Phil Tucker was on the balcony when Billie came through. The Muscle, having maintained his position as pack leader, disappeared into his exercise area.
'Hi Phil,' she welcomed him. They had already met the night before and had dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe in La Jolla Village. Tucker had taken her through the events that led up to their meeting, but had deliberately avoided any reference to the computer and its problems. They had agreed that the Englishman was there because of his field experience, he would be useful if things turned violent. 'One of their heavies,' Tucker had remarked during the evening. 'To be used as required.'
'Hi. Our guest arrived okay?'
'Yes. Not at all what I expected.'
He looked quizzically at her, but decided not to push her as he sensed her antagonism. 'This sure is a nice place to live. Some views. Makes waking up that much easier, huh?'
'It does.' She looked out over the coastline, looked at the surf breaking.
'It's snowing in Washington. We had three feet of it before I left.'
'Well, you certainly came prepared for California,' she joked, remembering how she had met him at the airport, he with an overcoat over his arm, a high necked sweater under his suit and a scarf draped round his neck.
'I still don't believe it's seventy degrees. Seems wrong at Christmas time. Where's he gone?'
'Having a quick wash. He knows you're here.'
They stayed on the balcony until Adam joined them ten minutes later. He'd decided to change and the tailored jeans and blazer had been replaced by a monogrammed, button down pink shirt, black tailored Bermuda shorts with turn ups and knife edge creases, and tanned legs disappearing into black slip on calf leather shoes. His gold Ebel watch dangled on his right arm, below the cuffs which were rolled halfway up his elbow,
European beach chic was not what the Americans expected of the SAS, even in southern California.
'You're Adam?' said a surprised Tucker, moving forward with his arm outstretched in welcome.
'Mr Tucker?'
'Call me Phil. Everyone else does.' They shook hands and Adam liked the American immediately, felt the confidence and warmth in the handshake. 'Flight okay?'
'No problems.'
'Good. Guess you're pretty tired.'
'Not really.' There was no need to add that four hours sleep was a luxury, that he had often gone days without resting in the course of his duties.
'That's great. Means we can get straight down to business.' Tucker pulled up a chair at the table and sat down, the other two following him. 'So what did London tell you? '
Adam repeated what the briefing officer had briefed and about the contents of the folder he had read afterwards.
'That all?'
'That's all.'
Tucker thought for a moment; the Englishman knew less than he had expected. 'We think there's a leak inside the Agency. If someone's trying to get to Trimmler, we don't want to warn them about our plans.'
'Who do I see about weapons?'
'Weapons?'
'I was told I was to be armed.'
'What do you need?'
'A standard 9mm Browning High Power semi automatic for starts.'
'Okay. What else?'
'A Heckler and Koch MP5K sub-machine gun.'
'That's powerful shit. Why? '
'I like to play safe. And because it's the shortest barrel available. In this case, we might just need something that's good at close quarters.'
'What unit were you with?'
'CRW.'
'CRW?'
'Counter Revolutionary Warfare Wing. Don't worry. I know how to handle the hardware.' Adam's answer mocked Tucker, but the American ignored it. 'What's next?'
'Get some rest. Tomorrow we go to a wedding.'
'Wedding?'
'Trimmler's a guest. At the Torrey Pines Sheraton. Just down the road from here. It's the sort of public place they might decide to hit him. We'll keep an eye out and then meet him later on. He's at the Mirimar Air Base at present. At least we know he's safe there. But, after tomorrow, we might just arrange for him to go home. Maybe even get you to stay there. Well, that's it for tonight.'
'I suppose you'll both want something to eat?' said Billie, standing up.
'Hey, thanks. That sounds good.'
'Not for me, thank you.' The last thing Adam wanted was a pleasant evening at home with Muscle and his companions. 'I'll go into La Jolla. Have a look round. Seems a nice place.' He stood up from the table. 'Can I call a taxi or get a hire car someplace?'
'Use mine,' snapped Billie.
'Thank you.'
'No sweat. I'm sure they'll all see you coming.' Her sarcasm was lost on Tucker, who didn't know of their earlier conversation. She stood up. 'I'll get the key. Are you going to be late?'
'I don't know. Probably not.'
'I'll give you a front door key as well.'
'Something I missed?' asked Tucker when she left.
'No.'
'You two seem pretty cool towards each other.'
'We get on just fine,' said Adam and left to follow the woman.
It was the last thing Tucker wanted. His first field assignment and two operatives who couldn't get on. Shit, life really was a bitch.
It was nearly four in the morning when Billie heard the key being twisted in the front door lock, heard the door open and close quietly.
She lay next to Gary whose snoring was akin to a rumbling express train going through a long dark tunnel. It didn't normally keep her awake, she had got used to it over the months. But the Englishman had irritated her with his rudeness. She had prepared a meal for him and Tucker, but he had disappeared before she had had a chance to tell him.
But it wasn't that which got under her skin, after all he could be excused for not knowing about the meal.
What really upset her was the way he was using her home as a hotel.
If this assignment hadn't been as important as it was, she would have had his bags packed and waiting by the front door.
She pushed Gary's arm away and slid out of the bed, picking up her robe from the end and wrapping it around herself.
Adam was about to enter his room when she came into the hallway.
'You're back,' she said softly, instantly feeling like an irate parent scolding a naughty child as she spoke.
'Yes,' he replied. 'Great place. Great action. Been to the Singing Canary.' It was a night club on the outskirts of La Jolla.
He held his hand out and she saw he held a mixture of yellow and red roses.
'They're pretty,' she said, softening immediately as she imagined the offering was for her.
'Aren't they? I've never had a girl give me roses before. Very Californian. Goodnight.'
His door had closed on her before she could answer. She felt foolish. Why the hell did she think that rude bastard would bring her roses?
Ch. 21
Adam waited for Billie and Phil Tucker outside Cornes, the big Rolls Royce and Ferrari dealership on the Mirimar Road.
The Mirimar Road runs from the downtown area of La Jolla town, not to be confused with La Jolla itself which is the beach front village to the west, and through the commercial area and out past the Mirimar Air Base to the east. This stretch of modern tower office blocks, billboards and single storey shops, showrooms and eating houses, is over four miles long. Like all American commercial centres, it is a mixture of urban sprawl, disorganised architecture, modern shopping malls and a thousand billboards and signs blasting their own visions of the American Dream.
They had gone to the Hertz Rent-a-Car outlet in the commercial area to hire a less conspicuous car than Billie's Renegade. Adam, knowing he had time to kill, had wandered past the Porsche and Jaguar dealerships to Cornes. His passionate interest in cars led him to the Ferraris that filled the showroom window and he was soon in conversation with an attentive salesman about the merits of the various models.