Stone got into his coat. “It’ll have to wait.”

“Oh, I remember: the accountants said it wasn’t Peter Collins that stole the money.”

Stone stared at Herbie. “Already? Who did they say it was?”

“David.”

“How much did David steal?” Stone asked.

“A little over a million dollars,” Herbie replied.

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. I’m sure Jack Gunn can write a check for that.”

“No, I’m sorry, it was a little over a billion.”

Stone’s jaw dropped. “Well, those three little zeros make a difference, don’t they?”

“I guess.”

“Gotta run, Herbie,” Stone said, making for the door.

Stone had trouble getting a cab, and traffic was bad, so he was five minutes late arriving at Mike Freeman’s office. The secretary told him to go in, and when he did he found Mike talking with someone Stone knew.

“Come in, Stone,” Freeman said. “I’d like you to meet Lance Cabot.”

“We’ve met,” Lance said drily. Lance was the deputy director of intelligence for operations at the Central Intelligence Agency.

“How are you, Lance?” Stone asked, shaking his hand. He was tempted to check his wallet.

“Very well, Stone,” Lance replied, sitting back down. “I’m surprised to run into you at Strategic Services.”

“That makes two of us,” Stone said, taking a seat.

“How do you two know each other?” Freeman asked.

Stone started to reply, but Lance beat him to it. “We’ve had dealings in the past,” he said casually.

“Mike,” Stone said, “this is a business meeting, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Well, I’m afraid I have to declare an interest.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Lance said.

Stone ignored him. “Some time ago I signed a consultant’s agreement with Lance’s employer, and I’ve done some odd jobs for him.”

Lance reddened slightly. “I don’t think it’s necessary to—”

“Lance, perhaps you’d better release me from that agreement if I’m going to represent Strategic Services in its dealings with you. Is that what you have in mind, Mike?”

“Yes, it is,” Freeman replied.

“Well, Lance, do you release me from our agreement?”

Lance’s look could have burned a hole through cardboard. “Yes, I release you—but only for the purposes of business associated with Strategic Services.”

“I guess that’s good enough for me,” Freeman said.

It wasn’t good enough for Stone, but he didn’t want to make anything more of it. He had the feeling that this was going to come back and bite him in the ass.

NINE

Lance turned his attention from Stone to Mike Freeman. “Mike,” he said, “the Agency is contemplating outsourcing some of our operations.”

“Oh?” Freeman answered.

“Yes. What with Iraq, Afghanistan, and the war on terror at home, we’re starting to get stretched pretty thin.”

“I can understand that,” Freeman said.

“The war on terror at home?” Stone interjected. “Doesn’t your charter prevent the Agency from operating at home?”

Lance crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. “Our purview is expanded to domestic when the president authorizes it.”