17.

TEDDY WATCHED OUT the back window as Fred Flicker drove him out of Stone Barrington’s garage. A gray Lexus pulled away from the curb and fell in behind them.

“Fred, we’re being followed. Can you take care of that?”

“Do you care if he knows that we’re doing it?”

“I’d prefer that he didn’t, but sometimes it can’t be helped.”

“It usually can,” Fred said. He squeezed by a bus, hit the corner, and swung a left turn just as the light was changing, leaving the other car trapped in a snarl of traffic.

“Nicely done,” Teddy said. “Now I can get a new cell phone. Drop me at the shop and cruise around until I call you on it.”

Fred dropped Teddy off and sped away, just in case the man he ditched was looking for his car.

The clerk in the cell phone store was confused.

“You want to upgrade your system?”

“No, I just want another phone.”

“But this phone works.”

“Yes, it does. I want to transfer the data on it to another phone. Can you do that?”

“Of course, I can. But to what phone?”

“The one I buy.”

“What kind of phone do you want to buy?”

“One that does the same thing this does.”

“You want to buy the same phone?”

“If you’ve got it.”

“We have a newer version. Your phone is quite old.”

“The newer version would work the same way this one does?”

“More or less.”

“What’s the less?”

“It would have more features.”

“Would it have these features?”

“Yes, among others.”

“Fine. I’ll take it.”

“So, you want an upgrade.”

Teddy sighed. “You win. I want an upgrade. Can you do it?”

“Of course.”

“Fine. Transfer the data. Except for the number.”

“Sir?”

“I want a new phone number.”

“You know there are serious drawbacks to having a new number.”

“Such as?”

“People won’t be able to call you.”

Teddy smiled. “I certainly hope not.”


JORAM HATED TO be the bearer of bad news. He had a wife and two small children. All he cared about was keeping his head down. Then he wound up in Fahd’s office, monitoring important calls.

“Now the other phone’s dead,” Joram said. He sounded like he was apologizing.

“Billy Barnett?”

“Yes.”

“They’re both dead?”

“Yes.”

“But they could be activated again?”

“It’s possible.”

“Fine. Then you’re done for the time being. You can go back to your post in the other room.”

Joram struggled to keep the relief from showing on his face. “Yes, sir.”

Fahd stopped him. “But first, whose lines have you been monitoring?”

“Lance Cabot and Billy Barnett.”

Fahd grimaced. “I’m afraid your memory is faulty. Whose lines are these again?”

Joram looked terrified. He gawked at Fahd stupidly, trying to divine the right answer. “I don’t remember?”

Fahd smiled. “Yes, I didn’t think you did. Good man. So you won’t be mentioning any names to anyone. Am I right?”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely,” Joram said.

It took all he could do not to run out of the room.