Shoot First(Stone Barrington #45)(72)

Stone thanked them all, then he and Meg went upstairs and undressed, and she climbed into the shower with him, soaping his body and scrubbing him with a rough mitt, then he did the same for her. They toweled each other off and fell into bed.



* * *



—

HALF AN HOUR later, the phone buzzed. “Yes?”

“Mr. Barrington, it’s Atkins. We had a call from the fire inspector, and he confirms arson, using some sort of tar-like substance as an accelerant. They’re looking for Owaki.”

“Tell them to try the home secretary’s office in Whitehall,” Stone replied. “I believe Owaki may be having a chat with that gentleman.”

“Excuse me, sir, but how would you know that?”

“Like you, Carl, I have my intelligence sources.”

“Of course, sir.”

Stone hung up and called Dino.

“Bacchetti.”

“It’s Stone. Owaki set fire to my house earlier this afternoon.”

“Did the bobbies catch the bastard?”

“He already had a date with the home secretary, set up by Felicity. My guess is he is, or will be soon, on his Gulfstream, winging his way west. Is there some opportunity for an international warrant?”

“I can look into that, but the evidence would have to be very strong for them to get an extradition warrant from the U.S.”

“Oh, the hell with it,” Stone said. “It will probably be easier to charge him with something in the States. That way he can be denied bail and will have to sit out the wait for trial in jail.”

“That sounds just wonderful,” Dino said. “Do you have a charge on the tip of your tongue?”

“Ah, not yet. Maybe they’ll find something actionable on his airplane, when it gets to Teterboro.”

“I’ll give customs a call and ask them to be particularly thorough. I suppose I should give the U.S. attorney a heads-up, too, just in case.”

“It couldn’t hurt,” Stone said. “Hang on.” He covered the phone and turned to Meg. “Home tomorrow okay with you?”

“Yes. I had a call from Margo, and my board meeting is now on the day after and the closing the day after that, if they don’t hate me on sight.”

Stone turned back to the phone. “We’ll fly tomorrow. Why don’t you and Viv come to dinner at my house, if she’s back from wherever she is.”

“She will be,” Dino said. “Call me when you get in.”

They both hung up.

“It seems we have an hour to spare before we have to dress for dinner,” Stone said. “Is there something you’d like to do?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied.





55




Carl Atkins called. “We have intruders on the estate,” he said. “I have a party out searching for them now.”

“Carl,” Stone said, “please send somebody down to the airstrip and make sure the airplane is safe and fully fueled. Take the fuel caps off and look inside—they should be full right up to the top.”

Atkins got on his radio and gave orders. Five minutes later he got a call back. “The airplane is secure and already fully fueled,” he said, “and I’ve posted two men to guard it. Are you leaving immediately?”

“No, but we’ll go at dawn tomorrow. We’ll be there before first light to do a preflight and get the airplane positioned at the end of the runway.”

“And what will be your destination?”

“Santa Maria in the Azores. We’ll refuel there, then fly to St. John’s, in Newfoundland, refuel, then to Teterboro. We’ll be there late afternoon, eastern time.”

“Got it. Everything will be ready before sunup.”

Stone explained the plan to Meg.

“How far is it to the Azores?” she asked.

“Fifteen hundred nautical miles,” he replied.

“Do we have that much range? It will be upwind, won’t it?”

“We can always divert to Lisbon halfway if the range doesn’t work. It will depend on the winds. I have at least two thousand miles of range, maybe considerably more, because of new winglets I had installed a couple of months ago.”

“Okay, whatever you say.”



* * *



—

THEY HAD a candlelit dinner in the library then packed and got to bed early. They were up at four AM and at the airstrip half an hour later. They stowed the luggage, then Stone did his preflight inspection by flashlight; they got aboard and were towed to the end of the runway, where Stone completed his checklists, then started the engines. As the first rays of the sun showed, he pushed the throttles forward and they began to roll down the runway.

Halfway down the strip, Stone saw some sort of commotion near the hangar, and there was the flash of gunfire. He gulped and kept rolling, his reasoning being that if he stopped, the airplane would surely be fired on, but if they took off he had a better chance of making it unscathed. If the airplane was hit and failed to pressurize, they could fly to Southampton, a short distance away, and land there.

Stone eased back on the yoke, and the nosewheel left the ground, followed shortly by the main landing gear. He flew southeast, checking the cabin pressure gauge until they were at ten thousand feet, along the way calling air traffic control for a clearance. They were cleared to flight level 400 and turned on course. Twenty minutes later, Stone leveled off, set the throttles for cruise, and let the airspeed climb. When they were at 400 knots, he checked the range ring, which showed they would reach Santa Maria with a 150-mile reserve of fuel.