The dog’s posture had changed. The restless pacing of the pack didn’t affect him. Jax sat back on his haunches, his gaze fixed dead center on the unicorn patches, his nostrils flaring rhythmically to pull the scent across his palate.
Ben knew that stance. It was the specific, drilled alert for electronic devices and concealed power sources.
“Hey there,” Ben said, keeping his voice deliberately low and steady over the noise of the crowd. “I’m Officer Ben. Can you tell me your name?”
“Valerie,” the girl said. Her voice was small, wavering on the edge of tears despite her eerie stillness. “I’m waiting for my mommy and daddy.”
“Okay, Valerie. We’re going to help you find them.” Ben kept his hands visible, gesturing gently toward her chest. “Can you tell me about your backpack? Where did you get it?”
Valerie’s grip on the straps tightened. “A nice man at security gave it to me. He said it was a present because I was being brave. He said it has a special radio inside to help my parents find me.”
Every instinct Ben had spent twelve years honing screamed a warning. “What man, sweetheart? Was he wearing a uniform like mine?”
“Giles, what is your status? We have a massive crowd control issue at Gate 47.” The dispatcher’s voice barked through Ben’s earpiece, loud and irritated.
Ben ignored Command. He keyed his shoulder mic, locking eyes with the heavy leather jacket sagging off Valerie’s shoulders. “Command, this is Giles. I need a handheld RF and density scanner at Gate 47 right now. Priority response.”
The perimeter held. Two minutes dragged by in agonizingly slow motion as travelers continued to back away, forming a wide, empty crater in the middle of the concourse. Airport police began setting up physical barricades, their neon vests bright against the muted grays of the terminal.
Officer Chloe Chen broke through the inner ring of dogs, out of breath and gripping a handheld detection wand. She looked at the restless K-9s, then at Ben. “What do we have?”
“Run it,” Ben said, pointing at the girl’s chest. “The backpack.”
Chen stepped forward slowly, raising the wand. She activated the scanner, the device emitting a low, rhythmic click as she passed it over the pink fabric. The clicking abruptly spiked into a solid, high-pitched whine.
Chen stopped, her eyes dropping to the small digital display. The color drained from her face.
“Talk to me, Chloe,” Ben said.
“Strong RF signature,” Chen muttered, tapping the screen to confirm the reading. “Circuit patterns, high-draw power source. Ben, this is an active cellular relay. Someone stitched a high-end, real-time GPS tracker into the lining.”
This wasn’t a lost child. The man in the security uniform hadn’t given her a present to help her parents find her. He had turned a six-year-old girl into a walking beacon. Someone wanted to know exactly where she was in the terminal, and they were tracking her in real time.
Before Ben could process the tactical implications, a scream tore through the concourse.
“Valerie!”
Ben stood up, his hand dropping instinctively toward his duty weapon. A woman in a gray trench coat was fighting her way through the outer security perimeter, shoving against a TSA agent with frantic, uncoordinated strength. Her dark hair was coming out of its clip, and she was crying so hard she was gasping for air.
“That’s my niece!” she screamed, thrashing as two airport police officers grabbed her arms. “Let go of me! They’re coming for her!”
“Ma’am, step back! You need to calm down!” one of the officers yelled.
“Auntie Sarah?” Valerie’s voice broke the standoff. The little girl finally moved, taking a half-step forward, the unnatural stillness shattering as tears welled in her eyes.
The woman stopped fighting the officers, her knees buckling slightly at the sound of the girl’s voice.
Ben read the raw, unfiltered terror in the woman’s face. He signaled the officers. “Let her through.”