Bedtime Story: The Night Train — Night 33
The Night Train
Copyright 2014 by Barbara Hinske
The black Suburban with the darkly-tinted windows picked her up within the hour. Col. Sullivan told her the driver would bring her to his office at the CIA. Rachel eyed the driver nervously. Tall, muscular, and dressed in a black track suit, he barely nodded to her when she thanked him for helping her with her suitcase and hadn’t said a word.
Rachel was excited and terrified – in equal measure – at the prospect of delivering her cargo deep within the bowels of the world’s most famous spy headquarters. Would she disappear without a trace after discharging her promise to Kosof? She immediately dismissed the thought as ridiculous; she’d watched too many movies. This was America, after all.
Her driver wove through a series of gates. She recognized the CIA Headquarters building from seeing it on television. He escorted her inside and her passage was swift and sure, as if she was expected. He walked her to a lone elevator at the end of a hallway and placed her inside, pushing the single button, and exited as the door shut. “Col. Sullivan will meet you,” were the only words he uttered.
She recognized Col. Sullivan when she stepped off the elevator: he was her fellow presenter; the man with the tattoo on the back of his neck.