They took a taxi back to Chapman’s car at the parking garage.
She said, “I can drop you off at your cottage.”
“I feel like walking some more,” he replied.
“Look, I’m sorry about not telling you earlier about Weaver. But I have my orders too.”
Stone drew close to her. “If that’s how you want to operate, so be it.”
“Well, how exactly do you operate in that regard?”
“I don’t keep things from the people I’m working with in the trenches. That’s where my loyalties lie. That’s why I told you about Fuat Turkekul even though your boss didn’t want me to.”
Her face flushed. “Okay, okay. I get it. And I am sorry.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He paused. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I’m fine now. All wide-eyed. A firm verbal spanking does it every time.”
After a very long walk Stone reached the Georgetown campus, which was quiet at this hour. He found the community message board, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, wrote a note and posted it on the board using a few extra pushpins stuck into the cork. On the way to his cottage he used his cell phone to call Harry Finn.
“Glad Reuben’s okay,” were the first words out of the man’s mouth.
“Me too,” said Stone. “He wants to leave the hospital but I think he’ll be safer in there.”
“You think the folks might try again?”
“Even though he told us what he knew, as did Annabelle, there’s no reason not to be careful. Now tell me about Fuat.”
Stone stopped and leaned against a tree as he listened.
Finn said, “If he is going after bin Laden, he’s taking his own sweet time. He gets up, eats, teaches class. Has lunch. Teaches some more. Has office hours. Goes for a walk. Has dinner, goes to his apartment, reads and goes to sleep.”
“No secret communications? No clandestine meetings?”
“Not that I’ve seen. And I would have.”
“I know you would, Harry.”
“They may have him lying low because they know we’re watching.”
“I thought of that too. But it’s difficult to know what to do about it. Look, go home and rest.”
“And Turkekul?”
“I’m going to try a different angle. I’ll keep you posted.”
Stone continued the walk to his cottage. On the next block over his internal senses started tingling. Six o’clock and nine o’clock. He could feel them there before he even saw them. A man behind. A woman to his left. They looked innocuous, uninterested in him. That is, they did to the casual eye. Stone hadn’t possessed a casual eye in over forty years. His hand drifted to his holster. He picked up his pace just a bit because he wanted to get to the next intersection a few seconds faster. A plan had formed based on knowing this area as well as he did.
As soon as he reached the intersection he suddenly veered to his right. A construction Dumpster was up on the sidewalk because the house located there was being renovated. He took up a defensive position behind it, drew his pistol and placed a bead on the woman.
“Agent Stone?” the woman called out.
Stone kept her in his gunsight and said nothing.
“Director Weaver would like to talk to you.”
“I’m sure he would.”
“We were assigned to bring you to him.”
“I prefer he come to me.”
The man appeared next to the woman. He said, “Sir, the director is a very busy person.”
“So am I.”
A car drove past and the old woman inside peered out at the man and woman before driving on. A few other people were walking up the street, not yet in earshot, but they soon would be.
“He just wants to talk,” said the woman, desperation creeping into her voice.
“I’d be glad to entertain him.”
“Okay, where?” the man asked.
“The outdoor parking lot down by the river. One hour.”
“Sir, the director—” began the woman as she nervously looked over her shoulder at the approaching people.
Stone cut in, “The director will be very pleased to meet me there at that time. Now keep walking so I can put my gun away.”
“This is highly irregular,” snapped the woman.
“Yes, it is.”
“We’re federal agents too,” added the man. “On the same side as you.”
“I’ll buy the first part, but not the second. Go!”
They walked off. Stone slipped the gun back in its holster and set out for the river. He wanted to get there first. He had things to get ready. He picked up his pace even as a knot grew in his stomach. It was one thing to risk life and limb trying to solve a complex case. It was quite another to have to do so while watching your rear flank. But apparently that was just how things were now.
And why am I surprised?