Stuart Woods - Dirty Work

"Thank you, Felicity," Sir Edward said. "I'll take it from here." He turned to Stone. "Mr. Barrington, I believe you are familiar with recent events involving a young woman by the name of Marie-Therese du Bois."

"Somewhat," Stone said.

"And you know that we have been trying to protect certain of our personnel from certain actions of this woman."

"You mean, you're trying to stop her from killing your people?"

Sir Edward looked around to be sure he was not being overheard. "One might say that, though perhaps not quite so baldly."

"Sir Edward, I am an American, not a diplomat, and we are sometimes, as a people, blunt. I think this conversation might go better if you keep that in mind."

"Quite," Sir Edward replied, seeming a little miffed.

"What is it you want of me?"

"It is my understanding that you are representing the woman in certain matters?"

"She has retained me for legal advice."

"Then you are in touch with her?"

"That may be possible."

"I should like to meet with her."

Stone nearly choked on his wine. "You astonish me, Sir Edward, given the history of her meetings with members of your service."

"I am aware that she harbors ill feelings toward us."

"Then you are aware that she would probably enjoy killing you on sight."

"Quite."

"Sir Edward, I think that what you propose is out of the question, given the current state of relations between you and my client."

"It is the relations between us that I would like to discuss."

"Frankly, I cannot imagine a setting where such a meeting could take place, given your separate concerns for security."

"I would be willing to meet with her alone in a place of her choosing, as long as it is a public place."

"Sir Edward, do you intend to propose some sort of truce between your service and my client?"

"Something like that."

Stone shook his head. "For such a meeting to take place, I think there would have to be a level of trust that does not exist on either side."

"I have already said that I am willing to meet with her alone."

"If you'll forgive me, I don't find that a credible proposal."

Sir Edward looked irritated. "And why not?"

"I think my client would view such a meeting as nothing more than an opportunity for your people to kill her."

"Nonsense. I'm willing to give her my word."

"I'm not sure that, given her experience with your service, that would impress her."

Sir Edward looked as if he would like to plunge his fish knife into Stone's chest.

"Surely you can understand that," Stone said.

"Speak to your client," Sir Edward said.

"And tell her what, exactly?"

"Tell her that we are willing to come to an accommodation."

"Make a proposal."

"We stop trying to kill each other. If we can agree that, then I can arrange for all record of her to be removed from our databases and those of other European services."

"Permanently?"

"We would retain a record, off-line, so that, if she should violate our agreement, we could circulate it again."

"And if you should violate it?"

"That, sir, is not in question." Sir Edward shifted in his seat, and his tone became more conciliatory. "Please understand that my service has never before undertaken such an accommodation with… an opponent. We are doing so now only because, in you, Mr. Barrington, we suddenly have a conduit to the opposition. You may tell that we respect her motives, but we believe that it is in the interest of both parties to bring a halt to this madness."

"I'll see what I can do," Stone said.

Stone walked back to his house, deep in thought. He did not trust Sir Edward Fieldstone's intentions, and the man's word was not enough. He had visions of some sniper drawing a bead on Marie-Therese's head as she and Sir Edward negotiated in some public place. He got out his cell phone and dialed the number.

She answered immediately. "Yes?"

"It's Stone Barrington."

"Be brief. I don't want to be scanned."

"I need to meet with you again. I have news."

A brief silence. "Go to Rockefeller Center again, at six o'clock this evening. I'll be in touch." She hung up without waiting for a reply.

Stone pressed the redial button.

"Yes?"

"Be very careful. Do you understand? I don't know if I'm being followed."

"I'm always very careful." She cut the connection.

Stone was at the skating rink on time. Ten minutes passed before his cell phone rang. "Hello?"

"Were you followed?"

"Not by anyone I could spot."

"Are you any good at spotting a tail?"

"Fairly good."

"Walk to Central Park. Go up Fifth Avenue, against the traffic. Cross the street at least three times, checking for a multiple tail. There'll be at least four of them. Once in the park, sit on a bench outside the Children's Zoo." She hung up.

Stone walked briskly up Fifth Avenue, stopping now and then to check the reflection in a shop window. He crossed the street four times, looking for a repetition in the faces around him, but he saw none. He strolled slowly through the park to the Children's Zoo and sat down on a bench. His cell phone rang immediately. "Yes?"

"Walk to the Wollman skating rink." She hung up.

Stone walked to the rink, stopping frequently to look at the zoo's animals and checking for a tail. He still saw no one. At the rink, his cell phone rang again. "Yes?"

"Go to the carousel, buy a ticket. Don't ride a horse, you'll look ridiculous. Sit on a bench." She hung up.

Stone did as he was told, mixing among the children and their nannies. The carousel had made three revolutions before she sat down beside him. Her hair was long and dark, and she wore a tweed suit and bright red lipstick.

"Good afternoon," she said.

"Good evening. I assume I wasn't followed."

"Only by me. There was no one else on you. Why did you call?" Her accent was American now.

"Do you know who Sir Edward Fieldstone is?"

"Architect? Of course."

"I had lunch with him today, at his request."

She looked surprised. "And how did this come about?"

"A friend of mine works for him. I told her I had spoken to you."

"I suppose that is not a breach of client confidentiality."

"He wants to meet with you."

She laughed. "I'll bet he does."

"I think you should consider this carefully. He says he's willing to meet you, alone, in a place of your choosing, as long as it's a public place. I expect you're thinking there'll be a sniper on a rooftop."

"You're psychic, Stone. What does he want?"

"He wants a truce."

She blinked a few times. "He actually said that?"

"To the extent that you can get an upper-class Englishman to say anything explicit, yes."

"On what terms?"

"You stop killing his people, his people stop trying to kill you. He'll remove all traces of you from British and European intelligence computers, keeping only backup files, in case you renege."

"What if he reneges?"

"I asked him that, but I didn't get a straight answer. Presumably, you could go back to killing his people."

"I don't get it. Why would he stop trying to kill me?"

"So far, you've killed, what, half a dozen of his people? And he hasn't even killed you once. He's losing, and he knows it."

"It's unlike him to relent," she said. "In Northern Ireland he had a reputation of never giving up until he got his man. Or woman."

"Maybe he's getting old. He's got to be in his mid-sixties. Maybe his fires are cooling."

"Maybe. I doubt it."

"Marie-Therese, how long do you think you can continue like this before you end up in somebody's gunsights?"

"As long as I want to."

"Don't you ever get a hankering for a more normal life?"

"What, husband? Children?"