Unintended Consequences - By Stuart Woods

56





Paddy, Dino’s driver, followed Stanley’s directions, whipping around corners and dodging pedestrians.

“We’ve lost Helga’s phone again,” Holly said, “but it had stopped moving.”

“We’ll continue to the last fix,” Stanley said. “Hang a right, Paddy, then pull over on the right.”

Paddy put the big car into a four-wheel drift, then slammed on the brakes.

“Here,” Stanley said.

The building took up half the block; no signs or numbers, and the windows were painted over. There were two steel garage doors, and one of them had a smaller entry door next to it.

“Okay,” Dino said. “Stone, you’re unarmed—you stay in the car, you hear me?”

“Oh, all right,” Stone said.

“Paddy, you’re with us. As I recall, you have some lockpicking skills, right?”

“Yessir.”

Everybody got out, except Stone and Stanley.

“F*ck this,” Stanley said, half to himself, then got out of the car, reaching for his pistol.

Stone continued to behave himself.

Dino stood over Paddy, willing him to hurry with the lock. Three minutes, and they were in. He looked over his shoulder to see if Stone was staying put. He was.

“Everybody behind me,” Dino said. He opened the door and looked inside. The group flooded in behind him. A gray Ford van was the only object visible in the empty building. They surrounded it, then opened the doors. Paddy reached inside and came up with an iPhone.

“Cell right here,” he said.

“Then we’re f*cked,” Holly said. “We have no means of tracking them. We don’t even know what they’re driving.”

“Then we’ll just have to take to the streets like everybody else,” Dino said. “Let’s go.”

They hurried back to the door and stepped into the street.

“What the f*ck?” Dino yelled.

The Lincoln was gone.

“Stone got himself taken! Paddy, get on the radio and put an APB out for my car, and get us another couple of vehicles, pronto!”

“Dino,” Holly said, “this is the best thing that could have happened.”

“What are you talking about?” Dino demanded.

“Stone has the same cell phone as Helga—one of ours. We can track it.” She called her base and gave the instructions.

• • •

Stone sat between the two large Russians, one of whom had a pistol with a silencer jammed uncomfortably in his ribs. He was in the rear seat of a tan van, and Helga was in the seat ahead of him. He had tried to talk to her, but every time he opened his mouth, the big Russian next to him stuck his pistol into it. They had searched him perfunctorily for a gun, and not finding one had gone no further. They hadn’t bothered with his cell phone, and he figured that was the best chance he and Helga had. They had taken the Lincoln, which followed behind, stranding Dino and Holly.

They had driven only a few blocks when the driver turned into a parking garage. They drove up the spiral ramp five stories, tires squealing, and emerged onto a rooftop, where a black Mercedes S-class sedan awaited. It was dark, but the rooftop was dotted here and there with lights. Yuri Majorov was leaning on the Mercedes, holding a briefcase and talking on his cell phone.

First Helga, then Stone were hustled out of the van and presented to the big Russian. Majorov first glared at Stone, then smiled a little.

“Well, Mr. Barrington,” he said, putting away his phone, “you have given me quite a chase.”

“Fun, wasn’t it?” Stone asked. The man behind him with the pistol rapped him sharply on the head. “You know,” Stone said, “unless you take these apes in hand, you’re just going to slow down the process.”

“What process is that?” Majorov asked.

“You must have something in mind, or we wouldn’t all be here, would we?”

Majorov held up a hand before the man could hit Stone again. “All right, all right,” he said. “Now to business.”

“I thought you’d never get around to it,” Stone said. “Your message said me for her. I’m here, let her go.”

“First, we have some formalities to complete.” He set his briefcase on the hood of the Mercedes and opened it.

“You don’t need her for formalities,” Stone said. “Let her go now.”

“Mr. Barrington, you are hardly in a position to give me orders,” Majorov said irritably.

Stone didn’t bother to reply.

“Now,” Majorov said, taking a sheaf of neatly printed documents from the briefcase. “I will need your signature in a dozen or so places.”

“For what?” Stone asked.

“We are going to execute a transfer of your stock in The Arrington Corporation to a company that I own in Paris, then a sum of money will be transferred to whatever bank account you wish. Miss Becker will witness your signature.” He nodded to the man standing next to Helga; he produced a switchblade knife and cut the bonds that held her hands behind her back. She held up her limp hands. “My hands are numb,” she said to Majorov. “I can’t hold a pen.”

Majorov sighed and spoke to the man with the switchblade. “Massage her wrists.”

The man closed the knife and tucked it into his belt, then did as he was told.

While they were occupied with Helga’s circulation, Stone took a moment to look around. At one end of the building, perhaps thirty feet away, was the top end of a steel ladder, hooked across the building’s parapet. Fire escape; the only way down, except for the ramp they had driven up. He looked at Helga; she had spotted it, too.

Stone looked around them for weapons. The man behind him still had the silenced pistol, and the man massaging Helga’s wrists had the switchblade, but those were the only weapons in evidence. He had no doubt, though, that the others were well armed. If he could get his hands on the silenced pistol, he might get off three or four shots before anybody could get ahold of a weapon and fire back, but he was going to need some sort of distraction.

Helga, thoughtfully, provided that. Her guard had stopped massaging and pulled out the switchblade again. She lifted a leg and drove the six-inch spike heel of her shoe through his shoe and foot. He screamed and let go of the knife, which Helga caught before it hit the ground. She grabbed him by the hair, jerked him around, and stood behind him, the knife to his throat. “Now, please, everyone will throw the guns over the edge of the building.”

Majorov turned to the man with the silenced pistol and jerked his head toward the man with the knife to his throat. The man raised his pistol and shot his colleague in the chest. Helga held him on his feet for protection.

Stone seized the moment, grabbed the pistol by the silencer, and wrenched it from the man’s hand. Then things began to happen very fast.