Hit List (Stone Barrington #53)(34)
“Why wouldn’t it stop a bullet from one of those?”
“Muzzle velocity,” Stone said. “They use longer bullets that hold more gunpowder. Only a big, thick combat vest would stop that kind of round. Is this the kind of after-sex talk you’re accustomed to?”
“No, but I have a curious nature. I never miss an opportunity to pick up a little information.”
“Are you considering buying a bulletproof vest?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Should I?”
“No. I like as little as possible between your breasts and me.”
“So, a bulletproof vest would make me Stone-proof?”
“No, it would just take me longer to get at you.”
“Let’s go upstairs,” she said. “And perhaps you should bring the shotgun.”
Stone retrieved the weapon and the ammo, and they repaired to the master suite.
“Are your batteries recharged?” she asked, taking off her clothes.
“Gee, I don’t know,” he replied. “Let’s find out.”
* * *
—
He was sound asleep when she poked him in the ribs. “Mmmmf,” he replied.
She poked him again.
“What?”
“I heard a noise,” she said. “Outside the door, I think.”
“What kind of noise?” he whispered.
“Like breaking and entering.”
He picked up the shotgun, and it felt light; it occurred to him that he had not loaded it. He opened the box of shells and shoved a handful into the weapon, but he didn’t rack the slide. “Go into your bathroom and sit in the tub,” he said. “Don’t turn on any lights.” She got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He went to the door and put his ear against it. Nothing. He racked the slide, as a warning to whoever might be on the other side of the door, then he slowly turned the knob and flung open the door, shotgun at the ready, safety off.
There was a night-light at the end of the hallway, and it cast an eerie glow. Stone waited a few seconds, then walked down the hallway, opening the door to two guest rooms and checking them out. Finally, he went back to the bedroom.
“It’s okay, you can come out,” he called to Vanessa.
She came out of the bathroom. “Why did you tell me to get into the tub?”
“Because it’s made of cast iron, and it might stop a bullet.”
Then he heard the noise.
“That’s it!” she whispered. “That’s the noise!”
Stone let out the breath he had been holding and walked to a cupboard on one side of the room. He opened a lower door. “Ice maker,” he said. “It replicates the sound of breaking and entering.”
She took the shotgun from him and leaned it against the wall. “Well,” she said, “we’re wide awake now. What can we do to get sleepy again?”
Stone did his duty as he saw it.
* * *
—
His phone rang earlier than it should have. It was Dino.
“Woke you up, didn’t I?” Dino asked unapologetically.
“Not quite,” Stone replied. “Why?”
“Last night, a woman named Sheila Barton—”
“She’s on the hit list.”
“I know that; can I tell you what happened?”
“Please do.”
“She left her office at six last evening and got into the black car she takes home every night.”
“Where does she work?”
“At a security service—not Strategic Services. Smaller.”
“And what happened?”
“They had traveled a few blocks, when the car stopped at a traffic light, and a motorcycle carrying two men pulled alongside. The rider rapped on her side rear window with a knuckle, and the second she saw him she hit the deck and started screaming at her driver to get out of there. He acted quickly, ran the light, and the motorcycle followed and got hit by a cab in the cross traffic. The two riders got up and ran, one of them limping, and they were seen to be getting into gray a van and driving away fast.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“No, both she and her driver were unscratched. The limper from the motorcycle probably had a minor injury.”
“That’s good news.”
“Today’s warning is, watch out for gray vans.” Dino hung up.
28
Stone called Dino back.
“Bacchetti.”
“What part did your cops play in this incident? They were protecting her, right?”
“After the first few days, she called us and asked us to remove our people, said she felt safe enough.”
“Any change in her attitude?”
“We’ve got two cops on her now.”
“Except for me, this is the first time somebody on the list has eluded them, right?”
“Right.”
“Maybe it’s time to get more aggressive,” Stone said.
“Yeah? How do we do that? Shoot first and think about it later?”
“Do this: assign unmarked police cars to drive these people to and from work, and put one cop, besides the driver, in the car with them. Have the guy carry a shotgun, which is more likely to hit the target than a handgun and does less collateral damage, if you’re lucky. You can also load them with bird shot instead of buckshot; that will still do a lot of damage at close range while cutting down on the collateral damage. Also, three of those on the list are already dead and don’t require further attention from you.”