Wild Card

by Stuart Woods

  “Can you memorize a fifteen-minute speech?”

  “Certainly. I’ve pretty much been ignoring the teleprompter.”

  “So I have noticed,” Ari said. “I don’t want you to confuse reciting a speech from memory and improvising one. They’re two different skills, and somehow, when you improvise, too many things come out wrong.”

  “I’m hurt,” Box replied.

  “Don’t be. Your memory will carry you through. It’s important, too, not to exceed the fifteen-minute limit. You run the risk of boring your audience, and it’s better to leave them wanting more than offering them too much.”

  “I take your point.”

  “I want you to have your clothes pressed more often, too,” Ari said.

  “Oh?” Box looked hurt again. “I’ve been told you’re sometimes excessively blunt.”

  “I try to say what needs to be said as quickly as possible. You have a tendency to look rumpled at the best of times, and keeping your clothes pressed lessens that. Assign a campaign volunteer to that task. Also, I’d like you to wear more solid-color ties or ones with very small figures, like pin dots.”

  “Am I choosing my ties badly?”

  “Yes.”

  Box winced. “All right, I’ll do as you say. By the way, your speeches have been excellent.”

  “Yes, they have been,” Ari agreed, “and they will continue being so. The press is picking up the lines I have intended them to.”

  “Am I ever going to see you live?” Box asked.

  “I’ll catch an occasional appearance on the trail, and I’ll introduce myself.”

  “I’m told you don’t like shaking hands.”

  “The custom of shaking hands arose from a desire to show others that one is unarmed. I am always unarmed.”

  “I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Goodbye, Senator.” Ari hung up.

  * * *

  • • •

  Senator Box turned to his bodyguard. “That kid is weird,” he said.

  * * *

  • • •

  Annie appeared, reflected in his computer screen. “I know you don’t like being touched,” she said.

  “It’s good that you know.”

  “I’m going to put my hands on your shoulders, and I want you to relax.” She reached out to him and detected an immediate stiffness.

  “I had a massage once,” Ari said. “I disliked it intensely.”

  “If you want a full and happy life,” she said, “you’re going to have to do some relearning.” She squeezed his shoulders slightly.

  He took a quick breath.

  “Now I want you to make a concerted effort to relax your shoulders, even though I’m touching them.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that,” he said.

  It took her ten minutes to feel a little relaxation in his body, and another ten minutes before he seemed to like it. “There,” she said. “Was that awful?”

  “It became less awful as you went along,” he said.

  “We’re going to do that for a few minutes every day. You’ll have more energy, and you’ll sleep better.”

  “If you say so.”

  “That’s what I like to hear,” she said, kissing him lightly on the beginnings of his bald spot.

  Ari jumped. “Too much, too soon,” he said.

  32

  After a fervent goodbye, Jamie was picked up in Stone’s garage by a black SUV with a driver and two women in the rear seat. The women got out and greeted her.

  “Hi,” said the slightly taller of the two. “I’m Lane, and this is Ida.”

  “Hi, Lane and Ida,” Jamie said. “It’s good to have you aboard for this tour.”

  “A few words of explanation,” Lane said. “We’re both armed.” She patted her large handbag. “And in some circumstances we’re trained to shoot first and think later. If you see either of us pull a gun, drop to the floor on your belly immediately. Is that clear?”

  “Clear,” Jamie said.

  “It doesn’t matter where we are when it happens, do it at once.”

  “Very clear,” Jamie said.

  “When we go into a ladies’ room, all three of us go. One stands outside your stall, or in the next one, if she needs to go; the other washes her hands or freshens her makeup. You must never, ever go into a ladies’ room alone in a public place. In the back room of a bookstore or an auditorium, we’ll wait outside until you’re done.”

  “Got it.”

  “All your hotel accommodations have two large beds in the bedroom. One of us will sleep on one of them, the other on the living room couch, in sight of the door.”

  “Tell me something,” Jamie said. “Do you have some special information that warrants this?”

  “It’s routine,” Lane said. “All you have to do is learn to trust us.”

  “I’m feeling very trusting,” Jamie replied.

  They opened a door, and Lane got into the rear seat with Jamie, while Ida rode shotgun, and they headed for LaGuardia.

  “We have all your airline tickets and copies of your ID,” Lane said, “so we’ll do all the checking in and, later, luggage retrieval. We’ve arranged it with the airlines that your bags will always be the last on board and the first off. Saves time.”

  * * *

  • • •

  They arrived at LaGuardia, where a waiting skycap with a cart took charge of the luggage and placed a red tag on each bag, and then they disappeared with him. The women started their journey to the gate. They were admitted to a side lane that took them past the security checkpoint, and when they arrived at the gate they were told that there would be a short delay.

  “I’ve got to go to the ladies’,” Jamie said.

  “Right this way,” Lane replied and led the way. They went into the room, and Ida put Jamie into the last stall, then stood outside while Lane washed her hands.

  The door to the restroom opened. Lane looked in the mirror and saw two men in dark suits enter. One of them stood by the door and wedged his foot against it. Lane turned, smiling, and stuck her hand into a pocket in her large purse. “That’s far enough, gentlemen,” she said.

  One of the men unbuttoned his jacket and let it fall open. Lane got her weapon out first. “That’s far enough,” she repeated. “Take your weapons out with two fingers and let them drop to the floor.”

  “You can’t get us both,” one of the men said.

  “If you want to bet on that, then go for it,” she said quietly. “We’re close enough for head shots. You’ll be dead before you hit the floor. Do it now!”

  The two men glanced at each other, and the doorkeeper nodded. They removed two Glocks and set them on the floor.

  “Kick them to me,” Lane said, “and do it right, to avoid accidents.”

  They kicked their weapons across the tile floor.

  Ida joined Lane, picked up the guns, and tossed them into the stainless-steel trash bin built into the wall beside the sink.

  “Jamie?” Ida said. “Join us, please.”

  “Now,” Lane said to the two men. “Open the door and run. Sprint.”

  The two men disappeared out the door, and she followed them to be sure they were running down the corridor.

  Ida guarded the outside of the door while Lane made a call. “Baggage? Four red tags to the sidewalk right now,” she said, then dialed a second number. “Plan B,” she said. “Half an hour.”

  “How would they know I’d be at LaGuardia?” Jamie asked. “My schedule hasn’t been published.”

  “There’s always somebody who can be bought,” Lane said. “Or maybe they’re just checking airports.”

  They hustled Jamie down a back hallway to where an electric cart waited, then rode back to the set-down entrance, where their bags were tossed into the waiting SUV.
<
br />   “Where are we going?” Jamie asked, once the car was moving.

  “Teterboro,” Lane replied. “You’ve been upgraded.”

  “But there’s no scheduled service from Teterboro, is there?”

  “No, but there’s unscheduled service,” Ida replied.

  * * *

  • • •

  A half hour later, at Teterboro, they drove into a rear door of a hangar marked STRATEGIC SERVICES and stopped next to a small jet. Moments later they were buckled in and being towed onto the ramp, and shortly afterward engines were started.

  “This is very nice,” Jamie said, looking around.

  “It’s a Citation CJ3-Plus,” Lane said. “We’ll beat the airline to Atlanta.”

  “You planned for all this?” Jamie asked.

  “There’s always a plan B,” Ida said. “Sometimes a plan C, too. If you’d like some music, put on your headset.”

  * * *

  • • •

  In Atlanta they landed at Peachtree-DeKalb Airport, where another SUV awaited them. And soon, they were installed in a suite at the St. Regis.

  “Surely these people will have my signing schedule, won’t they?” Jamie asked.

  “Your schedule is unpublished,” Lane said. “All the promotion is being done at bookstores. I’m told we can expect a crowd tonight. Drink?”

  “Oh, please,” Jamie said, getting out her cell phone.

  “Hello,” Stone said.

  “Well,” Jamie said, “we’ve already dodged the first attempt on my person.”

  “What part of your person?”

  “My neck, I guess. These women with guns are very, very good.”

  “Viv Bacchetti handpicked them.”

  “She has a good eye.” She told Stone what had transpired.

  “Did you get ruffled?”

  “Only in my head. We went to Teterboro and got onto a smaller jet.”

  “That’s my old CJ3,” Stone replied. “I did a trade with Strategic Services.”

  “I wish you were here.”

  “I guess Strategic Services isn’t supplying that service,” he said.

  “Not yet,” Jamie replied, “but the women with guns are starting to look pretty good.”

  33

  Stone sat and thought after Jamie had hung up. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was too risky for the Thomases to try such a bold move in a public place; the fact that they had worried him. He called Bob Cantor on his throwaway phone, but all he got was a beep.

  “Bob,” he said, “this is Stone. Please call me right away. The opposition made a move on Jamie.” He hung up and waited. And waited. He checked his watch. They had had time to get to Brooklyn, even if they had stopped at Bob’s house to pick up some things.

  * * *

  • • •

  After a couple of turns around the block, Bob pulled into his garage and closed the door behind them. “I need to pick up some clean clothes,” he said to Sherry. “You want to come in?”

  “Sure,” she replied.

  They left the car and went inside. Bob went upstairs to pack a bag. Fifteen minutes after their arrival, they were back in the car while Bob checked the outside cameras on his iPhone. No threats.

  Bob drove to Brooklyn, to the tree-shaded street where he had bought and renovated a house years before. He rented out apartments on the two lower floors, both to cops, and occupied the top two. He drove around the block twice and saw nothing of interest, then he went back to the house and parked in front. They each took two bags from the trunk and started up the front steps.

  Bob heard a slight noise, then Sherry collapsed on the stoop while he dove into the doorway and freed a weapon. He reached out, got Sherry by an ankle, and pulled her into the shelter of the doorway. Her head left a bloody trail behind her, and she was unresponsive.

  Bob got out his throwaway and saw a missed call on the screen.

  “I was worried,” Stone said.

  “You had good reason,” Bob replied. “Sherry has taken a bullet to the head. I can’t tell how bad. She’s alive, but unresponsive. I need an ambulance now. I also need two squad cars. I can’t move her into the wagon while the threat is still out there.” He gave Stone the address.

  “I’m on it,” Stone said. He hung up and called Dino.

  “Bacchetti.”

  “It’s Stone. We weren’t careful enough. Bob’s at his place in Brooklyn with Sherry, and she’s taken a bullet to the head. He needs an ambulance and a couple of cars for protection while they load her.”

  “Address?”

  Stone gave it to him.

  “Three minutes, tops,” Dino said, then hung up.

  Stone thought he should go to Brooklyn, but then thought better of it. He called Bob back.

  “Yeah?”

  “Help is on the way. I don’t know which hospital they’ll take her to, so call me as soon as you find out, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Don’t do that,” Bob said firmly. “There won’t be anything you can do, and if we start breaking cover they’ll be all over us.”

  “Good point.” Stone could hear an ambulance in the background. “How’s Sherry doing?”

  “She’s moving a little, but still unconscious. Here’s the ambulance and a squad car; I can hear another one on the way. I’ll call you when I know something.” He hung up.

  Stone called Viv on her cell.

  “I’ve already heard about Jamie,” she said. “Precautions have been taken.”

  “You haven’t heard about Sherry.”

  “What about Sherry?”

  “Bullet to the head. Still alive, but it looks bad. Dino responded, and she’s on the way to the hospital. I just wanted you to know that the Thomases are throwing caution to the wind. I expect I’ll be next.”

  “I’ll have some people at your house in twenty minutes,” she said.

  “Thank you.” He hung up.

  * * *

  • • •

  Bob was walking rapidly down a hospital hallway beside Sherry, who was on a gurney, holding her hand. Suddenly, she squeezed it. He bent over her.

  “It’s okay, babe, you’re in the hospital.”

  Sherry whispered something and he put his ear to her lips. “Don’t let them cut off my hair,” she said.

  Bob laughed. “You’re gonna be fine.”

  The gurney was wheeled into the ER and into an examination area. A doctor pushed him out and pulled a curtain.

  “She says don’t cut off her hair!” he yelled at the opening in the curtain.

  “Got it!” the young doctor yelled back.

  Bob went out into the hall, where an NYPD sergeant walked up to him. “The commish got involved,” he said. “She’ll be moved to a protective custody area when they’re done. For witnesses, and the like.”

  “Thank him for me,” Bob said.

  The cop nodded, and Bob took a seat and called Stone.

  “It’s Stone.”

  “We’re at Bellevue. She squeezed my hand and told me not to let them cut her hair.”

  “That’s sounding good,” Stone said. “I’ll speak to Dino about a round-the-clock guard.”

  “Not necessary. Dino has already arranged for her to be put in a room in the protective custody area.”

  “That’ll be locked and guarded twenty-four-seven,” Stone said. “Have you talked to a doctor yet?”

  “It’ll be a while, I think. They’ll have to do X-rays and tests.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “What are you doing about security?”

  “Viv has people on the way.”

  “And Jamie?”

  “They went after her at LaGuardia, but Viv’s people got her out unharmed. She’s in Atlanta.”

  “That’s a better place to be
than here,” Bob said.

  “Did you look over the neighborhood before you got out of the car?”

  “Yeah. Nobody at my house and nobody here. I think somebody had built a nest across the street and was just waiting for us.”

  “I hope it was a small-caliber round,” Stone said. “Were you hit at all?”

  “No, I’m still in one piece, but that’s more than anybody will be able to say about the Thomases when I’m done with them.”

  “Easy, Bob. Don’t go off half-cocked.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “Just put that out of your mind. We’ll talk when you’re done there. Come back here then. Don’t go home.”

  “We’ll see,” Bob said.

  34

  Jamie was getting a manicure in her Atlanta hotel suite when the phone rang and one of her guards answered. “Got it,” she said into the phone, then hung up.

  “What was that?” Jamie asked.

  “Nothing to worry about,” Ida answered.

  “If it was nothing to worry about, then it won’t matter if you tell me what it was,” Jamie said. “I insist.”

  “Sometimes it’s better if you don’t know everything,” Lane said.

  “Well, if it’s something I don’t know, I really need to hear it, and right now.”

  “Oh, all right. You know a woman called Sherry in New York?”

  “Yes.”

  “Someone took a shot at her in Brooklyn this afternoon.”

  “And I shouldn’t know that?”

  “Does it make you feel better?”

  “It makes me feel more knowledgeable,” Jamie said. “Is she dead?”

  “No, she’s recovering in the hospital.”

  “Now I feel better. What were the circumstances of the shooting?”

  “I don’t know, just in Brooklyn.”

  Jamie called Stone with her free hand.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Jamie. Tell me about Sherry.”

  Stone told her. “I don’t know any more than that. Bob will come here when he’s willing to leave her.”