Stuart Woods - Shoot Him If He Runs

“So what do you want me to do?” Kate asked.

“Nothing. But if you decide to pass Pemberton on to the Brits for a more thorough investigation, I’d like you to conceal your source from Hugh English.”

“Hasn’t Pepper already reported his suspicions to Hugh?”

“Not yet; his hunch is only a day or so old. I could tell him, on your instructions, not to report it until you’re ready.”

“I think that’s the best course for now. I’ll get back to you. And Lance, thanks for bringing this to my attention, even though it’s outside your purview.”

Kate watched Lance leave, then sat and thought about this. She should probably discuss it with her husband, since he and the British prime minister were close. He would not want to withhold anything from the British. Well, not for very long, anyway. She’d think about it later.

Lance went back to his office and sat at his desk, gazing out at the Virginia landscape. He had covered his ass with Kate, but he was still worried about Hugh English.

The longtime deputy director for operations would have been gone now, retired to some gated Florida golf community, had it not been for the very inconvenient murder of his chosen successor, Dick Stone. English was not a favorite of the director, since he had opposed her promotion to that office. He had been subtle, having many contacts on Capitol Hill, and, since he had removed himself from the succession, his opinion carried real weight there, but she had been confirmed anyway because of the depth of influence in the Senate of her husband. Still, English’s long history with the Agency gave him broad and deep support internally, and Lance, hoping for promotion to his job, didn’t want to run afoul of the man. Now, however, he had, almost inadvertently, tossed a potential hand grenade under Hugh English’s chair, and he was worried that it might go off at an inopportune moment.

His phone rang; Holly Barker was reporting in. He picked it up. “Lance Cabot.”

“It’s Holly.”

“What have you to report?”

“Nothing; you told me to stay away from Robertson, and that’s what I’ve done. I don’t know why you’d send me down here to find Teddy, then hold me back when we’ve developed a hot lead.”

“Robertson is not your concern, Holly, until I tell you he is. Here’s what I want you to do.”

Holly punched off the satphone, then walked through the house, stripped off her clothes and joined the others on the beach.

“What?” Stone asked, seeing her face.

“Lance still won’t let us go near Robertson.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“Lying on the beach, apparently. He wants Pepper to check him out further.”

“Great,” Dino said. “I like lying on the beach better, anyway.”

“I don’t,” Holly said. She stood up, dropped her towel and ran into the sea, swimming strongly a hundred yards out. She looked back to see that Stone had followed her to the water’s edge and was keeping an eye on her. She waved for him to follow, and he entered the water and began swimming.

Holly ducked underwater and swam a few strokes, looking for the sandbar that she knew ran parallel to the beach. She found it after a moment and stood up in waist-deep water.

Stone shortly joined her. “How did you know about the bar?”

“Thomas told me. He said not to go farther out, though.” She splashed water in his face.

“Stand still,” he said.

“What?”

“Just don’t move around. Stand perfectly still.”

He was looking back toward the beach, and she followed his gaze. A large gray fin was slicing through the water inside the sandbar, between them and the beach. “Oh, shit,” she said.

“Just don’t move,” Stone replied. Slowly, he slid under the water for a moment, then, just as slowly, reemerged. “It’s a hammerhead,” he said. “A big one.”

The fin went a few yards past them, then reversed course. “How big?”

“I’m guessing fourteen, fifteen feet. Tell me you’re not having your period.”

“I’m not having my period.”

“Thank God for that; we don’t need that scent in the water.” She looked back toward the beach and saw Dino and Genevieve walk into the water and begin swimming toward them. “They’re splashing,” she said, pointing.

Stone turned and looked at the swimmers and began waving his arms. Dino waved back. Stone, with both hands, began making a pushing motion, waving them back to the beach. It took Dino a moment to understand, then he tapped Genevieve on the shoulder, and they began swimming back. They stood in knee-deep water and watched. Dino pointed out the shark’s fin to his girlfriend.

“This is ridiculous,” Holly said. “Four naked people watching a shark swim.”

“Two of them in the water with the shark,” Stone pointed out. “That’s even more ridiculous.”

“What are we going to do?” Holly asked.

“Wait for it to decide we’re uninteresting.”

“And if it has a different opinion?”

“Hit it with our fists in the eyes, which, I think, are at the ends of the hammer. I wish now I hadn’t missed that field trip to the aquarium when I was a kid. I was home with the flu.”

“I wish I had a gun,” Holly said, looking at Stone. When she looked back at the shark, the fin was gone. “Oh, shit.” She pointed.

“Oh, shit, indeed,” Stone replied. He ducked slowly under the water again, and this time he was under for a full minute before he came up again.

Holly kept looking for the fin. “Could you see it?” she asked.

“No, it vanished.”

“Vanished where?”

“I don’t know, it’s just gone.”

Holly ducked under the water and did a slow three-sixty. She wished she had goggles. She wished she had a shotgun. She came up again. “I can’t see more than thirty feet.”

“Neither could I.” Stone suddenly pointed outside the bar. The fin had reappeared, moving slowly down the beach, away from them. “I think it’s time to rejoin Dino and Genevieve,” he said. “No overhand swimming; breaststroke.”

But Holly was already swimming steadily toward the beach. She had a weird feeling that the big hammerhead was an omen, or maybe a metaphor for what might be waiting for them on St. Marks. She tried to shake off the feeling and failed.

They walked out of the water a few minutes later and flopped down on the blanket next to their friends.

“I’m exhausted,” Holly said. “Too much adrenaline; I’ve used it all up.”

“Looked like a dolphin to me,” Dino said.

Stone shook his head. “I saw it underwater; a hammerhead.”

“Eeeew,” Genevieve said.

“My feelings exactly,” Holly replied. “I’m going to shower, then I have to make a phone call.”

Twenty minutes later, she dialed Bill Pepper’s satphone number. He answered immediately. “Scrambling,” she said, and pushed the button.

“Okay, I’m scrambled, too,” Pepper said. He sounded as if he was very far away. “What do you want?”

“I’ve got new instructions from Lance,” she said.

“I don’t work for Lance, and I don’t take his instructions, unless I feel like it.”

“This is handed down from the director, bypassing Hugh English.”

“How do I know that?”

“Do you expect the director to call you?”

“Well, that hasn’t happened so far.”

“And it’s not going to happen now.”

“What are these instructions?”

“We’ve got to identify Robertson beyond question.”

“Isn’t a strong suspicion enough to call the cops, or Interpol?”

“The problem is, he may be someone else.”

“Someone else? You mean, besides the Heathrow robber?”

“This never goes to Hugh English or anyone else.”