one of our people, killed at least one other person we know about, and has probably done worse. If we get him, the lawyers can sort it out.”
“Yes, sir.”
The com clicked on: “Big Bird, this is Baker Leader.”
That was Julio, who was sitting on the estate’s side entrance, using the command-only opchan.
Kent picked up the com mike. “Go ahead, Baker Leader.”
“My people on the back gate tell me we have company. Cadillac limousine with New York vanity plate O-I–L- Y- 2, approaching the gate. About a block away.”
“Copy that, Baker. Can Baker Team give us a passenger status?”
“Negative, Big Bird. There is a driver reported in front, but the rear windows are opaqued. BT can’t tell if there are passengers.”
“Copy that.”
Kent turned to Howard, raised an eyebrow. Howard nodded.
“Baker Leader, tell BT to detain the limo and ascertain if there are any passengers who might be federal fugitives inside.”
“Roger that, Big Bird. Baker Team, you heard the man, stop ’em. I’m heading over there now. Sitrep as soon as we can. Discom.”
“It’s a risk,” Kent said to Howard. “If he’s not in the car, we’re screwed. If the Georgian is elsewhere, Cox will warn him off.”
“True. But if he is in it, we have him. That’s one of Cox’s cars, and according to what we know, he and his wife and their company usually come and go via the front gate.”
The next few minutes seemed to crawl by as slowly as a year.
Then: “Big Bird, this is Baker Leader. We have a negative on our target here. No passenger. Driver says he is here for a pick-up. We checked the trunk, too.”
Kent frowned and keyed the mike. “Copy, Baker Leader. Cut him loose and back off — if he comes back out your gate, have your team stop him again.”
“Copy.”
“Return to your station, Baker Team Leader, in case somebody tries to leave that way.”
“Yes, sir.”
Howard and Kent looked at each other. “Maybe he’s already inside,” Kent said. “And this is his ride.”
“It doesn’t stand to reason that he’s just going to get into the car and leave with a bunch of armed troops pulling limos over.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. If he’s even in there.”
Cox cradled the phone’s receiver and said, “The limo driver just pulled through the back gate. He was stopped and searched by men in military uniforms.”
Seated on the couch, Natadze nodded. “Net Force troops. They put it together. I am sorry.”
“It was not your fault,” Cox said. “Somehow, they figured out that you work for me.”
Natadze said, “My presence here is a risk for you. I must leave.”
“Won’t they be watching all the exits?”
“I will wait until dark. I will create a diversion, and leave while they deal with it.”
“A diversion,” Cox said.
“Something bright and noisy,” Natadze said. “It will draw their attention. I will take the cook’s son’s dirt bike and walk it across the fields to the north until I am well away from here.”
“What will you do?”
“Go home. They don’t know about my New York condo — it has not been under surveillance, I have made certain of that. I will release an electronic evidence packet I have to show that I have left for one of the Middle East countries with whom the United States does not have an extradition treaty. It will not be obvious, they will have to look for it, but they will come across the false trail soon enough. I will sit tight for a few days until they are gulled, then I will use a disguise and get back to dealing with the problem.”
Cox shrugged. “I leave it to you, Eduard. This is your area of expertise.”
“Yes.”
The diversion was easy. Well after dark, the rear gate opened and a car rolled slowly out. A security cam at the gate was reset to watch this.
The military watchers moved in to halt it. The car did not stop, however, and it became apparent shortly there was nobody driving it as it coasted to a stop.
Thirty seconds later, the car burst into flames.
A simple timer and a small charge attached to the gasoline tank had been enough for that.
By this time, Natadze was gone from the house, at the fence on the north side of the estate, well away from any of the gates, crouching in a stand of tall, evergreen arbor vitae.
There would be much radio traffic concerning the fire, and while the confusion roiled, Natadze cut a hole in the chain-link fence, pushed the motorbike through the gap, and quickly crossed the road and into a field whose borders were also blurred by trees. They could have watchers on all the gates, but it was highly unlikely they would have had enough men to completely surround the huge estate, and they would not have worried about somebody leaving on foot — the estate was some distance from transportation.
Thermal vision he could do nothing about. He didn’t have the equipment with him to deal with that. But even with night vision gear, it would have been difficult at best to see Natadze, who was dressed all in black, keeping a low profile, and moving as slowly as he could to avoid drawing attention.
Once he was well away from the road, he climbed onto the bike and started pedaling it, riding farther north until he came to a neighborhood street behind a water tower. There weren’t that many roads here in this part of Suffolk, but there were a couple of small airports, and MTA stations to the south on the Ronkonkoma Branch Line, and it would be easy enough to loop around and leave that way. If he hurried before they cast a net to cover those.
He knew they would cast that net, and soon. The problem with his diversion was that it had pretty much told them for sure that he had been in there. A car blowing up like that was just too convenient for them to believe it was a coincidence.
They would know he had been there, and they would realize quickly that he was gone. Whatever he did would have to be soon.
Life was not always easy, but nobody had ever told him it would be. As long as you could stay a step ahead of the Reaper? That was as much as you needed, just one step.
Howard and Kent figured it out pretty quick. Kent got on the horn and called it in. “I want a full reconnoiter on the estate’s perimeter, put spook-eyes on the scouts and tell them to look real hard.”
Julio said, “Yes, sir.”
“Discom.”
Kent turned to Howard. “He’s flown the coop.”
“I expect so.”
“He was there, John. We were right all along. And he got away.”
“For now,” Howard said. “Look, Abe, there was nothing you could have done about this. Even if we’d known — and I mean known absolutely for sure that he was in there — we would never have been able to get a warrant.”
“Stopping that car going in gave us away, and you know it. It was my call, General, and I blew it.”
“You don’t have a working crystal ball, Colonel. I called it the same. You had to check.”
“If he went over the fence and is on foot, we won’t find him with the troops we have.”
“We could call the local police in. Cover the roads.”
“He’ll steal a car, get to a ferry or airport pretty quick.”
Howard nodded. “It would be best if we could get some indication he’s out before we get the law rolling.”
