Stone - 25 - Collateral Damage

then came to dinner. Habib had ordered in. He held her chair; the food was Indian.
    “Wine?” she asked.
    “I’m Muslim, aren’t you?”
    “Not your kind of Muslim,” she replied. “Send somebody out for it—a nice California Chardonnay will do.”
    Habib gave the order, and the wine was back in ten minutes. “May we dine now?” he asked.
    “Of course.” Jasmine opened the bottle, so Habib wouldn’t be sullied, and poured herself a large glass, then she helped herself to the food. “It’s good,” she said.
    “I think you should leave New York,” Habib said. “There will be a very great search for you.”
    “Certainly not. I have work to do here. Let’s have another look at your list.”
    Habib got up and brought the list.
    Jasmine took a sip of her wine and consulted the paper. “These buildings are too secure. We got lucky at the CIA place.”
    “They’ll be expecting you to bomb those sorts of places,” he said.
    “I want something different, but something that still hurts. Let’s go back to the CIA building.”
    “We can’t do that,” Habib said.
    “We can do whatever we wish,” Jasmine replied, trying not to sound too sharp. Habib was not accustomed to being bossed around by women, after all. “Send someone to the neighborhood, someone who won’t be noticed. Have him watch the people who leave at lunchtime.”
    “All right. We’ve had a report that the woman from the CIA sent to London after the attack at the embassy has left London and returned to New York.”
    “How do we know this?”
    “A spotter at London City Airport recorded the landing from the States of a Gulfstream 450 jet which we have seen deliver CIA personnel in the past. The following morning a man and a woman boarded that aircraft, which flew to Teterboro, New Jersey, according to the flight plan filed.” Habib put a photograph of the two on the table. “She was seen leaving the Connaught Hotel an hour before it took off. We believe she boarded the airplane. The name on the manifest was H. Barker, and there’s a Holly Barker high up at the CIA.”
    “So you had plenty of time to place someone at Teterboro, didn’t you?”
    “Teterboro is a different basket of fish than London City. It’s the largest and busiest general aviation airport in the United States, and it has half a dozen places—they call them FBOs—where the airplane could park. We confirmed that the airplane landed, but our observer was off the field and had to guess where it parked from the direction it taxied.”
    “And?”
    “He went to Jet Aviation and through the fence saw a black SUV, such as the CIA uses, be allowed onto the ramp, which is unusual. Suspecting it was a government vehicle, he followed it into the city, where it made a stop in the East Forties, letting a man out, then continued. Unfortunately, our man lost contact with the car when it continued, but it was not so far from the CIA building.”
    “This place in the East Forties—what was it?”
    “A town house, in a neighborhood called Turtle Bay.”
    “Who lives there?”
    “We think the man who flew with Barker, but we’re not sure.”
    “Have the house watched,” she said, “along with the CIA building.”
    “It will be done.”
    “I want to know what connection the woman from the CIA has with the man who lives there.”
    Habib nodded.
    “How many bombs do we have available?”
    “One, assembled. We can obtain materials for as many as we need.”
    “Assemble a second bomb,” Jasmine said.
    —
    Stone and Holly sat at a corner table at Patroon, Stone’s new favorite restaurant. He missed the clublike atmosphere and the regulars at Elaine’s, but the food was good here and the atmosphere warm and inviting.
    “How bad was it?” Stone asked.
    “Not nearly as bad as it might have been,” Holly said. “We built the building, and we built it to survive an explosion virtually intact.”
    “Is it Jasmine?”
    “Of course it is. I had a meeting with the police commissioner and the AIC from the FBI’s local office, and I explained about her, but I’m not sure they bought it. The FBI was slow to circulate her photo, and she made it into the country. That drives me crazy!”
    “Does Jasmine know who you are?”
    “I have no reason to think so,” Holly replied. “She knows who the director is, though, and I’ve warned her to stop driving to work and take the helicopter instead.”
    “Sounds like good advice.”
    “It’s all I can do. We’re no