Unintended Consequences - By Stuart Woods

35





When Stone arrived back at his desk he had a note to call Lance Cabot, on what Stone assumed was a private line. He made the call.

“Good afternoon, Stone.” No secretary.

“Good afternoon, Lance.”

“Have you made any arrangements for Helga to fly to the States?”

“Yes, Marcel duBois’s attorneys are flying to New York the day after tomorrow, and they will pick her up at noon at Stockholm City Airport, at Grafair Aviation. They will be landing at Teterboro.”

“That is quite satisfactory,” Lance said. “I will see that Helga is transported from her island home to Stockholm City Airport by helicopter that morning. Tell her the chopper will land on her front lawn at ten A.M., local time.”

“I’ll do that.”

“How are your business dealings with Marcel proceeding?”

“Extremely well.”

“Can you share some details?”

“I don’t see why not. Marcel is buying twenty percent of our shares for three hundred and fifty million. He is establishing a European corporation for building hotels over there, and we will invest in this with an exchange of shares.”

“You’ve moved quickly, then.”

“Marcel is very easy to do business with.”

“I have some news, too, but more troubling. The Russian contingent in Paris is extremely upset about the death of Aldo Saachi and the loss of one other man by drowning in the Seine. One of the men in the Mercedes survived, and he is very angry, too. His name is Yuri Majorov.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve seen him in Paris. Is he the one who took a shot at Amanda Hurley?”

“He is, to our knowledge. A contact on the inside of his organization, which we have code-named SQUID, has told us that Majorov’s masters have declared him persona non grata in Paris and that he is being dispatched to New York. Having failed to do so in Paris, perhaps we can dispatch him there.”

“Good idea,” Stone said. “Strategic Services will be providing personal security both here and in Paris for Marcel, and they will do a survey of his needs at the Blaise factory, as well.”

“What security arrangements have you made in New York for Marcel’s protection?”

“He is staying in my home and being driven in my car, which is armored, and being guarded by two operatives from Strategic Services whenever he leaves the house.”

“Ah, yes, the Bentley Flying Spur—a very handsome car.”

“Marcel’s Maybach is to be transported to New York by C-17, by a company in which you have an interest, then Mike Freeman’s armoring division will transform it in eight days.”

“Our C-17. Good to have some new business for it.”

Strategic had sold the company owning the C-17 to the Agency. “Give Marcel a decent price, will you? Don’t try to make the whole year’s profit on this transaction.”

“Well, I’ll see that he’s not overcharged, but he will have to pay what anyone else would pay. After all, he can afford it.”

“Now,” Stone said, “I think it would behoove you to give me some tasty morsel of intelligence to pass along to Marcel.”

“Well, let me see: I did mention that we think Majorov is coming to New York to kill him, didn’t I?”

“I’m not sure that passing that along is quite the right thing to do,” Stone replied. “Give me something more hopeful, more entertaining, even.”

“Ah, I have just the thing: one of Marcel’s German competitors, a rather unpleasant man named Horst Schnell, has suffered a financial loss of sixty million euros from a computer scam operated by our friends from SQUID. When Marcel has stopped laughing, you might mention that Strategic Services also offers an excellent computer security system. Tell Mike Freeman that we are quite willing to share what we know of how the scam operated with his tech people.”

“Now, that is the sort of information that will entrance both Marcel and Mike.”

“I thought it might. Oh, and our man Joe surveyed your house while you were out this morning, and he will be installing a very nice security system in your home tomorrow morning, early, that will include all the latest goodies.”

“Lance, if I find out that you are surveilling me with my own security system, I will be extremely annoyed.”

“Stone, it hurts me to think that you would have such an opinion of me. I should tell you, though, that there may be times when you might want such a service from us.”

“If that time comes, I’ll let you know,” Stone said.

“Oh, and Joe has put a big rush on your new windows and doors. They’ll be installed over the weekend, and Joe does very neat work, so he won’t make a mess.”

“Then I will be grateful to him,” Stone said.

“Must run,” Lance replied. “See you.” He hung up.

Stone wasn’t sure what time it was in the Stockholm archipelago, so he sent Helga a text message: Good news, Marcel’s attorneys are traveling to New York from Europe and will collect you at Grafair Aviation at Stockholm City Airport at noon, the day after tomorrow. Prior to that, Lance is providing a helicopter that will land on your front lawn at 10 AM, local time, to transport you to the airport. Try and get some rest on the airplane, because I will make you busy when you arrive. Please confirm receipt of this message. Stone.

Joan came into his office. “Joe came and went,” she said. “He’ll be back early tomorrow to install your new security system. I gave him a key, so he won’t have to wake you.”

“Good work. I’m told Joe will be installing new windows and exterior doors over the weekend, so when you come back to work on Monday morning, you will be newly safe. Perhaps I’ll take Marcel to Connecticut for the weekend, so he won’t be disturbed.”

The phone rang, and Joan went to answer it. “Mike Freeman, on one.”

“Hello, Mike.”

“Stone. Marcel is watching our video, goggle-eyed. I don’t think he knew that such a company existed.”

“Careful, or he’ll buy you,” Stone said.

“We’ll give him lunch here, then he’ll have his meeting with our design team. I’ll return him to you around five, I should think.”

“Good. I’ll give him some news then that will make him want you to protect his computer systems, so be ready to make your pitch.”

“Anything I should know first?”

“Marcel should know it first. He’ll be in touch, don’t worry.” Stone hung up and buzzed Joan. “Make us a dinner reservation at Patroon at eight, and let the security people know. I don’t want to surprise them. And ask Dino and Viv to join us.”

“Consider it done,” she said.