Page 57 of Stuart Woods' Golden Hour

He then called Lance.

“Good afternoon.” In the background of the CIA director’s voice was the muffled drone of helicopter rotors.

“Not catching you at a bad time, am I?”

“Perfect, actually. I’m on my way to New York for brunch with my Japanese counterpart. How can I help you?”

“By not setting up meetings for me without checking with me ahead of time.”

“I take it you’ve heard from Rick La Rose.”

“I have.”

“I thought it best he touch base with you after today’s unpleasantness. He’s also the one who’s been overseeing the investigation into Owen Pace’s death, so he might have information that could be useful to you.”

“Which brings us back to why I called.”

“Yes, yes. Clear it with you first. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Does La Rose know about Golden Hour?”

“He does. He’s been assisting me since I first started suspecting something was up.”

“He left his note for Billy Barnett. Is that who he’s expecting to see?”

“No. I told him Billy is just an intermediary and would pass the message on.”

“Then whodoeshe think he’s going to meet?”

“I haven’t told him your secret, if that’s what you’re asking. I used the same cover story I did with Rogers, that you’re a freelancer with knowledge of Golden Hour.”

“And if he does figure it out?”

“Handle it however you think appropriate, short of killing him, of course. I’d rather not have to replace him.”

“How trustworthy is he?”

“There are few I trust more.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t trust anyone.”

“True. Like I said, handle it how you want.”

“What I want is not to be dealing with any of this and just enjoy the PR tour.”

“Please, we both know no one enjoys those tours. Besides, your conscience wouldn’t let you do nothing.”

That was true, though it didn’t help him feel any less annoyed. “It’s always a pleasure, Lance.”

20

Before leaving the hotel forhis meeting with Rick La Rose, Teddy altered his appearance to look as unmemorable as possible. He then donned a pair of jeans, a black hoodie, and a black New York Yankees baseball cap that he wore low over his eyes.

He sent Vesna a picture of what he looked like with a text that read:

Heading out

She replied with a thumbs-up.

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