The Vanishing Point Read Online Free

Vivian as nothing had for months. ‘Jeez, Parton. We’re going to have to call a Code Adam.’ She reached for the phone, wondering who she should phone first when it came to closing down the world’s busiest airport.
    Shamefaced, Parton half-turned his head away. ‘It’s too late to go to lockdown. We didn’t understand what was happening fast enough. They’ll be long gone. You can check the footage if you don’t believe me. You really don’t want to call a Code Adam unless you’re sure they’re still on the premises.’
    Vivian took his point. That would be a fast way to end her career. She gave a short, sharp sigh and hit the rarely used speed-dial button for the airport CCTV control centre. Parton, looking offended, started to speak but she held up a finger to silence him. ‘Hey,’ she said when the controller answered. ‘This is Special Agent McKuras in the FBI office. I need you to send me the feed for the last hour from—’
    ‘Security area two, terminal three.’ Parton was eager now, sensing that Vivian’s actions might get him off an awkward hook.
    Vivian repeated the details and reminded the controller of her computer ID. She hung up and attacked her keyboard, fingers deft and fast. Strictly speaking, she should bring in one of her colleagues to watch the footage with her. But the two men she shared the airport posting with inhabited a cubbyhole office in the international terminal. She didn’t want to wait for one of them to drag himself over. If there had been a kidnap, every minute counted, especially since they’d been too slow off the mark to call a Code Adam. Besides, she had a ready-made witness in the room, however low her opinion of him. She looked up at Parton. ‘We’ll have a better idea of what we’re dealing with now. Why don’t you bring the chair round where you can see my screen? Two pairs of eyes are better than one.’
    Parton grabbed the chair and angled it by the corner of the desk so he could see the screen. He sat down, stretching his long legs out and folding his arms across his chest. A whiff of laundry detergent and fried meat caught her throat and without thinking she drew away from him. He caught her movement and grunted, tucking his legs under the chair to take up less space. ‘It’s a great system,’ he said. ‘When it works.’
    ‘Let’s hope this is one of those days,’ Vivian muttered, clicking her mouse button to open up a new window. She was offered a choice of three cameras that covered the security area. ‘Which one?’
    Parton leaned forward, a long bony finger extended. ‘That one. The middle one.’
    Vivian checked her watch. ‘How long ago did this happen?’
    ‘About twenty minutes ago.’
    She pulled up the camera feed and scrolled back twenty-five minutes then set it running. They watched in silence for a couple of minutes. Then a woman and child walked into shot, filling the plastic trays on the far side of the metal detector. ‘That’s her,’ Parton said.
    ‘And that boy is definitely with her.’ Vivian paused the recording and studied the pair. The woman looked taller than average. Around five nine, maybe. Mid-brown hair in an untidy jaw-length bob. Striking looks, with high cheekbones, a square chin, a wide mouth caught in a smile as she looked at the boy. She looked like she had that English-rose colouring, all pink and white. The kid had a thick mop of black hair, olive skin, cheeks like apricots. He was all arms and legs, wiry and clumsy like a foal in one of those sentimental race-horse movies. He didn’t look like he’d sprung from her genes. And yet there was no denying it. ‘They’re together, Parton.’
    ‘Shit.’
    They watched the boy move through the metal detector and over to the far side of the X-ray machine where their possessions would reappear on the delivery belt. He looked over his shoulder towards the woman, who smiled and gave him the thumbs-up sign as she entered the box to wait for a female officer to