He sent that to McManus’s e-mail address. It wasn’t necessary for him to say he knew who McManus was — that he was able to send him a message told the guy that. And that he referred to the long-ago match was enough to show the man that he knew why McManus was dogging him. A smart man would back away. Even a fairly thick one would see the writing on the wall.
If McManus kept sending his crap, he couldn’t say he hadn’t been given a chance. He didn’t want to use his position as a personal hammer, but Thorn had the right of every other citizen when it came to harassment, and while he would undoubtedly get a faster response because of who he was, he had the right to see that McManus didn’t keep bothering him. What the man was doing
Given the situation with Jay, this was a minor irritant, but at least it was one about which he could do something. Now, back to the problem at hand.
21
Natadze had taken an early morning commuter jet from the District to New York, picked up a rental car at the airport, then driven to Cox’s estate. Even though his employer’s private phones were fitted with the latest in scrambling devices, there were some things they simply did not discuss except when they were alone, and in a room that had been swept for bugs.
Who was to say that the company who made the scrambler had not made a way to unscramble it at their desire? And that they had not provided that way to somebody with an interest in such cloaked conversations? One knew that the government lied to its citizens on a daily basis about so many things, and, under the guise of national security, would snoop anywhere it wished. It had been more than a decade since the United States lost its innocence and joined the rest of the world’s harsher reality.
Cox’s study at his home was a safe room — shielded against stray radio or microwaves, checked daily for listening devices, with triple-paned windows polarized and vibratored to thwart lasers or directional microphones that might possibly be aimed at them from miles away, however unlikely that was.
What could not be seen or heard could not come back to haunt you.
Natadze sat on the brown leather couch, Cox in one of his form-chairs.
“Do you have any questions?”
Natadze shook his head. “No, sir. I understand my mission. I am to find out what the Russians have, to the limits of the Doctor’s knowledge — where that information might be found, who has it, how it might be accessed — and then I am to find and delete everything.”
“Including the Doctor.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t want any mistakes this time, Eduard.”
“There will be none.”
Cox nodded. “Good. Have you given the matter of Net Force any further thought?”
“I have. I am considering ways to make certain no problems arise from that end again.”
“Good. I leave it in your hands, Eduard.”
When he opened his eyes, Jay saw Saji sitting in a chair three feet away. She smiled at him. He could smell her, a rich, warm, musky scent. And his vision and hearing both seemed much sharper, too — the light was actinic and bright, the hum and click of the systems monitor next to his bed seemed unusually loud.
Standing behind his wife’s chair was Toni Michaels.
“Hey, Jay,” Saji said.
“Hey, Little Momma,” he said. “Are we having fun yet?”
Her smile grew, and Toni’s grin lit at the same time.
“Finally. What do you need to know?” Saji said.
“Did they get the guy who shot me?”
“Not yet.”
“How long was I out?”
“A few days. More than a couple, less than thirty.”
He nodded. “Hey, Toni. I thought you were gone.”
“We forgot something, had to come back.” To Saji, she said, “I’m going to go call Alex and John.”
Saji nodded. “Good.”
The door to the hospital room opened and a nurse hurried in as Toni departed.
The nurse, a short, dark-skinned woman of maybe fifty, said, “Mr. Gridley. Awake at last.”
“That would be me, yes.”
The nurse came over, checked the monitor next to the bed, and smiled. “Dr. Grayson will want to have a word with you. Stay right there, would you?”
“That would be me, staying right here.”
The nurse took off, and Saji reached over the bed’s railing and took his hand. “I knew you’d be back.”
“Good that you did. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to make it. I’ve been trying for what seems like forever.”
“You knew you were in a coma?”
“Yeah. I figured it out after a while. Anything else broke but my brain?” He put his hand on his head, felt a bandage patch.
“Nope. And the head injury wasn’t all that bad. All that solid bone.”
Jay grinned. “How are you doing?”
“Me? I’m fine.”
“But you’re pregnant. We haven’t had a chance to talk about that.”
Saji smiled. “We will have plenty of time to talk about it,” she said.
“It’s weird, thinking about having a baby. A new person.”
“Yes.”
“But I’m happy about it,” he said. “Really.”
“Me, too.”
They sat there for a few seconds, just beaming at each other. The door opened and Toni slipped back into the room. Saji turned to look at her.
“I called Alex. He and John are on the way. Alex said he would call work and let everybody know.” She smiled at Jay. “You’ve had a parade of visitors in here the last week.”
“All come to look at Vegetable Boy?” he said.
“Yep. Some of them wanted to cover you with fertilizer, help you grow and all.”
“So, not that I’m feeling vengeful or anything, but why haven’t they caught the crazed road-rage guy who shot me?”
Toni said, “Well, it turns out that it wasn’t road rage. There was a bug on your car, and current thinking is that the guy was following you.”
Jay paused. “Why?”
“Don’t have that part yet. Maybe you angered somebody with your sparkling personality.”
Jay started to shake his head, but found that hurt. “I don’t believe I have any enemies who’d want to shoot me. Certainly nobody comes to mind.”
“If it’s not personal then it’s business. Something you worked on, something you are currently working on.”
Jay thought about that for a few seconds, but he was too muzzy to concentrate. And he felt tired all of a sudden.
Saji caught it. “Just rest, Jay. We’ll get all the other stuff sorted out later.”
