Page 95 of Near Miss

“Stretching calls for another drink,” Dino said, waving his glass at Stone.

Stone complied, and Dino sipped.

“What about the meeting with the FBI?” Carly asked. “Did I remember all that for no reason?”

“Your memory was used as intended. What Peter told the FBI didn’t go away just because he switched sides. As for his relationship with the feds, he has requested a grace period from Kinder, to clean things up.”

“And Assistant Director Kinder went for this?” Viv asked.

“That remains to be seen.”

“My money is on a big fat no,” Dino said.

“My money is staying firmly in the bank,” Stone said.

Dino took a drink, then said, “So, what are we going to do with ourselves on this little vacation, besides watch our asses?”

“What you usually do,” Stone said. “Sail or go motorboating, shoot skeet, fish, swim in the sea—like that.”

“At least half of those activities are precluded by the local water temperature,” Dino said.

“Get used to it. It’s not going to change.”

“Something occurs to me concerning safety,” Viv said.

“What is it?” Stone asked.

“You better let Ed Rawls know about this semi-truce you have with Peter G. before he shoots the man’s eye out.”

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll bet that’s Ed,” Dino said. “The scent of single-malt Scotch has reached his house.”

Stone peered through the peephole, then opened the door. “Speak of the devil.”

“The devil drinks brown whisky,” Rawls said, handing Stone his shotgun, as another man might hand him his umbrella, which he was also carrying and handed over. “So, you’re talking about me already?”

“We couldn’t help ourselves,” Dino said.

“Take a seat and be briefed,” Stone said. Rawls did so.

“Is the war over?” Rawls asked.

“How prescient of you to ask,” Stone said. “Peter G. has assumed Gromyko’s former position. He is calling off the mob’s dogs and taking his operations legit.”

“Well, shit,” Rawls said. “How am I going to entertain myself?”

“Just keep on doing what you’re doing, until we get the all-clear.”

“You mean keep shooting Russians?”

“No, unless violently provoked.”

Ed took a big swig of his Scotch. “No fun at all, eh?”

As the group chatted on, Stone got up, retrieved an umbrella from the holder near the front door and exited the house onto the back porch. He took a seat in a damp, Weatherend love seat, and was soon joined by Carly.

“Hey, there,” she said.

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