6 Stone Barrington Novels (192 page)

BOOK: 6 Stone Barrington Novels
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48

AT TWO-THIRTY,
Stone and Dino were having a sandwich in the kitchen, when there was a soft knock at the back door. Stone opened it to find McGonigle, Corey and Peter standing there. “Come in,” he said, scooping up Peter.

“Stone,” Peter said, “where did you go?”

“I'm sorry, Peter, I had to sneak out for a while to run an errand. Did you and Corey have a good time?”

“We played all sorts of games, but we couldn't go outside.”

“Tomorrow, I'll take you to Central Park,” Stone said, setting the boy on the kitchen table.

“What's Central Park?” Peter asked.

“It's a great big, beautiful park, right here in the middle of New York, and you'll love it. Have you had lunch?”

“We went to Burger King,” Peter said. “I had the double bacon cheeseburger.”

“I'll bet your mother doesn't let you have that.”

“No, she's nutrition conscious. Don't tell her.”

“Don't worry, that's just between you and me.”

“Oh, Dino, this is McGonigle and Corey; they're Lance's people.”

“I've heard about you, Dino,” McGonigle said.

“I haven't,” Corey said, shaking his hand.

“Corey,” Dino said, “will you do me a small favor?”

“Maybe,” Corey said.

“Will you frisk Stone for weapons?”

“Sure,” she said. She turned to Stone and said, “Up against the wall, creep, and spread 'em.” She turned to Dino. “Isn't that the way the NYPD does it?”

Stone assumed the position, and Corey quickly found the Walther and the S&W snub-nose. She didn't take the magazines.

“Thanks,” Dino said. “You proved a point for me. You can give him back his guns, now.”

“You've got something in the crotch, haven't you?” she asked.

Stone nodded.

“You're too squeamish, Corey,” McGonigle said.

“You wouldn't have found it, either, McGonigle,” Stone said.

“You're exactly right,” Corey said. “Next time I put my hands on you, I'm going for your crotch,” she said to Stone.

“Promises, promises.”

Stone's cell phone began to vibrate. He held up a hand for silence, grabbed a pad and pencil and answered it.

“Yes?”

“Good afternoon, Stone,” Billy Bob said. “I'm looking forward to getting together in a little while.”

“Oh, me, too,” Stone said. “It's been too long.”

“I assume you're at home.”

“Right.”

“When we've finished talking and you've hung up, I want you to go to your front door, where you'll find a small package. Inside is a handheld radio. Exactly ten minutes from now I want you to turn on the radio and back out of your garage in your own car. After that, you'll receive instructions. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Bye-bye.” Billy Bob hung up.

“Corey,” Stone said, “there's a package on my front doorstep; will you bring it to me, please?”

“Sure.” Corey left the room.

“What are your instructions?” McGonigle asked.

Stone waited until Corey had returned, then he opened the box. “I leave in nine minutes in my car,” he said. “I get my instructions on this.”

McGonigle was on his cell phone. “Lance, we've had the call. Stone is to leave the house in his car in eight and a half minutes; he'll get his instructions on a handheld radio that was left on his doorstep. I'm looking at it, and there is no tuning knob, and it doesn't have a brand name, so it will have a single frequency, and it will probably be off any of the commercial spectra. You're going to need a wideband scanner.” McGonigle listened for a moment, then handed the phone to Stone. “He wants to speak to you.”

Stone took the phone. “Yes, Lance?”

“Time is short; I'm scrambling the chopper now, and we'll be on you as quickly as we can. McGonigle is going to give you another radio, and you can use that to communicate with me on the chopper. We'll be scanning all frequencies to try to pick up your other radio, but it won't matter much. Just repeat all your instructions into our radio.”

“Will do,” Stone said.

“There'll be a sharpshooter on board. If you think it's worth the risk, just hit the dirt at any time, and pull Arrington down with you, if she's there, and he'll start firing. Don't get up until everybody is dead.”

“Got it.”

“Is Dino with you?”

“Yes.”

“Let me speak to him.”

Stone handed the phone to Dino.

Dino listened. “I got you,” he said, and handed the phone back.

Stone took the phone back, and he could hear a helicopter's engine whining as it started up. “I'm ready.”

“I hope so,” Lance said. “Go and get into the car; you've got five minutes before you open the garage door.”

“Goodbye, Lance.”

“You're going to have to play your end by ear, Stone. Good luck.” Lance hung up.

“He told me not to get my people involved,” Dino said.

“I think it's best that way.” Stone looked at his watch. “Four minutes.”

“I'm going to go and make sure the garage door is working right,” Dino said. “I'll leave that way. Good luck.” He slapped Stone on the back and was gone.

Stone sat next to Peter on the kitchen table. “I have to leave again for a while,” he said. “But I'll be back later, and if there's still daylight, I'll take you to Central Park.”

“Okay,” Peter said.

“Did I mention they have a zoo?”

“No, really? Do they have lions?”

“They sure do.”

“Oh, boy!”

Stone kissed the boy. “Corey will take care of you. See you later.”

“Bye-bye, Stone.”

McGonigle handed Stone a small handheld radio. “It's on, and it's on the correct frequency.” Then he picked up Billy Bob's radio, removed the back, placed a chip about two inches square inside and closed it. “That will let Lance track you.” He handed it to Stone.

Stone took the radio and walked through the house to his car. Dino had left the garage door open. He got in and started the engine. A minute to go.

At the appointed minute, he put the car into reverse and backed out of the garage, closing the door behind him with the remote control. Then he almost panicked. He had forgotten to turn on Billy Bob's radio. He switched it on, and immediately heard the voice.

“Stone? Are you there?”

Stone pressed the transmit button. “I'm here, Billy Bob.”

“Get headed east. I'll give you more directions in a minute.”

“Right.” Stone got headed east. Stone didn't pray much, but he prayed now.

49

STONE TURNED OFF
Third Avenue onto Forty-eighth Street and headed east.

“Take a left on First Avenue,” Billy Bob said.

Stone turned left on First, then picked up Lance's radio. “I'm headed up First Avenue in my car,” he said.

“Roger,” Lance replied.

Stone drove on for another dozen blocks.

“Get on the FDR Drive, going north,” Billy Bob said.

Stone made the turn and got onto the drive. “I'm on the FDR, heading north,” he said into Lance's radio.

“Roger,” Lance replied.

Traffic was light, and he moved well. He picked up a radio. “Lance, do you have me in sight?”

“Roger,” Lance said. “We're in what looks like a news copter. We've got you in sight, so there's no need to report again. If we lose you, I'll call. Relax.”

Stone tried to relax.

“Turn onto the Triborough Bridge,” Billy Bob said, “and keep left.”

Stone breezed through the tollbooth, because of the E-ZPass device on his windshield, and moved over to the left lane.

“Follow the signs to Randall's Island,” Billy Bob said.

Randall's Island is in the East River; Stone had never been there. He drove down the ramp and approached an intersection.

“Turn right.”

Stone turned right.

“Follow the road.”

It was like having a talking GPS navigator in the car. He was driving past a series of baseball diamonds. He had never known they were there.

“After the traffic circle, turn into Field One Twenty-one,” Billy Bob said.

Stone went around the traffic circle, came out and followed a sign to 121.

“Pull under the bleacher cover, get out of the car and leave the radio,” Billy Bob said. “Leave your other radio, too.”

Stone picked up Lance's radio. “I'm at baseball diamond number one twenty-one on Randall's Island. I have to leave your radio here. Billy Bob thinks I had another radio, so be prepared for some sort of surprise.”

Stone stopped under the bleacher cover, at a place where equipment could drive onto the field for maintenance. He got out of the car and, immediately, a man stepped out of the shadows with a shotgun and pointed it at his head.

“Turn around and put your hands on the roof of the car,” the man said.

Stone did as he was told. The man rested the barrel of the shotgun against the back of his head and began to pat him down. Right away, he found the Walther in the holster on Stone's belt. He found the magazines, too, dropped them and the pistol on the ground and kicked them under the car. Then he started down Stone's legs from the crotch. He wasn't shy about feeling everything, but he was doing it from behind, so he missed the Keltec .380 in Stone's Thunderwear. He found the S&W snubnose, though, and kicked that under the car, too.

Stone felt a handcuff snap onto his right wrist.

“Give me your left hand,” the man said.

Stone did so, and his hands were cuffed together behind his back. The barrel of the shotgun against his head persuaded him not to object.

The man grabbed him by the collar and stood him up, facing the rear of the car.

“Now listen to me very carefully,” the man said.

Stone looked over his shoulder and saw the trunk lid of his car slowly open.

“My instructions are to kill you, if you give me the slightest difficulty,” the man said. He was standing with the short-barreled shotgun at port arms.

“Oh, I won't give you any trouble,” Stone said. He saw Dino roll out of the trunk of his car, and he had never been so glad to see anybody. “But the guy behind you might.”

“Yeah, sure,” the man said.

Dino put a pistol to the back of the man's head and said, “Drop the shotgun.”

The man dropped the shotgun.

“Oh, no,” Stone said aloud.

“What da ya mean, ‘oh, no,' ” Dino said, and then somebody put another shotgun barrel against the back of his head.

“Oh, no, there's a guy with a shotgun behind you,” Stone said.

“Swell,” Dino replied. He dropped his pistol on the pavement.

Stone watched as the second man put Dino against the car and searched and handcuffed him as had been done to Stone.

“What do we do with this one?” one of the men said.

“I dunno; there were no orders about that.”

“Call and find out.”

The first man produced a radio. “Boss, we've got two of them here,” he said.

“I told you it might happen,” he said. “Sit them down and carry out the rest of the plan.” The men put Stone and Dino on the ground, leaning against a light pole.

From somewhere out beyond the field, Stone heard a helicopter. “It's Lance,” he whispered to Dino.

“It goddamned well better be,” Dino whispered back.

Then another man appeared from the shadows. He was Stone's height and weight, with the same hair color.

“Let's go,” one of the men said, grabbing the man by the arm.

Stone was baffled by this turn of events, but then he watched as the man with the shotgun marched the other man toward the center of the little ballpark. They stopped on the pitcher's mound, and seconds later, a green helicopter swooped in and set down in a cloud of dust. The man with the shotgun pretended to force the other man onto the chopper, then it lifted off and flew away to the east.

“I think you just left by helicopter,” Dino said.

“Yes, and it wasn't Lance's.”

The shotgunner ran back under the shelter and waited. Stone could see the helicopter head out in the direction of Long Island, and, a moment later, he saw another chopper in pursuit, one with “News 6” painted on its side in huge letters.

One of the shotgunners spoke into a radio. “Okay, we're good.”

A moment later, a silver Lincoln Navigator screeched to a halt under the roof, and Billy Bob got out. “God, your people are stupid,” he said.

Stone tried and failed to think of a snappy comeback.

“Put them in the luggage compartment and cuff 'em back to back,” Billy Bob said.

The two men put first Stone, then Dino into the rear compartment of the Navigator, and Stone heard another pair of handcuffs snapping shut. He and Dino could lean against each other's backs, but they couldn't turn around. Somebody then pulled a shadelike cover over
their heads and fastened it. A moment later, the Navigator drove away.

“All comfy back there, Stone, Dino?”

Neither of them replied, but Dino was swearing a blue streak under his breath.

“I hadn't expected you, Dino, but you're welcome. I ought to be able to gain some sort of advantage by having a cop as my guest for a short while.”

“Thanks for coming,” Stone whispered to Dino.

“My pleasure,” Dino replied.

“Now you boys settle down back there,” Billy Bob said. “While your friends are chasing my rented chopper around Long Island, you and I have other fish to fry.”

“Where's Arrington?” Stone asked.

“I didn't expect you to keep your end of the bargain, Stone, so I didn't keep mine. You'll see her later, though.”

Stone tried to relax and count the car's turns, figure out where it was going. After five minutes of left and right and U-turns, he gave up.

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