Independence Day: A Dewey Andreas Novel

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Independence Day: A Dewey Andreas Novel Page 41

by Ben Coes


  “He doesn’t have a shirt on,” said Calibrisi, incredulous.

  Tacoma stepped to the bar. He wrapped his arms around Dewey, then Calibrisi. He nodded to the bartender, who brought him a bottle of beer.

  “Okay, before you guys say anything, I have three points I wanna make,” said Tacoma, looking at Dewey.

  “Let me guess,” said Dewey. “You met someone who delivered a kill shot to your flak jacket–covered heart.”

  Tacoma shook his head.

  “First, I can’t help it if some magazine names me to their sexiest man alive list. Now, if you ask me, I should’ve been number two, but that’s water under the bridge. Second, I didn’t know about those two chicks they stuck in the picture.”

  “Chicks?” asked Katie. “Can you possibly be more offensive?”

  Tacoma took a big swig from the bottle.

  “And what’s third?” asked Dewey.

  “What?” asked Tacoma.

  “You said you had three points,” said Dewey. “That was two.”

  “I think I said two. I had two points.”

  “Do us all a favor and put a lid on it for a few minutes, will ya, Mr. Sexy?” said Dewey.

  Tacoma, slightly chastened, nodded, then grinned.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, man.”

  Just then, the hostess approached.

  “Your table is ready.”

  They followed the hostess to a table in the dimly lit back room. They ordered several bottles of wine along with dinner. They caught up as they ate, eventually enjoying Tacoma’s regaling them with his various exploits since the fateful day he killed the terrorist in New York harbor. At some point, they all realized Tacoma was not, in fact, bragging. He was as surprised, dumbfounded, and amused by it all as they were.

  After dessert had been cleared and there followed a lull in conversation, Dewey glanced at Calibrisi. His mind flashed to the beginning of it all. Castine. Calibrisi had flown up not because of the coming attack, not even because he needed Dewey. He came that day to rescue him. Dewey wasn’t good at saying thank-you, at least not with words, but he allowed a smile to come to his face. He picked up his wineglass.

  “Here’s to Hector,” said Dewey.

  “Here, here,” Tacoma chimed in, raising his glass.

  “To our fearless leader,” added Katie.

  Calibrisi smiled in silence and raised his glass, moving it to the other three.

  “So what are you going to do about Gant and Roberts?” asked Dewey, after downing the remaining wine in his glass.

  “Josh is spending some time in one of our more out-of-the-way stations,” said Calibrisi. “If there’s ever a terrorist threat in Biak, he’ll be the first to know.”

  “Biak?” asked Katie.

  “An island near Papua New Guinea,” said Calibrisi. “Apparently there’re still some cannibals running around, but personally I have my doubts.”

  “What about Roberts?” asked Dewey.

  Calibrisi smiled knowingly, but didn’t answer Dewey’s question.

  Just then, the waitress brought over the check, which Calibrisi grabbed before anyone else could.

  “So what are you up to tonight?” he asked Katie.

  “Nothing too exciting,” she said. “I might stay in the city. I don’t know.”

  “Doesn’t Igor live near here?” asked Tacoma, grinning at Katie.

  “Yeah, I think he does,” said Calibrisi.

  Katie smiled mischievously and then turned to Calibrisi.

  “How about you?”

  “I’m headed back tonight. I haven’t seen Vivian in a week.”

  Calibrisi looked at Dewey.

  “What about you?”

  “Me?” asked Dewey. He looked at his watch. “Oh, shit. I’m actually going to see something.”

  “Something?” asked Katie. “Or someone?”

  “Someone. It’s nothing.”

  Dewey got to his feet.

  “You’re not leaving yet,” said Tacoma. “Let’s hear it.”

  “No way.”

  “Come on, Grampa. Who is she?”

  Dewey shot Tacoma a look.

  “Someone whose identity is above your pay grade, studmuffin.”

  “So you won’t tell us who the lucky lady is?” asked Tacoma, flashing a smile.

  “Tell you what, tough guy,” said Dewey, “let’s arm wrestle. You win, I’ll tell you her name. I win, I get that leather jacket.”

  Dewey sat down. He put his right arm up, resting it on the table. Tacoma placed his arm on the table. Their hands met and clasped tightly together.

  A small crowd started to gather in the back room to watch—waiters and waitresses, a few people from the bar—until there wasn’t any more room left.

  “We go on three,” said Dewey. “Katie, you call it.”

  “Honestly,” said Katie, “you two are like little children.”

  “Katie,” said Dewey.

  “Fine,” she said, smiling. “One … two … three.”

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Last year, I brought my then six-year-old daughter to the Flatiron Building in New York City. This is the headquarters of my publisher, St. Martin’s Press. When Sally Richardson, the company CEO, heard we were in the building, she insisted on us coming up to her office to say hi. Sally was, as usual, incredibly busy. But she put everything on hold to welcome us. We caught up and shared some laughs. Feeling bad that we were taking up so much of the boss’s time, I suggested we should go so that Sally could get back to work.

  “Now hold on just a minute, Ben,” said Sally. She then turned to Esmé. “Esmé, before you leave, could you do something for me?”

  “Sure, Mrs. Richardson.”

  Sally patted the empty seat next to her.

  “Would you please read aloud to me?”

  Esmé walked over and sat down next to Sally on the big sofa. For the next ten minutes, she read aloud to Sally and the rest of us. It was a moment that reminded me why I became a writer, and why, with every book, I’m fortunate enough to have St. Martin’s Press on my side.

  So thank you everyone at SMP, with special gratitude to Sally, Keith Kahla, Jennifer Enderlin, George Witte, Martin Quinn, Jeff Capshew, Lisa Tomasello, Krista Loercher, Paul Hochman, Justin Velella, Kelsey Lawrence, Melissa Hastings, Rafal Gibek, Jason Reigal, Ervin Serrano, and Hannah Braaten. And a special thank-you to the late Matthew Shear, whose laughter and kindness I will never forget.

  I would also like to thank the talented group of people who represent me: Nicole James, Aaron Priest, Chris George, Terra Chalberg, and Rachel Sussman.

  As with every book, a number of technical experts offered me their guidance and thoughts. Thank you for your help: Gail Riley, Matthew Bunn, Alex Mijailovic, Kevin Ryan, Jonathan KomLosy, and Rorke Denver.

  An extra, very sincere thank-you to Nicole James and Keith Kahla, who demand nothing but the best from me, and then help me find it with their brilliance, toughness, patience, and, above all, humor.

  Finally, a heartfelt thank-you to my family, Shannon, Charlie, Teddy, Oscar, and Esmé. I’m very proud of you—each of you—for your own unique and wonderful gifts. You make me laugh, keep me humble, and always find a way to show me your love when I need it most. A hundred times a day, I think to myself, look at how lucky you are, the only person alive who can look at the five of you and and say the words, this is my family.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  BEN COES is the author of the critically acclaimed and New York Times bestselling Dewey Andreas novels, including Power Down, Coup d’État, The Last Refuge, and Eye for an Eye. He lives in Wellesley, Massachusetts.

  Follow the author on Facebook at www.facebook.com/bencoes. You can sign up for email updates here.

  ALSO BY BEN COES

  Power Down

  Coup d’État

  The Last Refuge

  Eye for an Eye

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  CONTENTS

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Ben Coes

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  INDEPENDENCE DAY. Copyright © 2015 by Ben Coes. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  “The Witness” ©copyright 1933 by W. H. Auden, renewed. Reprinted by Permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd.

  Cover design by Ervin Serrano

  Cover photographs: Statue of Liberty by darkshadow/Getty Images; sky by serg64/shutterstock

  eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-1-250-04316-0 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-4668-4126-0 (e-book)

  e-ISBN 9781466841260

  First Edition: June 2015

 

 

 


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