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Even before Sarge received word through Asimov that the police would be watching the lawyer’s route to the event, he’d discarded the idea of going after Barrington on the streets. There were too many factors the Sarge couldn’t control to make it viable, if he were to honor Asimov’s request to see Barrington before he was killed. Chief among them was Barrington’s armored vehicle.

The voice of the spotter came over the radio again, “They just passed. Barrington’s in the back seat with the same woman we’ve seen going into and out of his place. His normal driver is behind the wheel.”

“Copy,” Sarge said. He switched the radio to the frequency setting used by the rest of the team. “This is the Sarge. The target is en route.”

Immediately after the Sarge’s announcement, one of the guys in the back seat of the Ford crew cab pickup parked behind the van said, “I guess this is really happening.”

The Corporal, who sat in the driver’s seat, shot him a look in the rearview mirror and said, “Can it.” He then nodded at the man in the front passenger seat, the guy called Dial.

Teddy Fay picked up the microphone and said, “Team two, copy.”

Chapter 68

The motorcade made it to the hotel without trouble. As Fred pulled the Bentley into the hotel garage, Ray’s voice came over the radio. “The elevators are just ahead. Stop when you reach them. But no one get out until I give you the okay.”

Fred stopped where he’d been told, and the sedans escorting them did the same. Several Strategic Services men piled out of each vehicle. Half took up positions around the Bentley, while the other half spread out through the area.

Finally, Ray knocked on the window beside Stone, signaling for Fred to disengage the locks, which he did.

When Stone and Carly exited the Bentley, four bodyguards fell in around them.

“This way,” Ray said and led the entourage to the elevators.

It was a tight fit, and Stone could feel Carly fidgeting beside him. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Not a fan of crowded elevators,” she said.

“Apologies,” Ray said. “We’ll be there soon.”

“Be thankful you’re not Holly Barker,” Stone said. “It’s like this for her all the time.”

“I can’t be president until I’m thirty-five, so I still have a few years to get used to it.”

“Let no one ever say you lack confidence.”

Soon, the door opened on the seventh floor and revealed four more bodyguards standing outside.

“This might be overkill,” Stone said to Ray.

“Mr. Freeman thought you might say that. He told me to tell you, ‘better overkill than being killed.’ ” Ray guided them through a service corridor to an unmarked door. “The dining room is through here. You are sitting at table number one. It’s center front, near the stage.”

“You’re not coming in with us?” Carly asked.

“No, ma’am,” Ray said. “We have several people inside already. When you want to leave, let one of them know, and I will meet you here with my team.” He opened the door. “Have a wonderful evening.”

A server made his way around the ballroom with a bottle of wine, topping off the glasses of the attendees who had arrived early, and filling those for the guests who had just found their seats.

“More sauvignon blanc?” he asked an elderly woman sitting at table eleven.

“Please,” she said.

He filled her glass, her third already. As he moved to the next guest, he caught movement in the corner of the room. A man and a woman had just entered the ballroom, dressed respectively in a tux and a blue dress with a slit that showed an impressive amount of thigh. Though they were obviously guests, they had come in through a doorway that connected to a staff-only area, instead of using one of the main entrances.

The server moved to the next table, where he filled another glass before stealing a peek at the new arrivals. This time he was sure of who they were.

“Can I get some of that?” a man a few seats away asked.

The server smiled sympathetically. “Of course, but I need to get a new bottle first.”

The man pointed at the one in his hand. “It looks like there’s enough in there for another glass.”

The server smiled again. “I’ll be right back.”

He walked away before the guest could say anything else, leaving the ballroom through the first door he came to. He checked to make sure no one was watching him, then pulled out his phone and sent a text that read: Target in ballroom.

The radio in the truck came back to life with the sound of the Sarge’s voice. “All teams to your positions.”

The Corporal started the engine, then followed the van as it began to move.

“Check your gear,” the Corporal ordered.

Teddy removed his Sig Sauer P320 Nitron 9mm from his shoulder holster, checked the magazine and chamber, then attached the silencer, and set the weapon in his lap.

If the Corporal had been less secretive about the scale of the operation, Teddy could have ended the threat before they’d gotten to this point. But missing a vital piece of the puzzle could have resulted in Stone losing his life. That would be mission fail for Teddy.

The van and truck entered the alley behind the hotel where the banquet was being held.

“Come in team three,” the Sarge said over the radio.

“Go for team three.”

“Status?”

“Everyone is in the ballroom. Ready when you are.”

“Team four,” the Sarge said.

“Go for team four.”

“Start the countdown.”

“Copy. Starting countdown. T-minus ninety seconds.”

The van stopped next to a loading dock at the back of the hotel, and the truck pulled in behind it.

“Sixty seconds,” the man from team four announced.

“Radios on, night vision ready,” the Corporal said, “and everyone out.”

Teddy donned his earbud and night vision goggles, tilting the latter up so they were off his eyes, then he exited the truck with the others. More men climbed out of the van, including the Sarge.

This was the closest Teddy had been able to get to him so far, but he still wasn’t close enough.

The Sarge motioned everyone to a door on the dock, and they all jogged into position.

Over the radio came, “Fifteen seconds.”

The Sarge looked around. “No mistakes.”

The men answered with nods.

“Five... four... three... two... one...”

Chapter 69

In the ballroom, Bill Eggers and Herb Fisher smiled as Stone and Carly walked up to table number one.

“Stone,” Bill said, “we were starting to wonder if we would ever see you again.”

“What?” Stone said. “And deprive you of my charm? Never.” He shook Bill’s hand. “Congratulations on being honored tonight.”

“I think it was the only way they could get me to come to the dinner,” Bill said.

“You and me both.”

“Count me in on that,” Herb Fisher said.

Bill turned to Carly. “And here’s our rising star. Good evening, Carly.”

“Good evening.”

“Carly, don’t you have something to tell Herb?” Stone said.

Bill’s brow creased. “No one’s tried to poach you away from us already, have they?”

“Not officially.”

Her answer did not assuage Bill’s concern.

“Lance Cabot made an inquiry,” Stone said, “but I told him in no uncertain terms she was not available.”

“It’s my understanding he can be tenacious,” Bill said.

“He can be, but so can I. If he does talk to her, Carly and I have already agreed to have a very serious conversation about what a job with Lance would mean.” Stone smiled at Carly. “Isn’t that right?”