by Stuart Woods
Attached to one side of the building was an elevator cage to get the workers up and down in a hurry. That would do for access, he thought, but not for escape. He broke off his walk to the UN and crossed the street. Two men were conferring on the sidewalk over a set of plans, one of them obviously the construction foreman, in his work clothes and yellow hard hat, the other in a business suit and topcoat but also wearing a hard hat. Building owner? Architect? As he passed them Teddy got a good look at a plastic ID badge clipped to his topcoat collar. It identified him as a New York City building inspector.
“You’ve got a couple of soft spots in the second-story temporary flooring,” he was saying, “and I want them beefed up today.” Teddy couldn’t hear the response, but he didn’t need to. He was concentrating on remembering as much detail as possible of the ID badge the man was wearing. Then he saw something that immediately appealed to him. On the west side of the building, the side opposite the elevator, there was another way out. He liked that a lot.
KERRY SMITH came into Lance’s office. “Any luck?” he asked Lance and Holly.
“No,” Lance said, “not our man. Good practice for the team, though; keeps them occupied.”
“Keeping them occupied is getting harder,” Kerry said. “I’m getting tired of writing reports that say, in essence, ‘Nothing happened today,’ and I suspect that Washington is getting tired of reading them.”
“Okay, Holly,” Lance said, “just maintain your routine, keep going home every day at noon to walk Daisy, keep putting yourself out there for Teddy to see.”
“Okay,” Holly said, rising from her chair. “By the way, Lance, do you mind if I take two or three days off? My dad and his girlfriend are coming into town tomorrow.”
“Sure, we’ll try to struggle along without you.”
“You may as well pull the team off, too.”
“Okay. See you Monday.”
Holly left Lance’s office and went back to her own.
Kerry looked at Lance. “Are you really going to pull the team off?” he asked.
“No,” Lance replied.
FORTY-EIGHT
TEDDY GOT INTO THE CAR, carrying a briefcase, drove over to the West Side and headed north on the West Side Highway, which turned into the Henry Hudson Parkway, which turned into the Saw Mill River Parkway. Near the end he got off at the exit for Katonah and began driving around, looking for a very private spot.
After a few minutes he stopped on a small bridge. A stream passed under him, and on one bank he saw a well-worn footpath. Not likely anyone would be in the woods today, he thought. He pulled past the bridge onto the wide shoulder and got out of the car, carrying his briefcase. He half-walked, half-slid down the embankment to the footpath and began walking quickly upstream, away from the bridge. After a couple of minutes, there was a bend in the stream, and Teddy could no longer see the bridge.
It was cold and silent in the winter-stripped woods, and he walked for another quarter of a mile before he found a fork in the path, away from the stream. He stopped and spotted an oak tree with a knot in its trunk around eight inches in diameter on the other side of the stream. He estimated the distance to the tree to be twenty yards. He walked up the right fork in the path, pacing off another eighty yards, then stopped and looked around. He seemed completely alone in the woods, and the only sound he could hear was the rush of the stream. Looking back, he could see the oak tree with the knot clearly.
Teddy sat down on a large rock and, after checking both ways on the path for company, opened the briefcase and began assembling his new Walther PPK-S rifle. That done, he disassembled it and went through the process another three times, getting faster. After the third time, he was down to thirty-five seconds, and he reckoned that was about as fast as he would get.
Teddy knelt behind the rock and rested the barrel of the silenced rifle on it. He took careful aim at the knot in the oak tree, adjusting the zoom scope, then he squeezed off a round. The rifle was pleasingly silent, emitting only a whispery pfffttt! The bullet struck a foot below the knot and barely grazed the trunk on the right side. Part of that must be trigger pull, he thought. He fired one more round, and it stayed a foot low, but was only six inches right.
He adjusted the scope for elevation and turned the knurled knob two clicks to bring it into horizontal alignment. He fired another shot, and the bullet struck the tree at the bottom of the knot and a little left. He adjusted twice more, until he squeezed off a round that struck the knot dead center, then just to be sure, he fired two more rounds, both of which were nearly in the original bullet hole. That’s it, he thought. I’m sighted in for a hundred yards.
He got up, walked around a bit, then shoved in another magazine, stood and fired another six rounds from an un-braced standing position. He started wide but gradually brought his fire on target. The center of the knot was now a crater, and he was putting every round into it.
Satisfied, he quickly disassembled the rifle, packed it into the fitted briefcase and began walking back to the car. A few minutes later, he was back on the Saw Mill, heading south for the city, enjoying the drive.
THE PHONE RANG in Holly’s apartment.
“Hello?”
“It’s your old man.”
“You’re in already?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“How’s the Lowell?”
“Very nice; better than I’m used to. Can I buy you lunch?”
“No, but I’ll take you. Pick you up in fifteen minutes?”
“We’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Holly phoned La Goulue, a restaurant at 65th and Madison she passed every day while walking Daisy, and made a reservation. She walked Daisy, played with her for a bit, gave her a cookie and told her to be a good girl, then she went to meet Ham.
THE RESTAURANT was warm and cozy, and they were given a nice corner table. Ginny, Ham’s girlfriend, was a good-looking woman with bright red hair who had taught Holly to fly the year before, and this was her first time in New York.
They ordered, then Ham spoke up. “So, how’s the work going?”
“Not so hot,” Holly said.
“Can’t you find Teddy?”
Holly’s eyebrows went up.
“It wasn’t so hard to figure out,” Ham said. “There’ve been three or four murders around the UN the past few weeks, and I don’t believe the Agency is committing them. I always thought he might have gotten out of that airplane.”
“He did,” Holly said. “Ginny, you can’t hear this, and if you do, you have to keep it to yourself.”
“Don’t worry, Holly, my lips are sealed,” Ginny replied.
“She knows how to zip up,” Ham said. “Now, why haven’t you found this guy?”
“Because he’s very, very smart,” Holly said. “I figured he might be using the Lexington Avenue subway to get up- and downtown, so we staked it out and photographed every likely candidate, but I swear to God, I think he spotted me and got out of there, instead of onto the train.”
“You? Why would he know you?”
“Because I met him at the opera, and he invited me to use a spare ticket. He was beautifully disguised, though, and I never tumbled to him until I saw him later, ignoring what he said was a bad hip or knee or something and running like a jackrabbit for a cab.”
“Isn’t there some way to lure him out from his cover?” Ham asked.
“Maybe me. I think he lives in my neighborhood, so we’ve had a team following me, in case I see him.”
“That would explain the guy across the street who keeps changing places with a woman,” Ham said, nodding toward the window.
“Damn,” Holly said, looking out the window, “he’s one of ours, all right. I asked Lance to pull off the team while you’re here, but I guess he didn’t.”
“Why do you think Teddy would be interested in you?” Ham said.
“I don’t know that he would, but he’s obviously figured out that I’m Agency or Bureau, and he has the advantage of recogni
zing me when I can’t recognize him.”
Ham sat quietly for a moment.
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m trying to think of a way to make you better bait.”
“Thanks a lot, Ham. Should I go naked in the street?”
“That might do it, but you’d freeze to death in these temperatures.”
ACROSS THE RESTAURANT, Teddy sat with Irene. He was against the wall, while her back was to the room, so he could see Holly clearly. He was wearing his nose and mustache disguise, and Irene was good cover, too. They wouldn’t expect him to be with a woman.
“I’m nervous about being in a restaurant with you, Teddy,” Irene whispered.
“Just don’t use my name; call me Carl,” he whispered back.
“Who is it you’re looking at across the room?” she asked.
“One of yours,” he said. “Holly Barker.”
“She’s right here in the restaurant?”
“Yep. We followed her here.”
Irene sat up straight, so she could see the reflection of the room in the mirror behind their banquette. “Where?”
“She’s sitting next to a redhead, and there’s a man with them with his back to us. He looks ex-military to me; could be her father.”
“You’ve got more guts than is good for you,” Irene said.
“You’re probably right. Have you thought of retiring from the Agency?”
“I would, if I had something to do with myself,” she said.
“How much have you got in savings?”
“About three hundred thousand in stock accounts, and I’d have my pension, of course.”
“How’d you like to live in the islands?”
“Which islands?”
“Caribbean.”
“Now that would make an attractive alternative to working.”
“It’s about time for me to get out of here,” Teddy said. “I just want this one more good score, then I want to disappear for good. You want to disappear with me?”
She smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
“We’d have to do this carefully,” Teddy said.
“Tell me how, and I’ll do it.”
“I think St. Barts would be nice; I was there for a weekend about fifteen years ago, and I was impressed.”
“I’ve heard good things about it.”
“You retire, go down there and look for a house. Use your savings for a down payment; I’ll give you a bank name in the Caymans, and you’ll apply for a mortgage there. The payments will be made from my funds, and in time, when we’re sure they’re not interested in you anymore, I’ll replenish your savings. It’s important that the Agency can see that you’re doing this on your own hook, with no help.”
“That’s true. You’re sure this is what you want to do, uh, Carl?”
“I’m sure; how about you?”
“I’m in.”
“When you get back, go see Hugh English and tell him you want to retire in, say, a month. Tell him you’re thinking about a place in the sun somewhere and ask him for recommendations, then put your place on the market. Is it paid for?”
“Yes, and it’s probably worth three-fifty, three-seventy-five.”
“Good. With that, an Agency investigator would see that you can afford the place in the islands.”
“This is exciting,” she said, putting her hand on his.
“I’m looking forward to it,” Teddy replied. “I just want to tie up some loose ends here.” He looked across the room at Holly again. He would be sorry to say goodbye to her.
FORTY-NINE
IRENE FOSTER WALKED to the Barn’s front desk and asked for Lance Cabot. “Ma’am, may I see some ID?” the man at the desk asked.
She noted that, as he spoke, one hand went below the desktop. Security was pretty good here. It was her first visit to the Barn since it had opened, and she was looking forward to seeing the place. She handed him her Agency ID.
“Thank you, ma’am,” the man said, picking up a phone. “Ms. Irene Foster to see you, Mr. Cabot. Yes, sir.” He hung up the phone and turned back to Irene. “Please take the elevator to the twelfth floor; you’ll be met there.”
“Thank you.” Irene rode up in the elevator and was met by an attractive, fortyish woman.
“Ms. Foster? I’m Holly Barker,” the woman said. “Please come with me to Lance’s office.”
So this was the girl Teddy was so interested in, Irene thought, following her down the hallway. She was more attractive than she had imagined, and she felt a pang of jealousy.
Lance stood up to greet her as she came into his office. “Irene, it’s good to see you somewhere other than on a teleconference,” he said, shaking her hand. “You’ve met my assistant, Holly Barker?”
“Yes, but I didn’t even know you had an assistant,” Irene replied.
“I wanted to give her a chance at some supervisory work,” Lance said. “How’s Hugh English?”
“Oh, about the same, I think. He asked me to look in on you and see how things were going in the hunt for Teddy Fay.”
Lance sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t have much to report,” he said. “We keep trying new things, but so far, he’s been very slippery.”
“That’s not going to sound very good to Hugh, Lance, or to the director.”
“Irene, you can tell Hugh for me—and the director, too—that if anybody at Langley thinks they can do a better job up here, I’ll step aside in a flash. Quite frankly, I’m getting tired of being Langley’s cop, and as nice a guy as Kerry Smith is, I’m tired of having to deal with the FBI on everything I do.”
“Now, Lance,” Irene said placatingly, “everybody at Langley, including the director, knows how good you are, and we all know we don’t have anybody better. You just keep plugging away at this, and, eventually, you’ll get a break and capitalize on it.”
“I hope to God you’re right,” Lance said.
“I read your report on the extra surveillance you’re putting on likely targets; I think that’s a very good idea.”
“Well, we were a little late coming up with it,” Lance said. “You’ll recall we lost the first name on the list before we could act.”
“It happens,” she said. “Don’t be discouraged. By the way, you got my e-mail about Ali ben Saud, I hope.”
“Yes, but I don’t understand why we’ve had to pull surveillance on him. I should think he’d be a prime target for Teddy.”
“Things are pretty tense with the Saudis right now,” Irene said, “and Hugh felt it could hurt the political situation with them if ben Saud or his people made your people.”
“I understand,” Lance said. “Is this something the president has asked for?”
“No, it was Hugh’s decision, on his own authority.”
“How are Hugh and the director getting along these days?”
“As well as can be expected.”
“Is he ever going to retire?”
“Not until he has to.” She paused. “I’m thinking of putting in for it, myself, though.”
“Really? I thought you’d outlast Hugh.”
“Even if I did, I’d never get his job, and I’m a little weary, Lance. I think I’d like to live in a sunnier climate, bake my bones a bit.”
“Have you said anything to Hugh about this?”
“Not yet, but I’ve pretty much decided to go and see him on Monday morning.”
“You don’t want to see the Teddy Fay thing through?”
“Look, it’s just another operation; there’ve been hundreds before it, and there’ll be hundreds after it. Anyway, I feel helpless on this one. You’re at the pointed end of this effort; all I’m doing is shuffling papers.”
“Well, I’ll be sorry to see you go, Irene. Where’d you have in mind?”
“I don’t know, someplace in the islands, I guess. Have you spent any time down there?”
“Ten years ago I was acting station chief, working out of St. Thomas.”
“Did you
like it there?”
“It was all right; I liked the islands farther south—St. Kitts, St. Barts—better. Those were really nice.”
“I’ve read good things about St. Barts,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get on the Internet and have a closer look at it, check out the property prices.” This was working out well, getting a recommendation from Lance.
“What else can I do for you while you’re here?” Lance asked.
“I’d love to take a look at your facility,” Irene replied. “Could Holly show me around?”
“Sure.” He buzzed Holly and instructed her.
THEIR TOUR FINISHED, Holly escorted Irene back to the front lobby.
“Thank you so much, Holly,” Irene said, taking her hand. “It was very kind of you to take the time to show me the building.”
Holly shook her hand. “I was very pleased to do so.”
“By the way,” Irene said, “we hear good things about you from time to time. Keep up the good work.”
“I’ll do my best,” Holly said.
Irene went out into the cold streets, the jealousy burning in her breast. She needed to get Teddy out of New York fast. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t going to leave Holly Barker alone.
FIFTY
TEDDY WALKED SLOWLY DOWN Fifth Avenue, wearing what appeared to be a broken nose, a brown Vandyke beard and a reversible topcoat with the tweed side out. He wore a soft felt hat and carried a shopping bag with a few wrapped empty boxes peeking out, and he could still see Holly, who had obligingly worn a bright red woolen tam. The tall, thin man, whom Teddy had now identified as her father, Hamilton Barker, from his military records, was with her. He didn’t know, yet, who the redhead on his arm was, and he suspected that she was an Agency or Bureau colleague of Holly’s.
