mileage?”
“Like I care. You into basketball?” Gamble used a cutter to snip off
the back end of his cigar and took a moment to light up.
“Excuse me?”
“NBA. Tall black guys running around in little shorts in return for
shitloads of money.”
“I catch it on the tube when I get a chance.”
“Well, hop in, then.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see. I promise you won’t be bored.”
Sawyer looked up and down the street and shrugged. He jostled his car
keys in his pocket and then looked at the chauffeur. “I got it, buddy.”
Sawyer pulled open the door and climbed in. When he settled back
against the leather he noted Richard Lucas in the rear-facing seat.
Sawyer inclined his head slightly. Triton’s security chief returned the
bare gesture. The Rolls pulled swiftly away.
“You want one?” Gamble held out a cigar. “Cuban. It’s against the law
to import them into this country. I think that’s why I like them so
much.”
Sawyer took the offered cigar and snipped off the end with the cutter
Gamble handed him. He looked surprised when Lucas held out a butane
lighter, but accepted the service.
He took a few quick puffs and then a long one as he got it going.
“Not bad. Guess I’ll have to give you a break on the illegal smokes.”
“Thanks tons.”
“By the way, how’d you know where I lived? I hoped you weren’t
following me. I get real jumpy when people do that.”
“I got better things to do than follow you, believe me.”
“So?”
“So what?” Gamble eyed him.
“So how’d you know where I live?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Actually, it’s a lot to me. In my line of work you don’t broadcast the
place you call home.”
“Okay, let me see, then. What did we do? Look you up in the phone
book?” Gamble abruptly shook his head and his eyes flickered amusement
at Sawyer. “No, that wasn’t it.”
“Good thing, since I don’t happen to be listed.”
“Right. Well, I guess we just knew.” Gamble blew a pair of perfect
smoke rings to the ceiling. “You know, all our computer technology.
We’re Big Brother, we know everything.” Gamble chuckled while he puffed
on his cigar and looked over at Lucas.
Lucas caught Sawyer’s eye. “Actually, Frank Hardy told us. In
confidence, of course. We don’t intend to spread that information
around. I understand your concern.” Richard Lucas paused. “Just
between us,” he added, “I was with the CIA for ten years.”
“Ah, Rich, I just had him going too.” The smell of liquor on Gamble’s
breath permeated the car. He reached across and opened a small door
built into the wood paneling of the Rolls. A well-stocked bar was
revealed. “You look like a scotch and soda man.”
“I had my fill at dinner.”
Gamble filled up an etched china glass with the contents of a bottle of
Johnnie Walker. Sawyer glanced over at Lucas, who looked on calmly
enough. Apparently this was fairly routine.
“Actually, I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you after our little chat
the other day,” said Sawyer.
“The simple answer to that is you took me down a peg and I probably
deserved it. Actually, I was testing you with my big-shot ass-hole
routine and you passed with flying colors. As you can imagine, I don’t
meet that many people with the balls big enough to do that.
When I do, I like to get better acquainted. Plus in light of recent
developments I want to talk to you about the case.”
“Recent developments?”
Gamble took a sip of his drink. “You know what I’m talking about.
Sidney Archer? New Orleans? RTG? I just got off the horn with Hardy.”
“You work pretty fast. I just left him not more than twenty minutes
ago.”
Gamble pulled a tiny portable phone from a receptacle on the Rolls’s
rear console. “Remember, Sawyer, I operate in the private sector.
You don’t move fast, you don’t move at all, get it?”
Sawyer pulled on his cigar before answering. “I’m beginning to.
By the way, you never did say where we’re going.”
“Didn’t I? Well, sit tight. We’ll be there shortly. And then we can