Conspiracy by Stephen Coonts Read Free Book Online Page A

They walked in silence, avoiding the roughest terrain, neither man admitting how heavy the double burden was.
    An hour passed. By now it was fairly dark. Sleeth checked in with his wife on the radio and told her they were still about a mile away.
    â€œIf it’s too heavy for you, we can come back with some help at dawn,” Sleeth said to Dean.
    â€œNo, I’m all right.”
    They climbed for about fifteen minutes, struggling up a rocky gorge. Dean lost his footing near the top; his knee twisted out beneath him and he fell sideways, the dead cougar’s fangs tapping against his face—a reproof, it seemed.
    He pushed himself to his feet, shouldered the metal stick, and clambered with Sleeth up the hill. Once they reached the top, the path was easy, wide spaces between trees and a gentle slope to the creek bed where the truck waited.
    â€œMore than you bargained for, Mr. Dean?” asked Sleeth’s wife as they drove back toward the Sleeth house. Sleeth was with the dog in the back.
    â€œIt was interesting.”
    â€œWhat do you do for a living?” she asked. A few years younger than her husband, she had a thick neck and well-defined biceps and forearms, and a face prematurely aged by the sun.
    â€œOwn some gas stations,” said Dean. He’d sold the stations when he went to work for Deep Black, but of course he wasn’t about to mention what he really did.
    â€œThis is a bit more interesting than your normal day’s work, I’d guess,” said Mrs. Sleeth.
    â€œYou’d be surprised,” said Dean, propping his arm against the window of the truck.
    Â 
    A FEW HOURS later, the dog patched up and the mountain lion prepared for the taxidermist, Sleeth joined Dean in the living room.
    â€œI’m refunding your money,” said Sleeth, sitting down in the leather chair across from Dean.
    â€œWhy?” asked Dean.
    â€œI almost got you killed. I was sloppy. I did a terrible job.”
    â€œNah.”
    â€œI should have known there was another animal there. Male and female lions will hunt together when they’re mating. I should have known.”
    Dean, no expert on mountain lions, studied the Scotch in his glass, then took a sip, savoring the Glenfiddich as it burned in his mouth.
    â€œYou were really cool up there, dealing with the cat,” continued Sleeth. “A lot of guys—”
    Instead of finishing his sentence, Sleeth got up and walked to the sideboard nearby, fixing himself a drink.
    Dean took another sip of his Scotch.
    What if he’d missed on the second shot as well?
    He wouldn’t be here to think about it, probably. Or maybe he would be, waiting for a medevac helicopter, eyeball dangling from its socket.
    Sleeth sat back down.
    â€œIt’s unusual for a lion to attack humans,” he said. Maybe there was something wrong with it, or maybe it had attacked before, or maybe it saw them as rivals for its mate. Ordinarily, the cats didn’t attack unless cornered, not even to protect their young. The words drifted past Dean’s head.
    Maybe he’d missed that first shot because Sleeth was right: he
was
getting old.
    Dean’s sat phone began to ring.
    â€œI just want to check this. Excuse me,” he told Sleeth. He got up, pulling the phone out as he walked to the door.
    â€œDean,” he said outside.
    â€œCharlie, this is Chris Farlekas. I’m afraid you’re going to have to cut short your vacation. There’s something urgent that we need your help on. We’ll have a plane meet you at Le Havre Airport. OK?”
    â€œWhat time?”
    â€œAs soon as you can get there. It’ll be on the ground in half an hour.”

 
15
    â€œOH, HOW PRECIOUS —a onesie with a matching rattle.”
    Lia DeFrancesca tried very hard not to roll her eyes as the guest of honor continued to gush over her baby shower presents. The very pregnant guest happened to be Lia’s best friend from high