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Back Below the Belt Save as PDF
Chapters (67)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  66. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  67. What’s next onyour reading list?

“We were surveilling the Parker residence in Cape May when a large black SUV drove into their garage, apparently loaded them up, then departed. We followed the SUV to Jet Aviation at Teterboro, where it drove into a hangar owned by Strategic Services. The family apparently got aboard a large Gulfstream jet, which was towed out of the hangar and is taxiing as we speak. The jet has filed a flight plan for Brussels.”

“Brussels? Why would they go to Brussels?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Are you sure the family is aboard?”

“I haven’t had eyes on them, but all signs point to their presence. What are your instructions?”

“Do you have contacts in Brussels?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have the airplane met and the family identified as being on board, then followed to their destination.”

“Yes, sir.” Macher began looking up a Brussels number.

—

HANK PARKER LOOKED around the big airplane. He, his wife and son sat in a group of four seats, all buckled in.

“This is fantastic, Dad!” Tommy said.

“It sure is.”

“Where are we going again?”

“To England. I’ll show you on the map as soon as the seat belt sign goes off.”

The airplane taxied onto a runway, and the engine noise increased. Hank was pressed into his seat from the acceleration, and a moment later they lifted off, and he heard the landing gear come up. Half an hour later the airplane was above the clouds and leveling off. The seat belt sign went off.

Hank got out a map he’d taken from an atlas and unfolded it. “You see this town right here? It’s called Bewley, but it’s spelled the French way. We’re headed for a big estate just south of the town, and it has its own landing strip.”

Mike Freeman, who had introduced himself when they boarded, walked over to their seats. “We’re at fifty-one thousand feet now, headed for England, with a hundred-and-fifty-knot tailwind. Would you folks like some breakfast?”

“We ate at home,” Hank said, “but Marty and I could use some coffee.”

“I’ll send it over.” He walked forward, toward the cockpit.

A moment later a flight attendant appeared with coffee on a tray.

When she had gone, Marty said, “I feel better now—there’s no way they could find us where we’re going.”

“You’re right,” Hank said, but in his heart, he wasn’t sure about that.

51

STONE WATCHED THE TRACKING APP on his computer until the Gulfstream was at cruising altitude, then went back to work. Joan came in with a FedEx envelope.

“This came for you from Cape May, New Jersey,” she said, setting it on his desk. “You open it.”

“Getting nervous?” Stone asked.

“You betcha.”

Stone unzipped the envelope and removed an unlabeled DVD with a Post-it stuck to it. Thought this might come in useful. Hank.