O'Connell ran inside his car with some pain killers, along with a new supportive drug, and with an aspirator. His mother was breathing as if she was choking on air. While pumping air from the aspirator to her mouth he wondered how she had managed to survive for such long time. Perhaps she had access to oxygen cylinders there.

After his mother started to regain breath, O'Connell caught his breath and felt relieved as never before. But he knew he had no time to celebrate his triumph so he looked inside the briefcase. He moved his eyes to the plane ticket and discovered the ticket had date printed of current day. Taggart and Raymond had plotted perfect. To his shock, he had failed to notice another ticket stuffed inside one ticket. So basically they had two plane tickets with them. And underneath the pile of papers was another passport which belonged to his mother. Without a doubt it was his mother's passport which was unused for many years. After confirmation he checked his passport by thinking those could have something to do with someone whom Raymond had called D'Amares.

He flipped to the first page and saw his photo in darkness. As far as he could guess, they had made his passport without even letting him know.

He kept searching for some connection of those objects with D'Amares. He felt so dizzy he couldn’t read what was written on those documents. He didn’t know if he was late for the flight or not. He narrowed his eyes and had tough time in figuring out airport number from plane ticket. He called on the number and a male receiver answered the call, "Seattle Tacoma International Airport. How may I help you?"

"Flight. The flight. I have no idea about the flight number. I just want to know if any planes have left to France or it has yet to take off?"

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The receiver seemed confused. Flight number? What the hell?

"Transit or direct –"

"Seems direct to me."

"Two planes were scheduled for France. One was this morning and the other one hasn’t taken off. It still is on the runway but I'm afraid sir."

"For what? It's the great news for me. I – I'm n – not late." He stuttered.

"Sir, no flight has taken off since couple of hours. One flight had landed due to emergency but now neither more flights are coming or will take off."

"What do you mean? Delay or what?" O'Connell said.

"Sort of delay." he sympathized.

"Is it a couple of hours' delay or the shorter one?"

"Hours? It may cause delay up to two days. Weather has turned so bad in this area, flights can’t take off. Flights may face risk of crashes if air traffic keeps going."

O'Connell felt like his ear had been hit with a golf ball. He did not respond to him. He sensed himself losing his body temperature and gaining numbness all over his body.

"Sorry sir." He said. After it, O'Connell didn’t know when the call had been hung. His mobile phone fell on the open front page of his passport.

The phone's screen light illuminated words printed on the passport.

O'Connell read his name in disbelief for several times, finding it hard to trust his eyes. Raymond hadn’t just created a fake passport for him. He had created a whole fake identity for him – 'Célestine D'Amares'.

Raymond's words echoed in his ears, "I killed O'Connell." Now it somewhat made sense to him.

He backed his car. His escape plan had been ruined. Just one man could help him – Raymond. He knew where Raymond could be.

He no longer wanted to go in the airport. He ran for his home.

If my guess is right, about what's he gonna do next, he can't be anywhere except my home. He rubbed his eyes…pills were working pitch perfect.