles,” the driver relayed. “When we pull off the highway, stay down until I let you know you can come out. We’ve got this place well controlled, but it’s been kind of crazy for the past few days. I’ll let you out the back bed.”

The driver closed the window and Finne began re-processing everything he just heard. Changing cars. 2 miles. The driver knows something about something crazy like what Finne and Sarah have been through, and they were going to be let out the back of the bed. First priority was to keep Sarah safe, he thought. Finne worked his way back to Sarah while turning himself on his stomach facing the rear of the bed.

“Sarah, this ride won’t be much longer, I promise. But, I need you to work your way toward the front of the truck and tuck yourself into the corner behind the driver. I feel we are in good hands, but if something goes wrong, that’s where I want you to stay. In the corner behind the driver. Keep your head down until I say it is OK. Ok?” Finne instructed.

“OK,” was Sarah’s only response. She then began shifting and turning under the weight of the three walls of PVC, mesh, and jungle cover in order to move to where Finne had commanded. Within inches of reaching the front corner of the bed the truck began to decelerate and she could feel it moving to the right. The change in direction and velocity caused her slide into the corner with enough of a bump to cause her right shoulder to burn with pain. Sarah wanted scream profanities as would be expected of her normal self, but she bit her lip and kept silent, fearful of the events unfolding in her life. Sarah trusted Finne immensely, she thought. But she knew she knew nothing about what was happening, and she feared whether or not she wanted to.

The truck came to a stop and then was driven in reverse for a few yards. Finne held his sidearm in front of him ready to shoot if necessary. He figured that a prone position facing outward from the rear gate that was to be opened put him in the best position to shoot across the plane that would open in front of him and escape to better cover in the process if needed.

The driver tapped the rear gate twice and said, “it’s OK.” The rear gate was being opened, but Finne remained at high alert. Once opened, Finne recognized the driver from the near conflict at the Chicken Ranch. Two other men stood behind the gate. Both wore khaki cargo pants and short-sleeve, un-tucked, madras shirts in bland tan and green colors. Finne knew the driver wasn’t armed when he let him in the garage. Finne also knew both of these other two men were armed heavily. Obvious bulges under each’s right arm gave away the fact that they were carrying shoulder-strapped automatic weapons. Finne guessed they were MP5s or the latest iteration of Uzi. Finne now knew he could not win this fire fight and was desperate for an indication that things were not going to go that way.

“Come on, come on,” the driver urged. These men are here for your security. Please, get into the van.”

Looking to the left as the driver had gestured, Finne saw a dark blue 16 passenger van with tinted windows. It was running and Finne presumed that a driver would make three armed “friends” for the next part of the ride to DC.

Finne slid out, lowering one leg then the other from the pickup bed and raised himself with deliberate manner to allow him to still get a first shot off if necessary. Finne’s hackles were raised but with each second that passed he began to accept the scenario as explained. No weapons were drawn against him. The two armed hulks were more focused on the perimeter beyond than on Finne even though his weapon was drawn.

“It’s OK, Sarah. Come on out,” Finne assured.

The two entered the waiting van finding it empty other than the driver and two security men. As the van pulled away, Finne watched behind and determined a second vehicle, a Chevy suburban, also dark with tinted windows was following matching the speed and lane maneuvers of the van with the utmost professional driving skills. Finne began to take comfort in the ride, but he still feared whatever awaited them at the destination.

“Where are we headed?” Finne asked of the driver.

“Langley, sir” was the reply.

“I went to Langley,” Sarah shared out loud not knowing how ridiculous her interjection sounded to the group in the car.

“Not the high school, Sarah.” Finne responded. “We’re going to the CIA.”

Sarah thought he was kidding. But looking across the deadpan faces of everyone else in the van, she realized he was not.

“Are they gone check my ID, because I have a bit of a …” Sarah began to say before Finne interrupted.

“Sarah, you have a warrant for your arrest in both Fairfax County Virginia and Montgomery County Maryland. Both of which would cause you plenty of trouble if you were to be pulled over or checked out by a police officer in any state in the country.” Finne relayed with an authoritative yet non-judgmental tone. “You are not going to ever have to worry about either of those problems again if things proceed like I think they will.”

“Montgomery County, that’s bullshit! That cop thought he loved me and made my life miserable. I didn’t do shit!” Sarah exulted.

“You stabbed him with a pair of scissors, Sarah and you are charged with assaulting a police officer. I assure you that you did do shit!” Finne replied.

“Never mind any of that.” Finne continued. “If I am correct, you will never be Sarah Simpson again. I need you to prepare for that case. You will have to leave everything and everyone you know behind. This is real. Prepare yourself!”