Author's note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Story note: This is a collaborative effort between Firsttimewriting (FTW) and Harry Flashman. The events take place in the fictional country of Nordland that is Harry's creation and characters from his series 'Officer Emelie Vikander' appear, action set after the events of 'Interracial Liaison Officer Part 1. Additionally, the storyline occurs after the events of 'Tracking Evil: The Web part 6' but before the not yet released 'part 7' Again, characters from this series created by Firsttimewriting appear.
-----
Chapter One: "If you have men who will only come if they know there is a good road, I don't want them. I want men who will come if there is no road at all." -- David Livingstone.
Failure can teach a person far more about themselves than success. Erica Anderson was getting tired of these lessons though. The back seat of the car she found herself in lacked nothing in comfort but still she found herself sitting in a rigid pose, muscles tensed with worry. The interior smelled of the fragrant cedar air freshener that swung from the rearview mirror by the driver. On its own, pleasant enough, however mixed with his aftershave which he must have showered in, it made her nose crinkle with distaste.
It had been about six months since Rufus had sought to enslave her to his will and Christ alone knew what else he'd had planned for her at the Spider's command. She didn't like to dwell on it but somehow she couldn't shake the feeling he was always close by, biding his time, content for now to just watch her. Time might have been a resource the Spider and Rufus were happy enough to waste, but for Erica and her friends, they felt every movement of the hands on the clock, sweeping through every clue they could gather, scattering them. Chasing down hopeful leads and impaling them with their lance-like forms. Because from the moment Shondra had told her, that was all Erica thought about, keeping hope alive and gathering clues and information. Information about Denisa.
Six months, one week, two days and coming up on four hours at present. That's how long it had been since her friend had been taken. Another piece snatched from the chessboard by The Spider, the man who controlled both a business empire and an organization of serial killers. On their own, these people would be terrifying enough. He had given them resources, training, support and purpose. Now all that Erica could think of was that each stranger she passed on the street could be a killer sent to end her. Even now as she was travelling down the road the scenery passing by her window was both seen and unseen. Whatever beauty lay beyond the limits of the car window faded into a blurring collage, only the people she noticed, checking for threats. Was it the bus driver sounding his horn at a distracted Tesla driver? The traffic cop waving them both on? Perhaps it was the Uber driver seated in front of her? Paranoia was exhausting and no doubt a weapon that The Spider was well aware of and had engineered circumstances to bring it to bear on Erica.
The car she was seated in, a Chevy Malibu in brilliant white, pulled up to the drop off point outside the international departures area at the airport. Erica smiled in thanks as the driver helped her get her bag from the trunk of the car, relieved to be escaping the cloying bouquet of the car's interior. He pulled away quickly while she cast suspicious glances to either side of herself before hurrying into the terminal and heading for the check in area. Until she was through security, Erica didn't mean to let her guard down for a moment. It was the middle of the week, not that it made any difference to the crowds clogging the departures section of the terminal. All Erica could do was to be glad that at least she wasn't travelling during peak season, as she found herself whipping her head from side to side with every accidental nudge by passing strangers. Steeling herself, as finding a sense of calm wasn't on the table, Erica tried to not overreact, knowing that it would only draw more attention to herself.
In the last six months, there had been three more direct assaults by members of The Web against Erica, Arlene and Shondra. Nothing as overt as Rufus's infiltration or as blatant as the heavily armed trio that had tried to kidnap Arlene, they had all been lone attackers. The strikes had all the characteristics of opportunistic endeavors, no real planning behind them. That had made them hard to predict but easy enough to defeat, the only injury sustained was a cut to Shondra's forearm from a knife thrust. Arlene's opinion was that these men had simply come across the women, recognizing them from their struggles against The Web and had just seen a chance for glory in dispatching the women. She felt that if The Spider had planned an attack it would have been more sophisticated than say a lone assailant hiding in a wardrobe of their motel room with a knife. Erica agreed with her.
Still, if any of them were being tracked, by only Rufus or The Spider's entire organization, this was a vulnerable moment for Erica. To travel abroad, she'd needed to ditch her alias and use her own passport when booking the flight. That meant she had no intention of dawdling because safety lay on the far side of the scanners and detectors at the security gates. She joined the queue, patiently shuffling forward while weary looking TSA agents processed the people in front of her. An old woman, clearly no frequent flyer, moved with glacier slowness as she placed her carry-on luggage on the conveyor. All around her, Erica heard the muttered curses of people as they saw the inevitable delay this one passenger would cause. Perhaps no more than two extra minutes having to queue but already there was tension so palpable you could cut with a knife.
A flight abroad, a holiday should have been a dream come true. Somewhere exotic where she could lie on a beach, sip margarita's and worry only about where she might dine that evening. That wasn't the purpose of this trip, much less that type of destination. She was on a flight to Nordland, a cold windswept island nation in Northern Europe. No beaches and warm weather for her, Erica's bag stuffed instead with thermals and thick woolen clothing. She'd opted to travel efficiently, wearing what she'd need on her arrival. Grey combats that were hard wearing and warm, close fitting so that her pert rear filled the seat of them to almost tailor-made perfection. A red and black flannel shirt, open now as the airport was warmer than anticipated, and beneath it a square necked black ribbed tank-top with three buttons at the front, two of them open to reveal her cleavage. Slung over her shoulder along with one of her bags was a grey mid length winter jacket. The fur lined hood promised to keep her head warm but still Erica had a woolen grey beanie cap stuffed in one of the coat's pockets along with a pair of gloves. Arlene owned the jacket, so naturally it seemed to be festooned with numerous exterior and interior pockets, the kind of practicality so typical of her friend.
It wasn't a holiday, because like everything else she'd done in this last six months, this trip was related to investigating Denisa's capture.
The TSA agent waved her forward, bespeckled and ferret faced, the middle-aged man had a decidedly officious manner about him which he combined with a supercilious look on his face. Erica passed her bags onto the conveyor belt leading to the scanner, stepping forward through the metal detector. It emitted a small beep, and the same TSA agent beckoned her over, requesting that she stand with arms raised to shoulder height while he passed a wand over her. She felt his hand settle with over familiarity on her hip as he passed around her, raising an eyebrow in a 'not fucking amused' arch that he caught as he finished his check.
