Turbulence (Stone Barrington #46)(29)
“Where’s the check?” Lance suddenly demanded.
“What check?” Stone asked blithely.
“The one that was to be exchanged for the location, of course.”
“I’m very much afraid that the man with the silver tray containing the check never turned up.”
“That’s not how it was supposed to go,” Lance said, outraged.
“I think it’s safe to say that nothing went as it was supposed to go,” Felicity contributed.
“You have a point,” Lance said. “Kelly, how did you come to be in possession of the shell’s location?”
“I followed Chaka into the loo. I took her bag and hit her with a fire extinguisher. The envelope with the coordinates was in her bag. I searched for the one with the check, but to no avail.”
“Then Owaki must have somehow got his hands on it.”
“By the way,” Stone interjected, “does anybody have the faintest idea what became of Mr. Owaki?”
His question was answered with silence.
“I mean,” Stone said, “when I heard the gunfire, a pitcher of water exploded near me, and I turned to look at it. Then, when I looked around, Owaki had disappeared, and I couldn’t locate him anywhere in the restaurant.”
“He must have had an exit prepared that we didn’t know about. A waiter was, apparently, in Owaki’s employ and somehow smuggled a weapon inside, and the shot came from him. People are searching the restaurant now.”
“Well,” Stone said, “if he’s on the run, he’s going to be very hard to find.”
Kelly turned to Lance. “Who might the buyer be?” she asked.
“I suspect someone of the Middle Eastern persuasion,” Lance replied. “Certainly, ISIS or Al Qaeda could come up with the cash.”
“Do we know how much cash?” Stone asked.
“No. We were unable to penetrate the bank in the time available to us.”
“Is it too late to do so now?”
“I’m afraid that horse has already left the barn,” Lance said.
Somebody’s cell phone rang, and Felicity unearthed hers from her handbag. “Yes?” She listened for a moment, then hung up. “Our people have reached Red Hill, and the search for the warhead has begun.”
* * *
—
TIME PASSED, and an empty brandy bottle was exchanged for a full one. Felicity’s cell phone rang again. “Yes?” She listened again. “Shit!” she cried and punched out of the call.
“I take it your people did not locate the shell at Red Hill,” Stone said.
“They searched everywhere. I’m afraid they damaged a couple of the vintage aircraft in the process. They will be expensive to restore.”
“Wish we could help,” Lance said, “but times is hard.”
“I thought you’d say something like that, Lance,” Felicity said.
“Now, now, Felicity, you know I’d help if I could.”
“Do I?”
“Children!” Stone said. “What’s next?”
Felicity shook her head. Lance finally spoke up, “I’m afraid our planning included locating and taking charge of the shell, but did not go beyond that event.”
“Then may I suggest,” Stone said, “that you two retire to wherever your beds are so that you can greet the morrow with clear heads? It’s half past two.”
Felicity and Lance gathered themselves and their rainwear and trudged out into the wet night.
“Now,” Stone said to Kelly. “You were saying that you need my help?”
“Let me explain,” she said.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Stone replied.
23
STONE POURED THEM each another brandy. “Speak to me,” he said to Kelly. “What do you need, while I’m still conscious?”
“I need you to help me get to Zurich,” she said, “without being detected.”
“There’s an excellent railway system in Europe,” Stone replied, “and it’s fairly anonymous.”
“Both Lance and Felicity have watchers at the train stations and airports.”
“Why do you want to go to Zurich?” he asked.
“Because it’s where the Swiss banks are.”
“Ah, I think I’m getting the picture. Let me disabuse you of the notion of avoiding U.S. income taxes by banking your check in Switzerland. The Internal Revenue Service has rendered the Swiss banking system pretty much impotent where it comes to hiding the cash of wealthy U.S. citizens. Numbered accounts for Americans are no longer available. You wouldn’t avoid the IRS for long, and when they find your money they’ll take a lot more than what you would owe in taxes.”
“Of course,” Kelly said, “but their reach is limited to U.S. citizens; it doesn’t extend to Swiss citizens, who can hide as much cash as they can get their hands on.”
“Do you have a Swiss citizen who will collude in this project?”
“I am a Swiss citizen,” Kelly said.
“Eh?”
“Do you remember that I told you that my father was an airline pilot?”