40

They took off from the Windward strip and made Santa Maria, Azores, in four hours. Stone spotted a man wearing an orange slicker and holding up two lighted plastic sticks and aimed for him. He shut down the engines and switched off power, while Gala got the cabin door open. Bob bounded down the stairs as if the lineman was an old friend to be greeted.

Another man in a leather jacket and a fedora stepped up. “Mr. Barrington? My name’s Fernando. I’m a friend of Mike Freeman. Let’s grab your bags and get moving.”

They did so and got into an elderly Land Rover. “There’ll be a man guarding your airplane all night, and you’ll be ready to taxi at seven AM.”

“Are you expecting any opposition?” Stone asked.

“Let’s just say we’ll be ready for it.”

He drove them inland to a stone cottage on a hill. It was well-furnished and comfortable. “My wife is in the kitchen preparing dinner,” Fernando said.

They dined on local fish and fresh vegetables, with a bottle of Pico Branca served as well. By nine o’clock they were asleep.

—

They were wakened at five-thirty and told that breakfast would be ready in half an hour. After a quick shower, they sat down to omelets, orange juice, and strong coffee. At the airport, Stone signed for the fuel, looked over the forecast, and checked his fuel. Half an hour later they rotated and lifted off, headed northwest. Two hours later, Stone was startled by the ringing of his satphone.

“Hello?”

“It’s Mike. Everything okay?”

“So far.”

“I don’t like the look of things at St. John’s,” he said. “We’re diverting you to Gander.” Gander was an old military base on the north of the island, half an hour from St. John’s.

“What’s going on at St. John’s?”

“Unidentified people and vehicles on the ground. At Gander, stay in the airplane. You’ll get a quick turnaround, and the fuel will be billed to us, later to you. At Teterboro, you’ll taxi straight to the hangar. Stay aboard while you’re towed in. Your car and driver will be inside.”

“Whatever you say.”

Stone called air traffic control on his high-frequency radio and was cleared Direct Gander. Skies were still sunny at Gander, with its one, very long runway. A fuel truck was waiting. When the tanks were full, the fueler secured the caps and whirled a finger in the air for startup. Stone started the engines and got an immediate clearance to Teterboro from the tower. They were the only thing moving on the field, and five minutes later they were in the air.

—

At Teterboro, Stone followed Mike’s instructions. Immediately after shutdown, the tractor towed them into the hangar, and the big door closed behind them. Bob went nuts when he saw Fred Flicker, who was waiting for them with all doors open. Luggage was loaded, Bob was emptied, and they were off for Manhattan. Once home, Fred drove into the garage, and they unloaded after the door was closed.

The sun was still up when they fell into bed.

—

The following morning Joan called while they were having breakfast in bed.

“How’s the jet lag?” she asked.

“So far, so good.”

“We had a visit from the phone company yesterday,” she said. “Guy with a foreign accent said he needed to get into our main box to fix a problem in the neighborhood.”

“How did you react to that?”

“I put my hand in my desk drawer and told him to bring me an authorization from his supervisor. We didn’t see him again. I had Bob Cantor check out everything, and we’re okay. How long are you staying?”

Stone thought about it. “We’re leaving in an hour,” he said, and hung up. “That okay with you?” he asked Gala, and she nodded. It was okay with Bob, too.

—

At ten AM they lifted off for Santa Fe, and soon they were at flight level 400 and headed direct to their destination. It was a longer flight than Stone would have wished, with a big headwind, but they had the fuel for a nonstop flight, and with the two-hour favorable time change, they were landing in Santa Fe by early afternoon.

“Oh, my beautiful house!” Gala cried, looking around the immaculate place. “Marlene has cleaned so beautifully!”

Bob ran aimlessly around until he had located his dish, then demanded food and drink. Happily full, he went to his bed and fell sound asleep.

“Oh, I’m so happy to be home,” Gala groaned as she settled into bed. “Not that I wasn’t happy in England. It was the change I needed. I’m going to finish my screenplay in a couple of days, and then I can relax.”

“Great,” Stone said. She fell asleep immediately, but he could not relax until he and Bob had patrolled the perimeter of the property and made sure all the doors and windows were secured and the alarm turned on.

Stone read for a while, but it was nearly two AM before his mind relaxed enough for sleep.

Bob was way ahead of him.

—

Stone was awakened by a low growl from Bob, which quickly became a series of loud barks.

Gala stirred. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, go back to sleep.” He found Gala’s pistol in the night table drawer, slipped on a robe and slippers, and let Bob lead the way. The dog trotted to the kitchen and stood by the back door. Stone put him on a leash and held it in his left hand, the pistol ready in the other. As soon as the door was open Bob practically dragged him outside and along the rear of the house. Then he stopped and sniffed the ground. There was enough light for Stone to see a large pile of animal scat, which Bob found fascinating.

They continued around the whole perimeter of the house and returned to the kitchen door from which they had gone out.

They went into the kitchen, where Stone gave Bob his breakfast, then poured a glass of orange juice for himself. He drank it at the kitchen table and let his heartbeat return to normal.

Finally, as dawn broke, Stone went back to bed and tried to get in another hour of sleep before Gala woke up. He managed half that before she turned up with scrambled eggs and bacon and set them on his belly.

“How did you sleep?” she asked.

“Got to sleep late, woke early, then got a few minutes more. I’m tired.”

She took his tray away. “You go back to sleep,” she said.