Dishonorable Intentions by Stuart Woods Read Free Book Online Page B

how that must have been. Tell you what, I’ll get Mike Freeman to station a couple of men over there for a few days.”
    â€œI would really appreciate that. Otherwise, I’d have to make Fred sit in my office all day.”
    â€œConsider it done. You okay now?”
    â€œMuch better,” she said. “I might have a little of your bourbon.”
    â€œFeel free—you’ve earned it. Bye.”
    â€œBye.” They both hung up.
    He looked at Gala and found her staring at him. “I think I got the gist of that from your end of the conversation.”
    â€œGood, then I won’t have to repeat myself. You didn’t hear Joan’s description of how she and Fred dealt with Boris. Fred kicked him in the knee, and Joan clipped him with her .45.”
    â€œClipped him?”
    â€œHit him in the head. Then Fred threw him into the street.”
    â€œOh, good.”
    â€œExcuse me a minute, I need to talk with Mike.” He got upand went forward to where the Strategic people were holding their meeting, whispered his request to Mike, and got a quick nod. Mike picked up a telephone and dialed a number.
    Stone returned to his seat and found Gala asleep again. Soon, he was asleep himself.

12
    T he G650 set down on the Windward Hall landing strip in the long English twilight. The crew shut down one engine while Stone, Gala, Bob, and their luggage were taken off, then as they got into the estate’s Range Rover, the engine was restarted and the aircraft took off on its short flight to Le Bourget, Paris.
    â€œOh, look!” Gala said as the house hove into view. Bob seemed to have pretty much the same reaction, putting his head out the window and barking at the house. All the lights were on, and the place glowed. “It’s so beautiful!” Gala said.
    They were settled into the master suite, then went down to the library, where a table had been set for their dinner. They had had only a sandwich on the airplane.
    Stone phoned home and got Joan. “Everything all right there?”
    â€œNo further disturbance,” Joan said, “and Mike’s people are camped out in my office. We’re happy as clams here.”
    â€œGood. We’re just sitting down to dinner, so I’ll say goodbye.”
    Geoffrey, the butler, had left a selection of wines for their dinner; Stone chose one and uncorked it, then decanted it to rid the wine of its sediment. They had a drink before the fire while the wine took a breath.
    â€œIt’s another world,” Gala said, looking around, “and one without Boris in it.”
    â€œThe best kind.”
    Dinner was served, and they enjoyed themselves.
    â€”
    T he following morning, after a perfect night’s sleep, Stone decided that they should attend the grand opening of the Rome Arrington, a few days hence. At noon he called Pat Frank, who ran the aircraft management service that took care of his airplane, and asked her to have his Citation CJ3 Plus flown to his home in England.
    â€œI can arrange that,” Pat said. “How soon do you need it?”
    â€œA couple of days will be okay, but do something else for me, please.”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œHave my tail number blocked from the various flight-tracking services.”
    â€œIs someone too interested in your movements?”
    â€œThat is the case.”
    â€œI’d better get on that now, then, it takes a day or two to get it done.”
    â€œTell your pilot he’ll be driven to Heathrow for his flight home.”
    â€œWill do. Anything else?”
    â€œNot at the moment.” They both hung up.
    â€œThat was easy,” Gala said.
    â€œEverything is easier when you’re organized.”
    Stone looked out the window at the sky. “The forecast is good for today. How would you like a ride and a picnic lunch?”
    â€œSounds perfect.”
    â€”
    T he horses were brought from the stables, and they cantered across the