Naked Greed by Stuart Woods Read Free Book Online Page A

he was gone one of the men, Frank, walked past the Bentley, looked around, then bent down and reached under the car for a moment, then went back and got into his own car.
    “Did you get it done?” his companion, Charlie, asked.
    “Of course I did, didn’t you watch? We can track him anywhere now, and watch him on the iPad. He’ll never know he’s being followed.”
    “I’ll believe this when I see it.”
    —
    S tone and Caroline gave Fred their luggage and got into the Bentley.
    “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Caroline asked.
    “No, I don’t think so. Let’s make it a surprise.”
    “Okay, I like surprises—good ones, anyway.”
    “This is a good one.”
    They passed through the Lincoln Tunnel and drove into darkest New Jersey.
    “Have we picked up any tails, Fred?” Stone asked.
    “No, sir, I’m keeping a watch.”
    The car turned into Teterboro Airport and drove to Jet Aviation. A valet loaded their luggage onto a cart. “Your airplane is right down front, Mr. Barrington,” he said, and they followed him through the lobby and out onto the ramp.
    —
    T he two men in the car across the street watched them. “They’re taking a fucking airplane somewhere,” Charlie said. “Now we’ll lose them.”
    “Just wait right here,” Frank said. “I’ll be right back, it’ll be okay.” He walked into the lobby and up to a rear window overlooking the ramp, where he saw Barrington and his girlfriend approach a light jet airplane. He noted the tail number, then went back to the car.
    “I got their tail number,” he said.
    “So you’re going to send them a postcard? How’s that going to help?”
    “We can track the plane, just like we tracked the car.”
    “No shit?”
    “No shit,” Frank said, switching on his iPad. “You’ll see in a minute.”
    —
    T his is very nice,” Caroline said after Stone closed the door and they had settled into the cockpit. “I’m a pilot, you know.”
    “I didn’t know. What do you fly?”
    “Daddy had a Cessna 182, and I learned in that. I’ve got about three hundred hours, total time. What is this airplane?”
    “It’s a Citation Mustang, borrowed. I used to have one of these. I’m expecting delivery of a new CJ3+ shortly.”
    “Lucky you.”
    —
    Y ou’ll find our flight interesting,” Stone said. He worked his way through the checklist, all the while demonstrating how the avionics worked, then he started the engines and radioed ground control for a clearance. Fifteen minutes later they were lifting off Runway One.
    Stone explained the moving map as they flew northward.
    Caroline peered at their destination. “So we’re going to an island in Maine?”
    “Exactly. There’s the airport on the map.”
    “That looks awfully small for a jet airplane to land on.”
    “And it will look short when we get there,” Stone said, “since it’s only two thousand four hundred and fifty feet long. You’ll notice that we’re flying at only eleven thousand feet. Jets use much more fuel at low altitudes, so that’s to lighten our load, since we started with full tanks. By the time we land, we’ll be much lighter, and that will help us stop short on landing, then help us break ground on takeoff when we return home. It also helps that I’ve done this before.”
    “How long a runway do we need?”
    “Ordinarily three thousand feet is good.”
    “And this one is two thousand four hundred and fifty?”
    “Right, but there are only two of us, we don’t have much luggage, and when we take off we’ll be at half fuel, so no problem.”
    “I place myself in your hands,” she said.
    “That’s not a great compliment, since you’re already in my hands.”
    “How long is our flight?”
    Stone consulted the instrument panel. “Another fifty minutes.” Half an hour later he pointed ahead of them. “That’s the island. The airport will be right over there,” he said.
    “Ah, I see it. You’re right, it looks very short.”
    “It will