by Stuart Woods
“Then let’s get out of here,” she said.
“Right. Have you ever been to Maine?”
“No, never.”
“Here’s your chance. Get your gear together while I make a call or two.”
* * *
—
A taxi drove them to a country airport not far from Ed’s house, and a moment later, a Citation M2 light jet set down and taxied over to them. The single pilot loaded the luggage, while Ed answered a call.
“It’s Stone.”
“Are you still alive?” Ed asked.
“Alive and well.”
“Not bound head and foot in a dank cellar somewhere?”
“Nope, but I’ve been thinking about your advice, and I’m going to take it.”
“Good. We’re about to take off, so I’ll speak to you this evening.” They hung up.
* * *
—
Two and a half hours later the M2 set down on the short runway on Islesboro, and Ed paid the pilot in cash and called the local taxi, while the aircraft taxied out and took off. It would stop for refueling at Rockland, then continue back to Virginia.
They stopped at the village store to pick up the groceries he had ordered. Then, as they approached Ed’s house, he told the driver to stop, while he got out his iPhone and checked the cameras around the property, inside and outside the house. Then he told the driver to continue and used the phone to open his gate. “Turn around, point the car at the gate, and keep the engine running,” Ed said, then he did a close inspection of the property and house. Satisfied that they were alone, he paid the driver and moved their luggage and groceries inside.
“Ed,” Sally said, “this is not false praise, but I like this place even better than the one we just left.”
“Then I’m happy,” Ed said. “Unpack while I secure the place.” He turned on the TV sets in the kitchen, bedroom, and living room and displayed the twelve outdoor cameras on each, then he opened his concealed gun closet and chose weapons to scatter about the house and property, so that he would never be far from one, should he need it.
While Ed did his work, Sally put away the groceries and made lunch. When they had finished, he called Stone.
“Hey.”
“Where are you?”
“Just landed at Rockland, we’re transferring to the Cessna, and we’ll be home in less than an hour.”
“We’re safe and here. Call me to let me know that you made it, or I’ll be over there, guns ablaze.”
“Will do. Come to dinner, drinks at six?”
“Love to.” Ed hung up. “We have a dinner invitation,” he said to Sally. “It will most likely be lobster, so I hope you like that.”
“I do.”
“The TVs and my library are at your disposal,” Ed said. “If you’re watching TV and the picture suddenly turns to security cameras, that means somebody is nearby. If I’m napping, wake me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, giving him a smart salute.
Ed settled into his reclining chair and was soon snoring softly. A half hour later he got a call from Stone saying they had arrived safely, then he went back to sleep.
* * *
—
Stone and Rocky settled into the master suite, while Dino and Viv made themselves comfortable down the hall; they would stay until Dino’s office forced him to return.
Stone stretched out for a nap, when his cell phone rang, Joan calling. “Yes?”
“Are you there and safe?”
“Yes, thanks, we’re fine.”
“I’ve got a call for you on the other line. I thought you might want to talk to him.”
“Whoozat?”
“Egon Pentkovsky.”
“Where did you tell him I am?”
“Out of the country, no more.”
“Put him through.” There was a click.
“Mr. Barrington?”
“Yes, Mr. Pentkovsky, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I understand you’re out of the country?”
“Yes.”
“Where, may I ask?”
“On the move.”
“Forgive me, if I intrude. Can you tell me when you’ll be back?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“I have some rather urgent business I’d like to discuss with you—quite legitimate business.”
“Mr. Pentkovsky, I think that, given my past interactions with your family, it would be inappropriate for me to represent you, your relatives, or your businesses.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Life is full of disappointments.”
“My associate will be very disappointed.”
“Please express my condolences and tell him to get over it.”
Egon chuckled. “I’m afraid my associate will not share your sense of humor. In fact, he doesn’t really have a sense of humor—not in English, anyway. The business I wish to discuss would be conducted directly with me and not with Serge. I have a sense of humor.”
“I’m happy for you, Mr. Pentkovsky, but my previous statement fully expresses my reluctance to involve myself with any of your family, even your own charming self.”
Pentkovsky laughed again. “You see?”
“Please excuse me, Mr. Pentkovsky, but you’re standing between me and a glass of bourbon whiskey. I wish you a good day and a happy life.” Stone hung up.
“Was that the Greek?” Rocky asked.
“That was Pentkovsky, the youngest.”
“And he wanted you to represent him?”
“I think not. I think what he wants is my presence next to him, in a place where a sniper couldn’t miss.”
46
Ed drove past the Barrington house, then down the driveway to the local yacht club, along the shore, and back to the road. Not until then did he turn into Stone’s driveway. As he did, a garage door opened, and Ed drove into it and secured the car, as the door slid shut behind him.
“I take it we’re here,” Sally said.
“We are. Before we go, let me tell you about this house.”
“I take it I won’t read about it in Country Life or Town & Country.”
“You will not. Stone had a cousin named Richard Stone—Dick.”
“I believe I knew him. He was the CIA station chief in London, was he not?”
“You are correct. He was in line for director of operations, one notch away from director, when he built this house on Stone family land. Because of his importance to the Agency, the house was given what they liked to call ‘the D treatment,’ which is sort of a building code for secure structures. That means that the house, instead of being sheathed in plywood, before the shingles went on, was instead encased in half-inch steel plate; the roof, too. The windows are all triple-plate armored glass and the doors all of steel, lined with Kevlar fabric. The result is a building that could be penetrated only by the sort of ammo used in anti-tank weapons, which is not generally available in this state. Dick passed away—not on Agency business, a family affair—and Stone inherited the house.”
“It sounds very cozy,” Sally replied. “And reassuring.”
“I’m glad you feel that way. Let’s go inside.”
They entered the house through a door to the entry gallery, where they were greeted by everyone.
“You folks appear to be a drink ahead of us,” Ed said. “We’d like to catch up, if we may.”
Stone did the honors and handed Ed his usual single malt Scotch and Sally one of his matchless vodka gimlets. “I’ve had contact with Pentkovsky,” Stone said.
Ed gulped his first sip. “What sort of contact?”
“Relax, it was telephonic; Joan transferred the call and told him I was out of the country.”
“Good move. What the fuck did he want?”
“I hope you didn’t bite.”
“I chewed and spat,” Stone replied.
“How did young Egon take the news?”
“Pretty well, I think. Unlike Gromyko, he has a sense of humor, or so he told me.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you and I would find him funny.”
“Probably not, but he does have charm.”
“I wonder how many men young Egon has killed,” Ed said.
“I don’t know. What’s your best guess?”
“A dozen or two,” Rawls replied. “After all, he’s young.”
“You think we can expect a visit from them here?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Ed said. “But me, rather than you. I’m ready for that. I don’t know if they even know about your place.”
“Well, if they do, they’ll give us a little time to start feeling comfortable and letting our guard down.”
“But we won’t do that, will we?” Ed asked.
“Nope, we won’t.”
“I’ve told Sally about the construction qualities of your house.”
“I was very impressed,” Sally said. “I feel very comfortable here.”
“And welcome, too,” Stone said.
“Of course.”
* * *
—
They all sat down before the fire and made their drinks go away, then Stone replaced them with fresh ones.
“You know,” Ed said, “it doesn’t seem the same without Lance.”
They all laughed.
“That may have been funny,” Ed said, “but it wasn’t intended that way. Where Lance goes is quickly followed by very good security.”
“Don’t worry,” Viv said. “A few of our people are out there somewhere.”
Rocky spoke up. “Stone, did you hear helicopter rotors?”
“I did not. I think you’re thinking too much about Lance.”
The phone rang in the kitchen; someone answered it, said a few words, then hung up. Mary Hotchkiss, wife of Seth, the caretaker, came out of the dining room and put some more plates on the table.
“Uh-oh,” Stone said.
“It couldn’t be,” Rocky replied.
Another few minutes passed before the doorbell rang. Stone stood up, and Ed with him. “Just a minute,” he said.
“What?”
“That may not be Lance at the door.”
People started moving about, producing weapons, and taking up defensive positions.
Stone whipped out his iPhone and pressed the security camera icon. “It’s Lance,” he said, putting the phone away. “Resume your former positions, while I let him in.” He walked to the door, checked the peephole, and opened the door.
“Good evening, Stone,” Lance said.
“Why, Lance, you are very nearly late for dinner. Please come in.”
“No need to tell Mary I’m here,” Lance said. “She knows.”
Stone went to the bar and poured him a Scotch. “Have you come all this way, at government expense, just to satisfy your yen for Maine lobster?”
“Well, it is the best in the world, followed closely by that of Ireland.”
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had lobster in Ireland,” Stone said, handing him his drink.
“That’s because the French buy it all up before it can reach the restaurants,” Lance replied. “On their menus they say it’s from Brittany or Normandy.”
“Deceitful of them,” Stone commented. They sat down. “All right,” he said to Lance, “tell us why you’ve come.”
“Let me put it this way,” Lance said. “I didn’t come alone.”
47
Stone heard the sound of another helicopter in the distance. “Don’t worry,” Lance said, “it’s ours.”
“And why did you think it was necessary?” Stone asked.
“Somebody out there, on his belly in the grass, spotted a truck coming from the direction of Searsport.”
“Surely they wouldn’t try that again,” Stone said. “Not after the last result.”
“They would,” Lance replied, “only this time the name on the side is different, and it’s an electrician’s truck, from a company with no listing in the local phone book.”
“We have a perfectly good electrician living on the island,” Stone said.
“Of course you do.”
“I take it you’re going to tell us when we should scramble.”
“Certainly,” Lance replied, glancing at his watch. “The next ferry doesn’t arrive for another fifty minutes.”
“Dinner is served,” Mary called from the kitchen door.
“I guess we have time for dinner, before the electrician’s van arrives,” Stone said.
“My people are here to be sure that it doesn’t arrive,” Lance said, “and I don’t think we’ll hear from them until we’re drinking port. They’ll need time to conduct an interrogation.”
“I’d rather not think about that while dining,” Stone said, rising. “Shall we heed the call?”
* * *
—
They had finished the port and Stilton and were gathered around the fire, on brandy, before Lance’s phone rang. He stepped into the entry hall to take it, then came back, looking puzzled.
“What is it?” Stone asked.
“The interrogation has been completed,” he said.
“With what result?”
“With the result that the two men inside—father and son, as it turns out—are electricians, and from Rockland, not Searsport. Their family has taken a rental house on the island for the season, and they were on their way home from a job in Lincolnville. All this has been corroborated.”
“Well, Lance,” Stone said, “I don’t know how you’re going to explain this to your bean counters back at Langley.”
“Neither do I,” Lance said. “Would it be inconvenient for me to have a bed for the night?”
“Not in the least. You may have the guest house—both of them if you’d like to sleep surrounded by an armed guard.”
“I would prefer that,” Lance said, checking his watch. “I should go to bed now, so as to be fresh for the morning flight home.”
“Good night, then,” Stone said.
“Please don’t get up,” Lance said to all. “Sleep well.” He left through the kitchen.
“Well,” Ed said, “that was disappointing. I thought there would be fireworks.”
“I’m not disappointed,” Dino said. “And I like the idea of sleeping while surrounded by heavily armed guards.”
* * *
—
Shortly after Lance’s retiring, Ed felt the need for his bed. Stone walked him out of the living room. “How do you want to handle this?” he asked.
Ed told him, then got Sally into the Jeep. “Please put your head in my lap, m’dear.”
“Why, Ed, can’t you wait until we’re in bed?” she asked.
“Purely for protecting you,” Ed said. “Please don’t lift your head, especially to look outside the Jeep, until I tell you we’re clear.”
“As you wish,” she said, rearranging herself so that she could rest her head in his lap.
The garage lights went off, and the door slid softly up. Ed started the engine and flipped a switch he had installed that turned off the dashboard and brake lights. He reversed quickly out of the garage, then turned down the road toward home and shot forward. Then there was a crash.
“What was that?” Sally asked, gripping his thigh tightly.
“That was me turning too soon in the dark and taking out Stone’s mailbox,” Ed replied, accelerating. “I may have attracted attention. Do you mind keeping your head down until we’re home?”
“I’m getting u
sed to it,” she replied. “I may doze off, if you don’t hit any more mailboxes.”
“You do that.” Ed pulled over to the side of the road, under some large trees and switched on his iPad. “The coast is clear, as one adulterer said to another on the phone.” He turned into his driveway, and the log gate was fully open by the time he got here. The motion-sensitive floodlights around the house and the dock came on for ten seconds, then went out. Ed used his remote to open the garage door and drove inside. Only when the door had firmly closed did he switch on the lights.
“Are we there yet?” Sally asked.
“We are there, but I’m enjoying your head in my lap.”
“To be continued,” she said, and they got out of the Jeep and went inside.
* * *
—
At Stone’s house they all went upstairs to their rooms, and Stone took a checklist from a bedside drawer and went through it, turning off various lights with his iPhone. Finally, they were left with only the bedside lamps burning.
“What was that crash I heard outside right after Ed and Sally left?” Rocky asked.
“I think it was the sound of Ed’s Jeep taking out my mailbox,” Stone replied.
Rocky laughed. “Is he that bad a driver?”
“There are no exterior lights on the island, except on peoples’ front porches, and those are mostly out by this time of night. Ed was driving without his headlights, and I don’t think there’s much of a moon; too cloudy.”
“I’m glad he didn’t meet someone going the other way, also without headlights.”
“So am I,” Stone said. “That would have been a much noisier crash.”
They stripped and got into bed.
“I’m impressed with how cool you all are, under the circumstances,” Rocky said.
“Worrying is a waste of energy,” Stone said. “I’d rather save it for you.”
From somewhere in the distance came what sounded like a single shot from a hunting rifle.