“Like I said, I studied you in the classroom.”
“Okay, enough of this crap,” came a loud voice, and Riley Weaver made an appearance, with the FBI director and Agent Ashburn right behind.
“How did you get so totally screwed up, Friedman?” barked Weaver, pointing a stubby finger at her.
She didn’t even bother responding to him. She kept her gaze on Stone and smiled. “A man like you goes his own way. I found two other Triple Sixers who knew of the exit through the kitchen. So I knew you’d have found another way, one that only you would know.”
“Why?” asked Stone.
“Because you didn’t trust anyone other than yourself. Not even your fellow assassins. Not really.”
“What made you think that?”
“Because I never trusted anyone either. Other than myself.”
“How’d you find it?”
She looked at the men holding the guns. “Do you mind if I lower my arms? I’m getting a little stiff. You can see that I’m not armed. And even if I were, I’m a bit outgunned.”
“Just keep your hands where we can see them,” said one of the agents.
Holding her hands in front of her, she turned back to Stone and continued. “Once I knew I’d use Murder Mountain, I went over every inch of the place. The front door was to the west. The back door was to the east. One couldn’t go down. So I went up. And there it was, much like how you left it. Now I answered your question. How about mine?”
Stone looked at Chapman.
Friedman swiveled her gaze to the woman.
The MI6 agent shrugged. “Seen a bomb like that twice before in Northern Ireland. Once it was the blue wire. Once it was the red wire. My favorite color was blue. So that’s the one I snipped. Cut it pretty bloody close, though. Second to spare. Not much else we could do. But we’re here. That’s what counts.”
“Once we got safely away we detonated the bomb,” explained Stone. “Just in case you had someone in the area watching. After that it was a phone call and the rest was arranged. We were all carted away in body bags. The rest of the plan you saw today. Figured it was the only way we’d have a shot at getting to you. Making you believe your plan had worked. President Brennan worked it all out with the Russian government.”
“Neatly done.”
Stone drew closer to her. “Was it really just about the money?”
“Partly. But it was also about the thrill. To see if I could pull it off. It was quite the challenge. Even you have to admit that. When Montoya came to me, tried to recruit me, at first I pushed back. But then I thought, why the hell not? I think even you would have been tempted.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he drew back.
She looked disappointed but said, “I know that’s what motivated you. The thrill. All those years at Triple Six. You certainly didn’t do it for the money.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why then? And don’t lie and say you were merely serving your country.”
Riley Weaver snapped, “I said enough of this.” He strode forward. “You’re going to prison. But just for a short while. Then you’re going to be executed. For treason.”
“Riley, you really are so tiresome,” said Friedman as she shook her head. “You take the fun out of everything.”
The former Marine looked apoplectic. “Fun! You call what you did fun! You are a complete psycho.”
She turned back to Stone. “Why? Why did you do it?”
“I had a woman I loved. I had a daughter I cherished. I wanted to go home to them.”
Friedman didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Well, I didn’t have any of that,” she finally said.
“Okay,” said Weaver. “Cuff her and read the lady her rights. Let’s do this by the book. No mistakes. She’s not missing out on her date with a lethal injection. In fact, I think I’ll hit the trigger myself.”
She looked at him disdainfully. “I’m not going to prison and I’m certainly not being executed by you.”
Weaver smiled maliciously. “Well, lady, I’d sure as hell like to know how you’re going to avoid it.”
“I already did.”
She staggered a bit as she said this. She reached out and steadied herself by placing a hand against the door of her rental.
Stone was the first to realize what had happened.
He rushed forward and seized her left hand. He saw the pinprick of blood on the inside of her left wrist, right in the middle of a blood vessel. He grabbed her right hand and twisted it upward. The stone on the ring she wore there was gone. In its place was a short, thin needle sticking upward.
“I would be careful around that, if I were you,” Friedman said. “Nasty, extremely fast-acting stuff. Leaves old cyanide in the dust on the toxicity ladder.” Her voice was slow and her words a bit garbled. She staggered again. Stone held her up and then let her slide back against the car and descend to the ground.
They all stood looking down at her. Weaver’s face was a mask of fury.
“How?” he demanded.
Friedman smiled. “As soon as I saw him.” She pointed at Stone. “I knew it was over. So I took care of business, Riley. A good spy to the last. And all good spies go out on their own terms. Not anyone else’s.”
She looked back at Stone and drew a long, painful breath. “I bought the island.”
He said nothing.
Her chest started to heave. “I think we could have been happy there.”
Everyone looked at Stone, and then back at Friedman.
She said, “I think we could have been. Tell me we could have been.”
Stone remained silent, looking at her.
Her body clenched and then relaxed. Stone thought she had passed at that moment. But she managed to say, “We’re more alike than you’ll ever be willing to admit, John Carr.”
Now her eyes grew still. And then glazed. And Marisa Friedman slid sideways, her lovely pale cheek coming to rest against plain gravel.
Stone didn’t see this.
He had already turned and walked away.
CHAPTER 103
The Camel Club crowded around Alex Ford’s bed to see the agent staring back at them. Annabelle was gripping his hand, tears easing down her face.
Reuben and Caleb exchanged smiles. Reuben whispered to Caleb, “Remember, no flowers for the man.”
Stone moved closer to the bed and looked down at his friend. Alex still couldn’t speak and the doctors had warned that the extent of his injuries was as yet unknown because part of his brain had been impacted.
“He may fully recover. He may only partially recover,” the surgeon had told them.
“But he’ll live,” said Annabelle.
“Yes,” said the doctor. “He’s going to live.”
Stone put a hand gently on Alex’s shoulder. “It’s… good to have you back, Alex,” he said in a faltering tone.
Alex blinked back at him, his mouth remaining a thin unmoving line.
Annabelle bent her face closer to his. “We’ll be with you every step of the way, Alex, every step.”
He squeezed her hand.
Late that night Stone sat at his desk at his cottage. He had a lot to think about but really didn’t want to dwell on any of it. He had a standing offer to return to work for the government in any capacity he wanted. He’d told the FBI director he’d get back to him on that, without saying when.
Carmen Escalante had been put into WITSEC just in case Carlos Montoya decided to take out his anger on her. Stone doubted she had much to worry about. The world now knew the truth about Montoya being behind Lafayette Park and all the rest. Stone assumed the man would not be alive that much longer. Either someone in his organization would seize the opportunity and take over his cartel, the Russians would murder him for trying to pin all these crimes on them, or else the Americans would take him out.