Stealth

16

Stone drove the Porsche 911 up to London, figuring the car needed the exercise. He made it to the Connaught by four PM without getting arrested and turned the car over to the doorman for parking.

The MI-6 suite was better than he had expected; the rooms were large and well-decorated. Once the bellman had deposited his luggage and left, Stone stood in the middle of the living room and said loudly, “This is Barrington. I’m here.”

A moment later his cell phone rang. “Yes?”

“Message received,” a woman’s voice said. “Good luck.”

Getting lucky was what Stone had in mind. And now, for the first time, he considered that he and Rose would be performing for an audience, if only via audio. He tried to put it out of his mind.

Shortly after five o’clock his phone rang. “Hello?”

A man said, “Your companion is on her way up.”

“Thank you.” He hung up and waited. A moment later there was a rap on the door and he opened it to find Rose standing there, holding a small duffel.

“Hi, there,” she said, snaking an arm around his neck and kissing him. “I declined the offer of a bellman,” she said, pushing him inside and hipping the door shut. “I didn’t want any witnesses.” She backed him to the bed, and they were undressed and under the covers shortly.

Stone dismissed any thought of aural witnesses and turned his attention to gratifying her in every way he could think of. Finally, they were lying in each other’s arms, spent and sweating.

“I didn’t offer you a drink,” Stone said.

“I didn’t give you time.”

“Would you like one now?”

“Yes, please.” She released him; he went to the bar and poured them each one.

She plumped up their pillows and arranged them so that they could sit up. “That was spectacular,” she said. “As always.”

“It certainly was,” Stone said softly.

“It’s a pity we don’t have a video for later viewing,” she said.

“Negative,” Stone replied. “The only recording should be in our memories.”

“I have a very good memory,” she replied. Soon, they had finished their drinks and were dozing.

Stone was shaken awake at seven o’clock. “What time is our dinner table?” Rose asked.

“My ankle is bothering me,” Stone said. “Do you mind if we order from room service?”

“Not in the least.” She kissed his ankle.

“Did you find that technique for healing in a medical textbook?” he asked.

“No, I made it up. Sort of a home remedy.”

“Speaking of home, do you have an actual address and phone number?” he asked.

“Yes, I have a little flat in Ennismore Mews, in Knightsbridge.”

Stone grabbed a phone pad from the bedside table. “May I have the address and your number?” he asked, handing her the pad and a pen.

“Of course,” she said, scribbling.

Stone looked at the pad to be sure it was legible; it was. He read the address aloud, followed by the phone number.

“Didn’t I give you that before?”

“No, you left my house like a thief in the night — and with no forwarding address.”

“I apologize. Now you have it all.”

“What’s it like, performing three hysterectomies in a single day?” he asked.

She laughed. “You don’t want to know. Men are not good at receiving that sort of information. Suffice it to say that the OR staff handled everything efficiently, and so did I. The worst thing was that I had to change gowns and scrub up three times.”

“How did a doctor get involved with MI-6?” he asked.

“You already have my official denial that I am associated with such an organization,” she replied.

“Do they recruit doctors?”

“How would I know, not being privy to their practices?”

“Oh, all right. Next time I see Dame Felicity I’ll tell her I failed to worm anything out of you.”

“The next time you speak to her, don’t mention my name, or even my existence,” Rose said. “I don’t want me on her mind. I was shocked when she turned up with the col... sorry, the brigadier, in tow.”

“Why?”

“Because I associated him with Station Two, which is the only place I had ever encountered him.”

“Somehow, I thought you had known him before,” Stone said.

“When I arrived at Station Two I reported to him, as everyone does, but I didn’t see him again except on the ward, when he was screaming at you. The next time was at your table at Windward Hall.”

“Whom did you replace at Station Two on your locum?” Stone asked.

“That’s an odd question.”

“I somehow thought there was only one doctor there — the one who doctored my ankle.”

“The one you met. He came back from his leave a day early.”

“Why did I never see you around the station before I was in the clinic?”

“Because I was in the clinic. That was where the work was.”

“I guess that makes sense. What sorts of things did you treat during your locum?”

“The only other patient I saw was the fellow you shared the ward with, the one with a broken leg,” she replied. “I was told that they rarely admitted anyone who was sick. Nearly all the admissions were of injuries suffered during training.”

“Has anyone ever died in training?”

“If anyone has, I wasn’t told about it. I did hear that we came close to losing you by drowning. It was a good thing the truck with the winch happened along when it did.”

Stone found the room service menu and shared it with her. They ordered dinner and a bottle of wine.

“I’d like a shower before dinner arrives,” she said. “Join me?”

“No, thanks. I don’t want to get caught in there with you by a room service waiter,” Stone said. “We might shock him.”

Dinner arrived in due course, and two waiters set up the table and served them.

Stone couldn’t think of anything else to ask Rose, and they dined quietly.

“Have you run out of questions?” she asked.

“You’ve worn me out,” Stone replied.

“I will again.” And she did.