by Arthur Kerns
“What’s become of Dawid van Wartt?”
“Charges were dropped for political or other reasons. He hasn’t been seen lately.”
“What about Hayden Stone?”
“Came through like a trooper. Retired now. Living somewhere along the Riviera. Villefranche, I believe.”
“I’d like to meet him someday,” Kerr said.
Villefranche-sur-Mer
Hayden Stone sat on the open veranda enjoying a cold beer, watching sailboats on the Bay of Villefranche. He kicked off his boat shoes, lifted his feet onto the wood railing, and tried to relax. He had spent a whole morning sailing on the ketch, La Claire, and when he returned washed down the craft, stowed the sails, and tended to the rigging. Still, he felt restless. Perhaps it had to do with reading the articles on the one-year anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center.
“There you are.” Lucinda came up and stroked his hair. She eased into the chair next to him. “I’ve been over to Nice shopping.”
They had been living together for almost a month, and things were working fairly well. Weeks before, when he had suggested he sell his home in Virginia, she surprised him. “Don’t you dare,” she protested. “I love to visit America.”
“Are you bored? What do you plan to do with your days here in the South of France?”
Stone thought a moment. “I might grow flowers like that retired jewel thief in the Alfred Hitchcock film.”
“What kind of flowers?”
“Pretty ones.”
“I’d rather you work on managing my investments. I need someone I can trust. Also, you might like to look over the repairs to the palace roof, and while you’re up there on the mountain check on the landscaping along the patio.” She took a sip from his beer glass. “We might also go shopping for you. You need a new sweater for the winter.” She reached over and pulled up the pant leg of his jeans. “Where on earth did you get those socks?”
Stone found the contessa bossy. This came as a surprise. He took her hand and kissed it. They watched a motorboat pull up to the slip.
“Are we expecting guests?” she asked.
“No,” Stone said. Jacob waved from the boat, his white fisherman’s sweater bright against the sky.
“Do I know that man?”
“He’s a colleague. I mentioned him to you our last morning in Cape Town. We were together in Cameroon.”
“Oh.”
Stone went down to the boat. Two other men stood on the open deck. Stone didn’t recognize their hard faces.
“Can we talk?” Jacob asked, stepping onto the pier.
Stone invited him up to the house to meet Lucinda, but he begged off. “Best we make this a chat between ourselves.”
“Let’s take a stroll along the waterfront.”
He put his arm on Stone’s shoulder. “Did anyone thank you for Africa?”
“A handsome bonus was sent to my bank in Switzerland.” Stone was touched by Jacob’s unexpected visit. “What brings you here to the Riviera?”
“Passing through. Have some diamond business to conduct. Dirk Lange returned to Sierra Leone. He’s still deciding whether he’ll join the new South African anti-corruption organization. When I was there he told me your mutual friend Jonathan benefited from your generous donation to Doctors Without Borders.”
“Guess Jonathan will get his prosthetics after all.”
“Some more news. Your adversary, Abdul Wahab, has managed to make himself indispensable to the intelligence community. They’ve taken him to Yemen to help counter al Qaeda activities there.”
“Abdul Wahab lands on his feet like a cat.”
“You’ve landed well too, my friend.” Jacob directed his gaze at the seaside villa and the yacht, then pointed to the mountain. “Is that Lucinda’s palace up there?”
“Yes.”
After what seemed like a long moment, Jacob said without looking at him, “Hayden, everyone we know is getting into the fight. Afghanistan is going to be a protracted campaign. There’s talk about going into Iraq. The jihadists are spreading their influence throughout the Horn of Africa.” Jacob moved his face close to Stone’s. “You’ve chosen the soft life.”
“I’ve put in my years of service. I’ve done my part.”
“I suppose there’s no getting you back?” Jacob asked.
They didn’t speak as they returned to the motorboat. Jacob said he’d stop by occasionally. The motorboat left as quickly as it came.
Lucinda insisted they drive into town and shop at a men’s store. “Why did Jacob drop by?”
“He wanted closure on the African affair.”
She slowed the Maserati. “Isn’t the matter closed? You were instrumental in preventing a catastrophe, and now you are retired here.” She took a deep breath. “With me.”
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Was she hinting he’d miss the intrigue, the danger?
After a relaxing dinner in the village of Èze, Stone changed into his pajamas and then heard a buzzing sound. He thought it was a faulty electrical circuit, then guessed he’d left his electric razor on. On his way to check, he saw the secure cell phone he’d neglected to return to the CIA when he departed Cameroon. Colonel Frederick’s name appeared on the caller ID.
“Hello, Gus.”
“Stone. What other CIA equipment haven’t you handed back?”
“Pay me a visit and I’ll personally turn the phone over to you.”
“Right now, Hayden, I’m on a plane above you, looking at the lights of Nice. We’re headed for Yemen.” A pause. “You live well, my friend.”
“Yes. I do.”
“Have to sign off. Oh, Sandra Harrington is sitting next to me. She says, ‘Get off your ass, Stone.’” The line went dead.
Hayden Stone went out to the balcony and peered at the sky. Among the many stars he was certain he spotted the lights of the plane carrying his comrades southeast to the Arabian Peninsula, to Yemen, the land he knew so well.
Turning, he looked back into the bedroom, where Lucinda was slipping on her negligee. No other woman was like her. If he left and joined his colleagues, would she welcome him back?
He shook his head in disbelief at what he was about to do. He looked down at the cell phone and redialed the last number.
The End
Glossary of Terms
AGENT/ASSET Person obtaining intelligence for an intelligence agency, under control of a case officer
BLOWN/BURNT Spy who has been exposed
BRUSH PASS Momentary person-to-person contact to pass intelligence
BUG Covert listening or recording device
CANADIAN SECURITY INTELLIGENCE SERVICE Canada’s foreign intel service
CASE OFFICER Staff officer of an intelligence agency
COS Chief of a CIA station posted to a US Embassy
COUNTERSPY Intelligence officers charged with uncovering spies. FBI. MI5.
DOUBLE AGENT An agent believed to be working against a target country but is actually loyal to that country
DRY CLEAN To evade surveillance
EXTRAORDINARY RENDITION Kidnapping of spies or terrorists for interrogation
LEGAT Legal attaché, FBI agent attached to a US embassy
LEGEND Life story created for a covert agent
MOSSAD Israel’s spy agency
MI6 British Secret Intelligence Service (external)
NOC Non-official cover, CIA equivalent of Russian illegal agent
PAROLE Password used to confirm identity between agents
RSO A US Embassy’s regional security officer
SAFE HOUSE Place where spies can hide from hostile security services
SLEEPER Deep cover agent
TARGET Person, place of intelligence interest
TRADECRAFT Mechanics of/proficiency in espionage
Acknowledgements
I want to thank the members of my writing group, especially Betty Webb,
for their support over the years. My ongoing thanks goes to my readers Judy Starbuck, Deb Ledford, and Virginia Nosky, who read and critiqued every page of the completed manuscript.
This book would not have been written without help from my publisher, Diversion Books, in particular Mary Cummings, Sarah Masterson Hally, Brielle Benton, and especially my editor Randall Klein, whose patience and assistance with the manuscript was invaluable.
My associates in the Desert Sleuths chapter of Sisters in Crime, Society of Southwestern Authors, and the International Thriller Writers have been most supportive of my writing. Special thanks to Nate Deason of the Phoenix Herpetological Society, in Scottsdale, Arizona for extending to me his knowledge of African reptiles.
Of course, thanks to my agent, Elizabeth Kracht of Kimberley Cameron & Associates, who works so hard on my behalf.
Finally, I want to express my gratitude to my wife, Donna, for her love and support.
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