BooksBarbecue
Back Stealth Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOKS BY STUART WOODS
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  67. Excerpt from TREASON
  68. 1
  69. 2
  70. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  71. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Nonsense,” the FM chortled, clapping him on the back. “It’s all decided and authorized.”

—

They were called in to dinner, and Stone put the thought of a Highlands vacation out of his mind. He noticed that Felicity had left the table to use her phone for a few minutes, but that often happened.

She returned to the table. “Good news,” she said. “We’re flying some equipment and a few people up to Station Two tomorrow, and the aircraft will pick you up at your airstrip at seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Stone choked on his wine.

“I envy you the experience,” the FM said. “Just the sort of romp I’d have enjoyed in my youth.”

“I’m not all that young,” Stone said, and everyone laughed heartily.

2

Stone woke up with a warm hand cradling his genitals. He checked the narrow opening in the curtains: still dark outside.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Felicity said, climbing on top of him.

“What time is it?”

“Five AM,” she said. “You’ve time for love, breakfast, and packing. We’re starting with love.”

They spent a half hour on love, then Stone dove into a shower. When he came out, Felicity was dressed.

“I’ll call Stan to help you with the boat,” he said.

“Not to worry. My car is picking me up here in about three-quarters of an hour.”

“Call down for breakfast,” he said. “Just press the button marked Kitchen. I’ll have the usual. You have whatever you like.” He grabbed a large leather duffel, and began stuffing things into it.

“Oh,” Felicity said, “just pack what you’ll need for the return drive; Station Two will provide you with everything else.” She picked up the phone and ordered breakfast.

—

At seven AM Stone stood at the hangar on his airstrip and watched the airplane turn final. To his surprise, it was a Dakota, the British name for the American DC-3 or C-47. It touched down lightly, ran down half the runway, then turned 180 degrees and stopped where he stood. He walked toward the airplane, the propeller whipping his clothes around him. The rear door opened, and a man in fatigues, what the Brits call “battle dress,” clapped his hands together and held them out to receive Stone’s duffel. Stone climbed the ladder and was directed forward past other luggage, each with a green canvas object secured to it. There were no proper seats, so he set himself down on a sort of canvas bench that was affixed to the airplane’s bare metal. There was no insulation.