Nelson Demille - The Lion's Game

I hate it when they faint, or bolt out the door. Half the time they think you're bill collectors.

Anyway, I didn't need to be around for this interesting moment, but then I decided I'd like to meet Chip Wiggins, just to satisfy my curiosity and see what he looked and sounded like. God, I'm convinced, looks after His most clueless and carefree creations.

A few minutes later, we could hear a car pull up in the driveway, the garage door opened, then closed, followed by the kitchen door opening, then a light went on in the kitchen.

We could hear Mr. Wiggins rummaging around the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. Finally, he said to his lady friend, "Hey, where did all this food come from?" Then, "Whose baseball hats are these? Hey, Sue, these hats say FBI."

Sue said, "I think someone was in here, Chip."

What was your first clue, sweetheart?

"Yeah," Chip agreed, maybe wondering if he had the right house.

We waited patiently for Mr. Wiggins to come into the living room.

He said, "Stay here. I'll check it out."

Chip Wiggins walked into his living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

Tom said, "Please don't be alarmed." He held up his badge case. "FBI."

Chip Wiggins looked at the four men and four women standing in his living room. He said, "Wha…?"

Chip was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and hiking boots, and looked fairly tan and fit, and younger than his age. Everyone in California looks tan and fit and young,, except people like me, who are just passing through.

Tom said, "Mr. Wiggins, we'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."

"Hey, what's this about?"

The lady friend peeked around the door jamb and said, "Chip, what's happening?"

Chip explained to her where the FBI hats had come from.

After a minute or so, Chip was seated, the lady was escorted into the TV room by Edie, and Chip was relaxed, but curious. The lady, by the way, was a knockout, but I didn't notice.

Tom began by saying, "Mr. Wiggins, this matter concerns the bombing mission you participated in on April fifteen, nineteen eighty-six."

"Oh, shit."

"We took the liberty of entering your house based on information that a Libyan terrorist-"

"Oh, shit."

"-was in the area, and was looking to harm you."

"Oh, shit."

"We have the situation under control, but I'm afraid we're going to ask you to take some time off from work, and take a vacation."

"Huh…?"

"This man is still at large."

"Shit."

Tom gave Chip some of the background, then said, "I'm afraid we have some bad news for you. Some of your squadron mates have been murdered."

"What?"

"Killed by this man, Asad Khalil." Tom gave Chip a photograph of Khalil, which he encouraged Chip to look at and to keep.

Chip stared at the photograph, put it down and said, "Who was killed?"

Tom replied, "General Waycliff and his wife-"

"Oh, my God… Terry is dead? And Gail…?"

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry. Also, Paul Grey, William Satherwaite, and James McCoy."

"Oh, my God… oh, shit… oh…"

"And, as you may know, Colonel Hambrecht was murdered in England in January."

Chip got himself under control, and the realization dawned on him that he'd had a close call with the Grim Reaper. "Holy shit…" He stood and looked around, as if trying to spot a terrorist. He said, "Where is this guy?"

"We're trying to apprehend him," Tom assured Chip. "We can stay here tonight with you, though I don't think he'll show up here, or we'll wait until you pack, and escort you-"

"I'm outta here."

"Fine."

Chip Wiggins stood in deep thought for a moment, perhaps the deepest thinking he'd done in some time, and said, "You know, I always knew… I mean, I told Bill that day, after we'd released and were heading back… I told him those bastards weren't going to let that one go… oh, shit… Bill is dead?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Bob? Bob Callum?"

"He's under close protection."

I spoke up and said to Chip, "Why don't you go visit him?"

"Yeah… good idea. He's at the Air Force Academy?"

"Yes, sir," I said,. "We can keep an eye on both of you there." And it's cheaper that way.

Well, no use hanging around, so Kate and I made our farewells, while Chip went off to pack. He looked like the kind of guy who'd loan you a pair of underwear, but he had enough on his mind.

Kate and I went outside and stood in the balmy air, waiting for Chuck. Kate observed, "Chip Wiggins is a very lucky man."

"No kidding. Did you see that babe?"

"Why do I even try to talk to you?"

"Sorry." thought a moment, then said, "Why did he need the rifle?"

"Who? Oh, you mean Khalil."

"Yeah. Khalil. Why did he need the rifle?"

"We don't know it was a rifle."

"Let's say it was. Why did he need the rifle? Not to kill Chip in his house."

"That's true. But maybe he wanted to kill him someplace else. In the woods."

"No, this guy is up close and personal. I know he talks to his victims before he kills them. Why does he need the rifle? To kill someone he can't get close to. Someone he doesn't need to talk to."

"I think you have a point there."

The car came, and we got in-me in the front, Kate in the back, Chuck at the wheel. He said, "Tough break. You want a good motel?"

"Sure. With mirrors on the ceiling."

Someone behind me smacked my head.

So, off we went, toward the ocean, where Chuck said there were a few nice motels with an ocean view.

I asked Chuck, "Is there an all-night, drive-thru underwear place in the area?"

"A what?"

"You know. Like California has all these all-night, drive-thru places. I wondered if-"

Kate said, "John, shut up. Chuck, ignore him."

As we drove, Chuck and Kate talked about logistics and scheduling for the next day.

I was thinking about Mr. Asad Khalil and our conversation. I was trying to put myself into his disturbed mind, trying to think what I'd do next if I were him.

The one thing I was sure of was that Asad Khalil was not heading home. We would hear from him again. Soon.

Chuck made a call from his cell phone and reserved us two rooms at a place called the Ventura Inn, on the beach. He used my credit card number, got the reduced government rate, and assured me it was a reimbursable expense.

Chuck handed a small paper bag to Kate and said, "I stopped and got you a toothbrush and toothpaste. If you need anything else, we can stop."

"This is fine."

"What did you get me?" I asked.

He produced another paper bag from under his seat and handed it to me, saying, "I got you some nails to chew on."

Chuckle, chuckle.

I opened the bag and found toothpaste, a toothbrush, a razor, and a travel-size can of shaving cream. "Thanks."

"On the government."

"I'm overwhelmed."

"Right."

I put the stuff in my jacket pockets. Within ten minutes we reached a high-rise building, whose marquee announced itself as the Ventura Inn Beach Resort. Chuck pulled up to the reception doors and said, "Our office will be staffed all night, so if you need anything, give a call."

I said to Chuck, "If anything pops, make sure you call us, or I'll be very, very angry."

"You're the man, John! Tom was impressed with how you got that delivery guy to voluntarily cooperate."

I said, "A little psychology goes a long way."

"To tell you the truth, there're a lot of lotus-eaters out here. It's good to see a meat-eating dinosaur once in a while."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Sort of. So, what time do you want to be picked up in the morning?"

Kate replied, "Seven-thirty."

Chuck waved and drove off.

I said to her, "Are you crazy? That's four-thirty in the morning, New York time."

"It's ten-thirty A.M., New York time."