Collateral Damage (22 page)

“Let’s continue,” Holly said.

After the meeting had adjourned Holly took Stone back to her new office. “What do you think?” she asked, waving an arm.

“Beautiful,” he said.

“I didn’t even know it existed until this morning. Since we’ve never had a station chief here, nobody used it.” Her phone rang. “Holly Barker.”

“It’s Lance,” her former boss said. “Bring me up to date.”

Holly told him the details of what had occurred during the past twenty-four hours.

“What can I do to help?”

“You can contact every station chief who runs informants and find out what you can about the cells in the five American cities. Have them pump the local intelligence services for information. What we know now we got from MI-6. There may be some knowledge drifting in the wind.”

“I’ll start on that immediately. It’s the kind of thing I’d have ordered you to do a few weeks ago.”

“Isn’t your new deputy working out?”

“He’ll do, but he’s not you.”

“That’s the highest praise I’ve ever had from you, Lance.”

“And well deserved. By the way, congratulations on the station chief’s job.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll get back to you when I have something to get back to you with.”

“Bye.” They both hung up.

“Your FBI guest behaved just like every other agent I’ve had to work with,” Stone said.

“I think they have a couple of courses at Quantico on how to be a pain in the ass.”

“I think you’re right to involve him as little as possible, and I’ll be very surprised if he comes up with any useful information. The Bureau doesn’t like running snitches—they don’t like to associate with the lower types.”

“The commissioner doesn’t like him any better than I do,” Holly said. “It’s the NYPD who are going to find Jasmine.”

“I think you’re right,” Stone said.

—

Across town Habib let himself into the basement apartment and found Jasmine watching a soap opera. He handed her the early edition of the
New York Post.
“You’re all over the papers,” he said.

“Do you have a reliable hairdresser on your short list of people you trust most?”

“I do,” Habib replied.

“I think a late-night appointment with him or her would be of great use.”

“Tonight?”

“The sooner the better. I don’t want to venture out in daylight until I’ve made that photo in the papers useless. When I’m done, I want new passport photos taken, and the appropriate adjustments made in my travel documents.”

“I’ll take care of that myself,” he said.

“And I’m hungry. Let’s order in.”

“I’ll get some menus,” Habib said, heading for the kitchen.

—

Holly and Stone were having a sandwich in her office when the commissioner called.

Holly pressed the speaker button. “Good afternoon.”

“I’ve emptied out the police academy,” he said. “I’ve got every cadet on the West Side now, stuffing every mailbox with the photo of Jasmine, and they’re paying particular attention to Middle Eastern and Indian restaurants.”

“That’s great news, Commissioner, and a good use of your available manpower.”

“We’re going to get her sooner rather than later.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The commissioner hung up.

“That’s a good idea,” Stone said.

“Yeah, the FBI would never have thought of that.” She looked at her watch. “The director should be here in an hour or so, along with my new secretary, who’ll be here for the duration.”

“You want me to put her up at my house? I’ve got guest rooms available.”

“No, there are rooms here, and if she finds that depressing she can use my apartment, which is just sitting there, biodegrading.”

“As you wish.”

—

Habib paid the deliveryman, brought the two paper bags into the apartment, and unpacked the containers on the dining table.

Jasmine helped herself to the various dishes. “I feel like I’m in Damascus,” she said.

“There are good restaurants in New York,” Habib said.

“Remember,” Jasmine said, “I’m a Londoner, I like northern Italian food.”

Scotty handed her bags to the copilot, climbed into the helicopter, and buckled up. She couldn’t believe it: she was in a futuristic helicopter, sitting next to the director of Central Intelligence, about to depart for New York. The machine lifted off the pad, climbed about a hundred feet, then headed northeast, gaining speed rapidly. Shortly she had a grand view of Washington, one she had never seen from an aircraft.

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” the director said.

“Yes,
ma’am
,” Scotty replied.

“I know we’ve met, but I don’t know much about you,” the director said.

“I joined the Agency four and a half years ago,” Scotty said. “Before that Georgetown, for a bachelor’s in public policy and a master’s in foreign studies, then eight years in the State Department, working for two assistant secretaries of state.”

“How are you liking the Agency?”

“Very, very much,” Scotty said, “and I think I have the best job in the building, except maybe Ms. Barker’s and yours.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” the director said. She opened a
New York Times
and read until they were over New York City. Moments later they were exiting the chopper and climbing into a black SUV.

“Have you been to the New York station before?”

“No, ma’am, I’ve only been to the city twice before.”

Kate Lee nodded and answered her cell phone.

—

Holly’s phone rang. “Holly Barker.”

“This is security. The director and your secretary are on the way up.”

“Thank you.” She hung up. “They’re here,” she said to Stone.

A moment later the two women bustled into the office. “Hey, I like this,” Kate Lee said. “Hi, Stone.”

“Hello, Director.”

“Did you enjoy this morning’s meeting?”

“It was enlightening,” Stone replied. “Are you staying overnight?”

“Maybe.”

“May we take you to dinner?”

“I’d like that. Let me check in with the White House and see what my schedule there is like.”

Holly showed Scotty her office and the kitchenette.

“I’ll make coffee,” Scotty said.

Kate flopped down in a chair in Holly’s comfortable sitting area. “I’ve been on the phone with the director of the FBI,” she said. “They’re terribly upset over there about the expansion of our charter.”

“I got that impression from the AIC,” Holly said.

“I know that man, and he’s an ignoranus,” Kate said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“He’s both stupid and an asshole.”

Holly and Stone erupted in laughter. “I couldn’t have characterized him better,” Holly said, when she had control of herself again.

“Appear to be cooperating with the Bureau,” Kate said, “but don’t let it get in your way. Any news?”

“Yes, the commissioner has turned out all the students at the police academy and has them papering the West Side with flyers.”

“What a great idea! I like that man.” Her cell phone rang, and she answered it. “Hello, darling,” she said. “I mean, hello, Mr. President. Yes, good flight. I’m with Holly and Stone. They’ve asked me to dinner. You need me this evening? Not for that, dummy, do we have a state dinner or anything? Good, then I’ll stay over. At the Carlyle. The Secret Service likes it. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” She hung up. “I guess we’re on for dinner. I warn you, it’ll be a production—the Secret Service will be all over it.”

“It’ll be just the three of us,” Stone said, “so why don’t we dine at my house? I’ve got a wonderful cook, and there’s already Agency security on the place.”

“Sounds great. Nothing fancy, I hope.”

“We’ll dine in the kitchen. And I’ll invite Mike Freeman, if you like.”

“Wonderful! Scotty, will you let my Secret Service detail know that I’m dining at Mr. Barrington’s tonight?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scotty said. “I have the address.” She stepped out into the hallway for a moment, then came back with an agent.

“Mr. Barrington,” the man said, “may we have a look at your home this afternoon?”

“Of course. My secretary, Joan Robertson, is there, and so is the housekeeper. I’ll let them know you’re coming.”

“I’ll be staying at the Carlyle tonight,” Kate said to the man. “Will you let them know?”

“You’re welcome to stay at my house,” Stone said.

“Thanks, but I’ve got clothes and stuff at the Carlyle. What time?”

“Drinks at seven?”

“Perfect.”

“Is there anybody you’d like to ask?”

“No, let’s keep it small, it’ll be more fun.”

Stone excused himself and stepped away, digging out his cell phone.

“Woodman & Weld,” Joan said.

“Hi, it’s me. Will you let Helene know we’ll be four for dinner this evening? Oh, and invite Mike Freeman. Drinks at seven. Adjust the numbers, if he’s bringing someone.”

“Of course. Do you want anything special?”

“Tell her to cook Greek. It’s what she loves most, and tell her our guest is the first lady.”

“Omigod! Are you sure you want her to know?”

“Maybe you’re right, we’ll surprise her, but you can tell Mike.”

“I think that’s best. What time?”

“Drinks at seven, in the garden. The Secret Service will be calling on you shortly, so give them a look around. Have them look at the garden, too. We can dine out there, if they approve.”

“Okay.”

“Any calls?”

“Nothing you’d want to hear about.”

Stone laughed. “Okay, you can deal with those.” He hung up.

“We’re all set,” he said to Kate.

“I’m sorry about all the Secret Service stuff. I know it’s a pain in the ass.”

“Not in the least. I’m happy to have the extra security in these troubled times.”

“Wait until you taste Helene’s cooking,” Holly said.

“I feel a weight gain coming on,” Kate replied.

Stone had Helene put a couple of extra chairs at the banquette in the big kitchen, and told her to use a linen tablecloth.

“Anybody I know coming, Mr. Stone?” Helene asked.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe. Mr. Freeman will be here—he loves your cooking.”

Helene blushed.

Stone went upstairs and sat in his study while Holly changed for dinner. At a quarter to seven, the front doorbell rang. He picked up the phone: “Yes?”

“Hi, Stone, it’s Mike. I’m early, I know. Will you let these guys in the SUV know not to shoot me?”

“Sure, Mike, I’ll buzz you in. I’m in the study.” Stone called the phone in the car and eased the minds of the two Agency security men.

Mike made his way to the study, and Stone poured him a drink. “Have a seat, Mike. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk with you about something, and this seems like a good time.”

“Sure.”

“It occurs to me that, since Kate Lee has only a few months left in office, it might be good if we asked her to join the Strategic Services board.”

“What a good idea!”

“Do you think she’d consider it?”

Holly spoke up from the doorway. “I think she’d jump at it.” She poured herself a drink, allowed Mike to peck her on the cheek, and sat down.

“Why jump?” Mike asked.

“I think she’s nervous about having enough to do when the president has left office. I know for a fact that she doesn’t want to spend a lot of time on his family cattle farm. She has a horror of anything agricultural.”