Two-Dollar Bill

45

WITH GREAT RELUCTANCE, Stone called Lance.

"Yes?"

"It's Stone."

"Where are you?"

"That's not important; I need your help."

"You bail out of a secure location that I went to great trouble to provide, go out into the world unprotected, endanger this operation and you want my help?"

"I just need some information," Stone replied.

"You want information from me? After…"

"I knew you'd be like this," Stone said.

"I ought to have you shot on sight."

"Lance, we both know you're not going to do that, so just calm down and…"

"I ought to bring charges against you. If there weren't a civilian in jeopardy, I'd…"

"Lance, I'm a civilian."

"No, you are a contract consultant, and as such…"

"I'm still a civilian, so will you just shut up and listen to me?"

Lance sighed deeply. "I'm listening."

"It occurred to me that there might be fingerprints on the alarm system in my house, and…"

"There could be dozens of prints on it."

"No, my own tech wiped it down the last time he worked on it. There were just three sets-your tech and two others."

"And I suppose you got Dino to run the two others?"

"I did. They belong to a guy named Bocca who has done time for burglarizing homes after installing their alarm systems…"

"That's interesting."

"Not very. The other set of prints belongs to a Martin Block, who owns an electronics business in Queens. He is more interesting."

"Why?"

"Because there are questions about his background." Stone explained about Block's unusual discharge from the navy and the blank year in his history.

Lance was quiet for a moment. "How do you spell his last name?"

Stone spelled it.

"I'll get back to you."

"Lance, there's something else."

"What?"

"I've heard from Billy Bob again."

"The message about a meeting this afternoon? I heard it."

"Oh. Well, get back to me. I don't want to have to take that meeting, if I can possibly help it."

"Goodbye." Lance hung up.

"So?" Dino asked. "He's going to help?"

"If he can find a way to help himself without helping me, he'll do it."

"He's pissed at you, huh?"

"He's pissed."

Dino's phone rang. "Yeah? Well, keep him in sight." He hung up. "Block's on the move in the Lexus."

Stone looked at his watch. "Eight-thirty; he's going to work."

"Probably. They'll let us know."

Ten minutes later, Stone's cell phone rang. "Yes?"

"It's Lance. Block was recruited from the navy by the Agency and sent to the Farm for further technical training. After a year, he got drunk and told a girl who he worked for and how he was being trained; he told her about several devices that we used at the time."

"And you caught him?"

"The girl worked for us, too; it was a test, and he failed it. He was bounced within days."

"Anything else?"

"Yes. His roommate at the Farm was Jack Jeff Kight."

"Bingo."

"I'm going to put people on Block immediately," Lance said.

"No need to; Dino's got people on him now. He left home a few minutes ago in his car, and we think he's going to work."

"He has offices and a warehouse on Queens Boulevard," Lance said.

"Then that's where Billy Bob is holding Arrington," Stone said.

"That's a big leap, and if you're wrong and we go in there, we could get her killed."

"You have a point. We'll have to confirm that she's there, before we can go in."

"My man, Sandy, who did the work at your house, has bought equipment there in the past. I'll send him back and see if he can learn anything. You sit tight, wherever you are. I'll get back to you."

"Lance, if Billy Bob calls and gives me instructions, I'll have no choice but to follow them."

"Before you do, you'd better call me; you'll have a better chance of survival with my help. Whatever you do, don't let Dino's people handle your cover. They'll stand out like sore thumbs."

"Call me when you know something." Stone hung up and turned to Dino. "Lance has no faith in the ability of the NYPD to operate undercover."

"Fuck him."

"He has a point, Dino; his people have a lot more experience at blending into the woodwork, and they don't look like cops."

"Cops don't look like cops, sometimes."

"Everybody in your squad room wears black shoes and white socks."

"I put a stop to that," Dino said.

"Maybe, but I'll bet they still wear the same black shoes."

"Some of them," Dino admitted. "They got used to them when they were in uniform."

"And every umarked police car might as well have an NYPD paint job; you can spot them a block away."

"And Lance's people drive black Surburbans with the windows blacked," Dino pointed out.

"There is some truth to that," Stone admitted, "but they have other transportation resources. Lance is sending a man into Block's business, which is on Queens Boulevard."

Dino's phone rang, and he pressed the speaker button. "Yeah?"

"Block drove to his business on Queens Boulevard," a detective said.

"Well, I'm glad he got there ahead of Lance's man," Stone said.

"He used a garage-door opener and drove inside," the detective said. "The place covers a third of a city block."

"Okay," Dino said, "sit on him. One of you take a walk around the block and see if there are exits other than on Queens Boulevard."

"Right," the man said, and hung up.

"Life would be sweet, if Arrington is there," Dino said.

"It would be sweet, if we could prove she's there before raiding the joint. Lance pointed out that, if she's not, we could get her killed. He's got this tech named Sandy, who's done business there; he's sending him in now to case the place."

"I could have done that," Dino said.

"Dino, the guy has done business there before; you have anybody like that?"

"Maybe."

"Let's just sit back and let Lance do his thing for the moment, all right? I mean, you were happy to give him the Billy Bob problem only a short time ago, as I recall."

"That was before I found out Billy Bob wanted to kill me," Dino said.