bottle.”
“Done,” she said.
“You pick the restaurant and book the table. The headwaiters here don’t know who I am.”
“If I’m doing my job properly, they don’t know who I am, either, but leave it to me.”
“You going to do something sneaky to get a good table?”
“I’m sneaky for a living,” she said.
“And good at it.”
You said it, pal.”
“A DRINK HERE AT, say, six-thirty?”
“I’m going to feel like martinis tonight,” she said.
“Then I will aid and abet.”
16
TEDDY FAY TURNED THE CESSNA TOWARD CLINTON FIELD, in the southeast quadrant of greater Washington, ont>
“Tell me again why we’re landing at D.C.,” Lauren Cade said.
“Because it’s the last place Mr. Todd Bacon would think of looking for me. You can bet your sweet ass that right now he’s got a team canvassing every general aviation airport on the West Coast all the way to Canada.”
“I get that part,” Lauren said, “but there have to be, at the very least, dozens of people in D.C. that you used to work with at the Agency who would recognize you on sight.”
Teddy shook his head. “First of all, most of a generation of people I worked with have retired, and they don’t have the money to move into D.C. Those who are still active live out near McLean, as close to work as they can.”
“I guess that makes sense, but being here still makes me nervous.”
“Why? Nobody here knows you, do they? And remember, I wear disguises,” he said, pointing at the toupee that covered his pate.
“It’s true,” Lauren said, “that you do disguises better than anybody I ever saw. Sometimes even I find you unrecognizable.”
“That’s because I have a pretty much featureless face. A nose here, a mustache there, and I’m somebody else. So relax, baby, we’re going to be just fine.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Besides,” Teddy said, “I have a little hideaway at this airport that I kept for years as a backup to Manassas. I have a hangar here that you’ll like.”
“A hangar? What’s to like?”
“O ye of little faith,” Teddy said, stopping before a hangar. He shut down the engine, walked to the small door set into the hangar door, worked a combination lock, and stepped inside. A moment later the hangar door opened squeakily. He walked back to the Cessna, got out the tow bar, and backed the airplane into the hangar.
“We have a car,” he said, pointing to an oldish Toyota parked in a corner. He closed the hangar door and switched on a light. “Grab a couple of bags,” he said, “and follow me.”
He grabbed some bags himself and led her up a flight of stairs, where he tapped a code into a keypad, opened a door, and switched on some lights.
Lauren looked inside. “It’s a living room,” she said.
“It’s an apartment,” he corrected. “There’s a bedroom, a kitchen, and an office, too.” He fiddled with the thermostat, and cool air began to flow. “We need to dust and vacuum and lay in some groceries,” he said, “but that can wait until tomorrow. Let’s shower and change, and I’ll buy you dinner.”
STONE ANSWERED THE BELL and let Holly into the suite, then gave her a kiss. “You look smashing,” he said, admiring the tight yellow dress. “I thought CIA people were purposely drab and were trained to fade into the background.”
“Once in a while I fox everybody by being noticeable,” she said.
“And noticeable you certainly are.” He went to the bar, opened the freezer, and removed a pitcher of martinis that he had premixed. He filled ed.but tha martini glass, dropped in three olives on a spear, and handed her the glass, then poured himself a Knob Creek on the rocks. “Here’s to knockout dresses on beautiful women,” he said, raising his glass.
Holly took a tentative sip, then a bigger one. “Wow,” she said.
“It’s colder than ice.”
“I noticed that.” She sucked an olive off the toothpick and chewed thoughtfully. “Wow again!
“Done,” she said.
“You pick the restaurant and book the table. The headwaiters here don’t know who I am.”
“If I’m doing my job properly, they don’t know who I am, either, but leave it to me.”
“You going to do something sneaky to get a good table?”
“I’m sneaky for a living,” she said.
“And good at it.”
You said it, pal.”
“A DRINK HERE AT, say, six-thirty?”
“I’m going to feel like martinis tonight,” she said.
“Then I will aid and abet.”
16
TEDDY FAY TURNED THE CESSNA TOWARD CLINTON FIELD, in the southeast quadrant of greater Washington, ont>
“Tell me again why we’re landing at D.C.,” Lauren Cade said.
“Because it’s the last place Mr. Todd Bacon would think of looking for me. You can bet your sweet ass that right now he’s got a team canvassing every general aviation airport on the West Coast all the way to Canada.”
“I get that part,” Lauren said, “but there have to be, at the very least, dozens of people in D.C. that you used to work with at the Agency who would recognize you on sight.”
Teddy shook his head. “First of all, most of a generation of people I worked with have retired, and they don’t have the money to move into D.C. Those who are still active live out near McLean, as close to work as they can.”
“I guess that makes sense, but being here still makes me nervous.”
“Why? Nobody here knows you, do they? And remember, I wear disguises,” he said, pointing at the toupee that covered his pate.
“It’s true,” Lauren said, “that you do disguises better than anybody I ever saw. Sometimes even I find you unrecognizable.”
“That’s because I have a pretty much featureless face. A nose here, a mustache there, and I’m somebody else. So relax, baby, we’re going to be just fine.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Besides,” Teddy said, “I have a little hideaway at this airport that I kept for years as a backup to Manassas. I have a hangar here that you’ll like.”
“A hangar? What’s to like?”
“O ye of little faith,” Teddy said, stopping before a hangar. He shut down the engine, walked to the small door set into the hangar door, worked a combination lock, and stepped inside. A moment later the hangar door opened squeakily. He walked back to the Cessna, got out the tow bar, and backed the airplane into the hangar.
“We have a car,” he said, pointing to an oldish Toyota parked in a corner. He closed the hangar door and switched on a light. “Grab a couple of bags,” he said, “and follow me.”
He grabbed some bags himself and led her up a flight of stairs, where he tapped a code into a keypad, opened a door, and switched on some lights.
Lauren looked inside. “It’s a living room,” she said.
“It’s an apartment,” he corrected. “There’s a bedroom, a kitchen, and an office, too.” He fiddled with the thermostat, and cool air began to flow. “We need to dust and vacuum and lay in some groceries,” he said, “but that can wait until tomorrow. Let’s shower and change, and I’ll buy you dinner.”
STONE ANSWERED THE BELL and let Holly into the suite, then gave her a kiss. “You look smashing,” he said, admiring the tight yellow dress. “I thought CIA people were purposely drab and were trained to fade into the background.”
“Once in a while I fox everybody by being noticeable,” she said.
“And noticeable you certainly are.” He went to the bar, opened the freezer, and removed a pitcher of martinis that he had premixed. He filled ed.but tha martini glass, dropped in three olives on a spear, and handed her the glass, then poured himself a Knob Creek on the rocks. “Here’s to knockout dresses on beautiful women,” he said, raising his glass.
Holly took a tentative sip, then a bigger one. “Wow,” she said.
“It’s colder than ice.”
“I noticed that.” She sucked an olive off the toothpick and chewed thoughtfully. “Wow again!
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