Choppy Water

11

Colonel Wade Sykes got an encrypted phone call while having breakfast. “Yes?”

“It’s me. We lost them during the night.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Well, this is kind of embarrassing, but we found out this morning that Broad Cove Cottage isn’t on Broad Cove Road. It’s on the next road to the north. We found the other road, with a house at the end. They were gone, but left lots of car tracks in the mud. We checked the airport at Rockland, and the big hangar’s door was open; nothing inside. They probably left in the middle of the night or, at least, before sunrise.”

“Hang on,” Sykes said, and turned to his laptop. “This Barrington fellow has a lot of houses: one in L.A., one in Key West, two in England, and another in Paris. His airplane has the range for any of them from either Bangor or Presque Isle, one of which is where they’d have to clear customs on departure.”

“Have you checked any destination airports?”

“Yes, we’ve checked Key West and both Burbank and Van Nuys, which are the most likely general aviation airports for an aircraft of that size. Nothing.”

“Where does he land in England?”

“One of his houses is in London, the other is in the country, in Hampshire. He can land at London City, but hangarage is jammed there. He could also land at Northolt, west of the city, but the hangarage there is packed, too.”

“Check Southampton and Bournemouth, in the south.”

“I’ll get back to you.” He hung up.

Sykes was washing his dishes when the phone rang again. “Yes?”

“Bournemouth and Southampton come up zero.”

“Maybe he drove someplace from Maine,” Sykes suggested.

“Why would he do that? The weather has cleared, and he could go anywhere in the Gulfstream, and much faster. We’d be wasting our time to do a search for a car, when we don’t even know if or what he’s driving.”

“All right, shut it down and come home. Thanks for putting in the extra time on this.”

“No problem. We’ll be there tonight.”

They both hung up.

Stone and Holly were having breakfast in bed when Stone checked his e-mail and found one from Sam Meriwether, the former senator from Georgia and the vice president — elect.

Stone handed Holly the phone. “Maybe you’d better call him.”

They finished breakfast, then Holly called Sam on Stone’s phone.

“Well, you’re alive,” Sam said. “When are you planning to appear on Earth again?”

“Well, I know where I’ll be on January 20.”

“We need you sooner than that.”

“For what?”

“We didn’t have time to talk before you vanished into thin air, so nobody’s had a chance to tell you that you’re booked on the Sunday shows of all four networks this weekend.”

“Blow them off.”

“We can’t do that, Holly. You’ve already been gone too long. You need to take a victory lap, to let the folks who voted for you see your smiling face.”

“Hang on, Sam.” She covered the phone. “Stone, they’ve got me booked on all networks Sunday morning. When would we have to leave to make them?”

“Saturday night, latest,” Stone said.

“Sam says I have to do this.”

“I’m all for it,” Stone said. “Aren’t you getting tired of hiding?”

She went back to the phone. “All right, Sam. What time do you want me, and where?”

“Seven AM, Sunday, at your house. I’m assuming the Secret Service will transport you, but I’d like to have somebody in the car with you who knows the ropes with the networks.”

“Okay, have ’em ring the doorbell. The Service will want to board me in the garage. E-mail me a schedule on this phone, and I’ll pass it on to them, so they can make their arrangements. See you on the tube.” She made a kissing noise, then hung up.

“Well, so much for your vacation. I’m afraid it wasn’t much of one.”

“At least I got in some sleep and a few drinks,” she said. “Not to mention your body, and I want some more of that right now.”

Stone set the breakfast trays outside the door, then dove into her waiting arms.

After taking care of that, Stone sought out Bill Wright. “We’re going to need to fly to Washington tomorrow night,” he said.

“What’s the occasion?”

“She’s booked on four television shows on Sunday, in the Washington studios of all four networks.”

“May I make a suggestion?” Bill asked.

“Sure.”

“Why don’t we do a TV setup at her house, and she can do all four from there, remotely. She’ll still be on live TV, and we won’t have to secure four studios.”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Stone said. “I’ll call Sam.”

“You can blame us, if you like. Tell him we’re insisting for reasons of her personal security.”

“Right.” Stone got on the phone with Sam Meriwether and gave him the suggestion.

“I don’t see why not,” Sam replied. “It will give the appearance of a homier feeling. Is it too early for a Christmas tree?”

“I think so,” Stone replied.

“I’ll call you back.”

Stone went back to the bedroom and told Holly what was up.

“Wonderful!” she enthused. “I won’t have to sit around those studios waiting and being nice to people.”

“Right. Sam is setting it up, and we’ll offer the feed to the four stations. They won’t have to do a thing but press a button. They’ll love it.”

Inside of an hour, everyone was in agreement.

“I guess you’ll want to land at Dulles,” Bill said.

“No, at Manassas, Virginia. There’s enough runway, and a lot fewer people around.”

“Okay, that suits us fine. Where will she want to go after that?”

“Hang on,” Stone said. He went back to the bedroom. “Where do you want to go after Sunday?” he asked.

She seemed nonplussed.

“Your choices are: one, a prisoner in your own home; two, a prisoner in my home; three, live your life and the hell with them.”

“I won’t feel safe with option three,” she said. “Where do you want me?”

“In New York, with me,” he said firmly.

“Okay, we’ll stay in New York Sunday night.”

“Great!” He went to inform Bill and the Bacchettis.