Nelson Demille: The Lion's Game

Kate's family were real WASPs, the minister was a Methodist, and a stand-up comedian. He made me promise to love, honor, and never again mention the X-Files.

It was a double ring ceremony; one ring for Kate's finger, one ring through my nose. I guess that's enough marriage jokes. In fact, I've been told that's enough.

Midwestern WASPs come in two varieties-wet and dry. These people were into the sauce, so we got along really well. Pop was an okay guy, Mom was a looker, and so was Sis. My mother and father told them lots of stories about me, which they thought were funny as opposed to abnormal. This was going to be all right.

In any case, Kate and I did a week in Atlantic City, then a week along the California coast. We'd arranged to meet Gene Barlet at Rancho del Cielo, and the drive up into the mountains was a lot nicer than the last time. So was the ranch, looking better in the sunlight, sans sniper.

We went back to the boulder, which looked much smaller than I remembered it. Gene took photos, including an R-rated shot of Kate's wound, and we gathered up some stone chips at Gene's insistence.

Gene pointed to the distant treeline and said, "We found fifty-two shell casings on the ground. I've never heard of so many shots being fired by a sniper at two people. That guy really wanted what he couldn't have."

I think he was telling us that the game wasn't over. The treeline was making me a little nervous, so we moved on. Gene showed us where Ted Nash had been found on a riding trail, less than a hundred meters from the VORTAC, with a single round through his forehead. I have no idea where Ted was going, or what he was doing there in the first place, and we'd never know.

Considering we were on our honeymoon, I suggested we'd seen enough, and we went back to the ranch house, had a Coke, ate a few jelly beans, and moved on to points north.

We had left Kate's cell phone back in New York, not wanting any calls from friends or assassins on our honeymoon. But just as a precaution, we both brought our guns along.

You never know.

Because of the nature of the material in this novel, some of the individuals whom I would like to thank here have asked to remain anonymous. I respect that request, and acknowledge their contributions with gratitude.

I would like to thank, first of all, Thomas Block, childhood friend, US Airways captain, Flying magazine contributing editor, co-author of Mayday, and author of six other novels, for his invaluable assistance with "airplane stuff" and other stuff. As always, Tom came through when I was up in the air without a propeller.

Thanks, too, to Sharon Block, former Braniff International and US Airways flight attendant, for reading the manuscript and taking my side in editorial arguments with her husband.

Special thanks to Joint Terrorist Task Force members, and good friends NYPD Detectives Kenny Hieb and John Gallagher (ret.), and also to Detective Tom Pistone for his connections.

Very special thanks to a good friend, and former Port Authority cop, and Guns and Hoses guy, Frank Madonna, for sharing his expertise, and for his patience. Thanks, too, to Guns and Hoses men Detective Donald McMahon, Police Officer Bobby Yarzab, and all the men and women I met at John F. Kennedy International Airport, who took the time to show me around and answer dumb questions.

The section of this novel concerning the American air raid on Libya could not have been written without the help of Norm Gandia, captain, United States Navy (ret.). Norm is a Vietnam combat veteran, a former Blue Angel, a good friend, and a light drinker. Thanks, too, to Al Krish, lieutenant colonel, United States Air Force (ret.), for putting me in the cockpit of the F -111.

I'm grateful to the staff of the Young America's Foundation for taking the time to give me a private tour of the Ronald Reagan ranch. Special thanks to Ron Robinson, president of the foundation, Marc Short, executive director of the Ronald Reagan ranch, and Kristen Short, director of development of the ranch. Many thanks, too, to John Barletta, former head of the Presidential Secret Service detail. John's professionalism and dedication are too rare in today's world.

Once again, thanks to librarians Laura Flanagan and Martin Bowe, who did wonderful research and helped me with pesky details that only a librarian could have the patience and knowledge to ferret out.

Thanks, too, to Daniel Starer, Research for Writers. This is the fifth novel that Dan has helped me with and by now he knows what I need before I know I need it.

This novel could truly not have been written without the help, dedication, and infinite patience of my assistants, Dianne Francis and Georgia Leon. It's not easy working with a writer on a daily basis, but Dianne and Georgia make my life easier. Thanks.

If it's difficult to work with a writer, it's not much fun to live with one while he's writing. That job goes to my wife, Ginny, who has the patience of a saint, and the editing skills equal to the task of editing a man who can neither spell, punctuate, nor diagram a sentence. As always, many, many thank-yous, and much love.

Once again, as with Plum Island, a million thanks to Lieutenant John Kennedy, Nassau County Police Department. As a cop and a lawyer, John keeps my fictitious cops honest, and keeps the author honest as well. With JK on the case, the truth triumphs.

The Long Island Cradle of Aviation Museum is a new, world-class facility, honoring the men and women who have made, and continue to make, America first in flight, and best in aeronautical and space science. I'd like to thank Edward J. Smits (planning coordinator), Gary Monti (deputy planning coordinator), Joshua Stoff (curator), and Gerald S. Kessler (president, Friends for Long Island's Heritage), for taking the time to show me the facility, and sharing with me their vision.

Facts, procedures, advice, and details that were given to me may at times have been misconstrued, forgotten, or ignored, and therefore all the errors of omission and commission are mine alone.

I'd also like to take this opportunity to acknowledge the people at Warner Books and Time Warner AudioBooks for their hard work, support, dedication, and friendship: Dan Ambrosio, Chris Barba, Emi Battaglia, Carolyn Clarke, Ana Crespo, Maureen Mahon Egen, Letty Ferrando, Sarah Ford, Jimmy Franco, David Goldstein, Jan Kardys, Sharon Krassney, Diane Luger, Tom Maciag, Peter Mauceri, Judy McGuinn, Jackie Merri Meyer, Martha Otis, Jennifer Romanello, Judy Rosenblatt, Carol Ross, Bill Sarnoff, Ann Schwartz, Maja Thomas, Karen Torres, Nancy Wiese, and last but not least, Harvey-Jane Kowal, world's toughest copy editor.

Also, my thanks to Fred Chase, the last word on hyphens, commas, place names, facts, and etceteras.

Blessed is the author with a good editor, and I have been twice blessed with Larry Kirshbaum and Jamie Raab, whose skills are more than equal to the task.

My fifteen years and seven novels with Warner Books have been at various times happy and interesting, contentious and tense, very successful, always fun and never boring. You're all Number One.

And finally, my agent and friend for the last 20 years or so, Nick Ellison. It would take another volume to discuss this relationship, but in four words-Love Ya Big Guy.

Debra Del Vecchio and Stacy Moll have made generous contributions to Long Island charities in return for having their names used as characters in this novel. I hope they enjoy their fictitious alter egos, and that they continue their good work for worthy causes.