THIRTY-FOUR

Stone awoke the following morning, still a little steamed at Eggers, and switched on the Today show. Moments later the screen was filled with the image of a battered black Mercedes being lifted by a crane from a swimming pool, water pouring from every orifice, and it had some new orifices.

“Dr. Holland tells me that nearly a hundred mature plantings have had to be removed temporarily to allow the crane access,” the reporter was saying, “and he wants to know who’s going to pay for that. As for the Mercedes, all the glass in the car was shattered on impact, and there isn’t a body panel on the car that isn’t bent. The vehicle appears to be a total loss for whoever owns it, and that’s not even counting the two bullet holes in the left front fender.”

“Misty,” Matt Lauer said, “we’ve had confirmation that the registered owner of the car is a Spanish corporation with the rather bland name of Overseas Info. I don’t know what that is in Spanish, but our correspondent in Madrid tells us that the company is widely viewed in that country as being a front for an American intelligence agency, which shall remain nameless.”

Stone switched to Morning Joe, which had the same footage of the car. “The question here,” Joe Scarborough was saying, “is first of all, how can the CIA afford to buy very large and expensive Mercedes automobiles, and second, why are they tossing them out of airplanes, or the space shuttle, or wherever they launched the car from? And now we’re getting a report that a school custodian a little distance from the Holland mansion has discovered a discarded parachute in a trash can at the school’s soccer field. This seems to indicate that somebody was actually flying the Mercedes before bailing out.”

The people around the show’s table roared with laughter.

Stone’s phone rang. “Hello?”

“It’s Lance.”

“Good morning, Lance,” Stone said. “How is it you are discussing with Bill Eggers my presence on the C-17 the other night and, apparently, blaming me for the loss of your Mercedes?”

“I deny that,” Lance replied.

“I figured you would. Tell me, have you seen the latest film of the car on the morning TV shows?”

“I have.”

“Have you heard the mention of a company called Overseas Info, which is said to be a front for an unnamed American intelligence service?”

“I have.”

“How is that going down upstairs at the Agency? Is everybody just pleased as punch?”

“I don’t need this abuse,” Lance said. “I called to give you some good news, but if you don’t want to hear it . . .”

“There is nothing I would like to hear more,” Stone replied. “Shoot.”

“Would that I could,” Lance said. “I have persuaded people at the State Department to remove the flags on Pablo’s and his family’s passports. I am told that will be accomplished by noon today. Are we all right on that score now?”

“We will be the moment the flags are gone,” Stone replied. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re still on for Monday morning.”

“My people will be at your house this afternoon to sweep the place and begin installing their video and audio equipment.”

“Fine.”

“I should tell you that the video and audio feeds will be transmitted to Langley, where a number of analysts will be watching and listening to corroborate your client’s statements. I assume there will be no objection to that.”

“None from me. I’ll speak to my client about it.”

“Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I have more important work to do.” Lance hung up.

Stone called Pablo.

“Hello?”

“I’ve just heard from Mr. C. that the State Department will remove the flags from your passports by noon today,” Stone said.

“It has already been done,” Pablo replied. “My source just phoned me.”

“Also, Mr. C. wants to feed your interview back to his offices so that some of his colleagues can watch and listen, in order to substantiate the factual nature of your interview. Any problem with that?”

“None whatever,” Pablo replied.

“Did you find the maps you need?”

“In fact, such a map is being FedExed to me from another country as we speak, a map that has been annotated by my source. I think Mr. C. and his colleagues will find it very interesting.”

“Good. Do we need to rehearse what you’re going to say in the interviews?”

“No,” Pablo replied. “But you may feel free to stop me if you think I am incriminating myself beyond the terms of our agreement with Mr. C.”

“I have drawn the agreement to be all-encompassing,” Stone said, “so I don’t think we have to worry about that. With any luck at all, by this time next week you will be free to move about as you please, and your family can join you.”

“We’ll see. They may wish to remain where they are for a time, and I may join them.”

“Will you feel secure in Europe and other places after your interviews?”

“My assumption is that no one will know what I have said.”

“That is my assumption, too,” Stone replied, “but we are dealing with human beings, here, who might have a tendency to leak. You should keep that in mind.”

“I will do so.”

“Have you seen the television reports of the recovery of the Mercedes from the swimming pool?”

Pablo chuckled. “Yes, I have. I’ve been very much enjoying them.”

“You should know that Mr. C. does not share your amusement, and it would be unwise to bring up the subject when you meet, and if he should bring it up, be humble and contrite. We don’t want him angry.”

“I understand, and I’ll try my best not to needle him.”

“If he needles you, remain calm.”

“Remaining calm is one of the things I do best,” Pablo replied.

“Mr. C. has asked about your whereabouts, and since I don’t know, I’ve given him a truthful answer. I don’t think there is anything to be gained by letting him know where you are residing during your stay in New York.”

“I entirely agree,” Pablo said, “and as soon as I feel free to travel, I may relocate elsewhere.”

“I guess that couldn’t hurt,” Stone said.

“Flexibility of travel has always been very important to me,” Pablo said. “Tell me, do you know if Mr. C. knows about my airplane?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“I must give that some thought,” Pablo said.

“I’ll see you Monday morning,” Stone said. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Now that my shoes have been repaired by Mr. Jim, I need nothing,” Pablo replied. “Good day.” He hung up.


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