Wild Card (Stone Barrington #49)(29)

Bob drove slowly down the street and didn’t turn on his lights until he reached the corner and turned uptown. He looked back and saw the van stopped in the street, as the two men checked out the tires. “They won’t be giving chase,” he said.

“Listen,” Sherry said, “as long as I’m in your lap . . .”



* * *



? ? ?

Bob had expected that the two men would have made a call for help, but he appeared to be clean when they arrived at Turtle Bay. “They weren’t ready for that,” he said.

Sherry sat up and looked around. “Are we home?”

“We are.”

“Then let’s go to bed.”

“First, the luggage,” he replied.



* * *



? ? ?

    They passed Stone’s study and found their three companions having a nightcap.

“Have you been out?” Stone asked.

“We picked up some things at Sherry’s apartment and my house.”

“Was the trip uneventful?”

“Not entirely,” Bob replied, then told him about his encounter with the van.

“We had something like that rifle at the Agency,” Rawls said. “This guy named Teddy Fay worked in operations, and he invented things like that.”

“I didn’t invent this one,” Bob said, “but I modified it a little, and I make my own darts—some that will penetrate a tire and some that are small and light enough to penetrate a neck to deliver a dose of a drug. As it was, we left them in the street with two flat tires, and we got back here before they could raise the alarm.”

“No one saw you enter the garage?” Stone asked.

“No one.”

“Would they have seen the license plate?”

“I disabled the plate light as soon as I rented the car. We’re clean.”

“That’s good,” Stone said, “but it bothers me that they’re still looking for us.”

“Not us, me,” Bob replied. “They blame me for the bomb and for, ah, changing Rance Damien’s appearance.”

“He’s suing the rest of us,” Stone said, “and until you get a subpoena, assume that they still have other plans for you.”

“At some point,” Bob said, “I’m going to have to . . .” He stopped, deciding that it was better not to go on.

Stone nodded but said nothing.

“Well,” Rawls said, “I don’t think anybody is looking for me. Is there anything I can do for anybody in the outside world?”

“I think you’re okay on the street, Ed,” Stone said, “but don’t assume they don’t know you. They’ve had a look at you a couple of times.”

“I guess you’re right about that,” Rawls replied. “I’ll just assume I’m being tailed and take pleasure in losing them.”





23


Rance Damien checked out of the clinic late in the afternoon, went home, and got drunk on pain pills and scotch. The following morning he went into the office for a scheduled meeting with Henry and Hank Thomas. He found Hank alone in Henry’s office.

“You’re looking better, Rance,” Hank said. “The old man is not feeling well today. He couldn’t make our meeting.”

Damien took this as a possible transition. From here on, he’d have to suck up a bit more to Hank, who, lately, had seemed a little inflated from his flirtation with the presidency. Damien had the feeling that Hank would be trying again in four or eight years, and that he might do some house cleaning with that in mind. He was going to have to become more essential than ever around here, he thought.

“Rance,” Hank said, “I’ve been reassessing the organization, and I’ve come to the same conclusion that Dad and Granddad did: you’re the most capable man on the premises.”

Damien had not been expecting flattery, and he tried to put it out of his mind. “Thank you, Hank.”

“How many more operations?”

“Two or three. My doctor is very pleased with my progress.”

“Well, you won’t be appearing at any board meetings until your, ah, condition has cleared up. It’s been my observation that rich, powerful men are suspicious of people with physical disabilities or even scars. Just shows you how stupid they can be. Still, the next time they see you, I want it to be when you’re fully recovered.”

“I understand, Hank,” Damien said, though it infuriated him. After all, he had received his injuries in the service of those men.

“What are our chances of rebuilding the software we lost in the fire?”

“Nil,” Damien said, “and it would be pointless to try. We were able to succeed before only because we had bribed a man in their management for the information we needed. Now, as a result of our first attempt, they are rewriting all their code.”

“Can’t we bribe someone else there?”

“The best thing is to wait until they’ve perfected the new code, then buy a copy of it from someone there.”

“How long?”

“Perhaps two years.” Damien didn’t know that, but he didn’t want Hank on his back all the time about trying their scam again.