“Now that’s a good idea! I’ll talk with him about it on the plane home.”

“I expect you’re going to need to have a conversation with the mayor, too.”

“Right. I want to make sure he picks the right successor. I don’t want some ass in the job, rolling back everything I’ve done, and I don’t want my going to affect his plans for running for reelection.”

“Let me sweeten the deal for you,” Stone said.

“You go right ahead and do that.”

“You and Viv are welcome for as long as you like in all my houses—L.A., Maine, Paris, and Windward.”

“That is, indeed, very sweet.”

In due course, Gala appeared, they said their goodbyes and left for the airport. They drove into the CIA hangar and were met by the manager.

“We had some people snooping around this morning,” the man said.

“What people and what kind of snooping?”

“Two men tried to talk their way into the hangar. They got nowhere, of course, but they were asking about you. You know anything about that?”

“Was one of them a big bald guy?”

“Yes.”

“I know what’s behind it—it’s personal, nothing to do with you folks. The problem will be resolved with my departure, and we’re ready to go, as soon as I get a preflight inspection done. I’ve already filed a flight plan.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready to taxi.”

“Will do.” Stone loaded their luggage and began his preflight. Half an hour later they were being towed from the big hangar onto the ramp. Stone looked around for signs of Tirov’s minions: there were various vehicles parked nearby but none that looked particularly threatening. I hope, he thought, that nobody’s lurking in the weeds with a shoulder-fired missile. He consoled himself with the idea that not even Tirov could be that stupid.

Stone got his clearance and was cleared to taxi to the runway. That took ten minutes, and he kept a sharp eye out for threats of any sort. He was cleared for takeoff as they reached the runway, so he did a rolling start, advancing the throttles and starting his takeoff roll as he turned onto the centerline. Half a minute later they were climbing out of Ciampino, unmolested. Stone breathed a sigh of relief.

—

England came into view an hour and a half later, green and pleasant in the clear air and sunshine, as they descended over the Channel. They set down and taxied toward the hangar, and Stone saw Bob jump down from the Range Rover and run toward them. He cut the engines immediately to avoid accidents. As soon as Stone had the door open, Bob ran up the stairs to greet them. “Home again,” Stone said.

“I’ve come to think of it that way, too,” Gala replied.

23