Stone Barrington 06-11

all frequencies to try to pick up your other radio, but it won’t matter much. Just repeat all your instructions into our radio.”
    “Will do,” Stone said.
    “There’ll be a sharpshooter on board. If you think it’s worth the risk, just hit the dirt at any time, and pull Arrington down with you, if she’s there, and he’ll start firing. Don’t get up until everybody is dead.”
    “Got it.”
    “Is Dino with you?”
    “Yes.”
    “Let me speak to him.”
    Stone handed the phone to Dino.
    Dino listened. “I got you,” he said, and handed the phone back.
    Stone took the phone back, and he could hear a helicopter’s engine whining as it started up. “I’m ready.”

    “I hope so,” Lance said. “Go and get into the car; you’ve got five minutes before you open the garage door.”
    “Goodbye, Lance.”
    “You’re going to have to play your end by ear, Stone. Good luck.” Lance hung up.
    “He told me not to get my people involved,” Dino said.
    “I think it’s best that way.” Stone looked at his watch. “Four minutes.”
    “I’m going to go and make sure the garage door is working right,” Dino said. “I’ll leave that way. Good luck.” He slapped Stone on the back and was gone.
    Stone sat next to Peter on the kitchen table. “I have to leave again for a while,” he said. “But I’ll be back later, and if there’s still daylight, I’ll take you to Central Park.”
    “Okay,” Peter said.
    “Did I mention they have a zoo?”
    “No, really? Do they have lions?”
    “They sure do.”
    “Oh, boy!”
    Stone kissed the boy. “Corey will take care of you. See you later.”
    “Bye-bye, Stone.”
    McGonigle handed Stone a small handheld radio. “It’s on, and it’s on the correct frequency.” Then he picked up Billy Bob’s radio, removed the back, placed a chip about two inches square inside and closed it. “That will let Lance track you.” He handed it to Stone.
    Stone took the radio and walked through the house to his car. Dino had left the garage door open. He got in and started the engine. A minute to go.
    At the appointed minute, he put the car into reverse and backed out of the garage, closing the door behind him with the remote control. Then he almost panicked. He had forgotten to turn on Billy Bob’s radio. He switched it on, and immediately heard the voice.

    “Stone? Are you there?”
    Stone pressed the transmit button. “I’m here, Billy Bob.”
    “Get headed east. I’ll give you more directions in a minute.”
    “Right.” Stone got headed east. Stone didn’t pray much, but he prayed now.

49
    STONE TURNED OFF Third Avenue onto Forty-eighth Street and headed east.
    “Take a left on First Avenue,” Billy Bob said.
    Stone turned left on First, then picked up Lance’s radio. “I’m headed up First Avenue in my car,” he said.
    “Roger,” Lance replied.
    Stone drove on for another dozen blocks.
    “Get on the FDR Drive, going north,” Billy Bob said.
    Stone made the turn and got onto the drive. “I’m on the FDR, heading north,” he said into Lance’s radio.
    “Roger,” Lance replied.
    Traffic was light, and he moved well. He picked up a radio. “Lance, do you have me in sight?”
    “Roger,” Lance said. “We’re in what looks like a news copter. We’ve got you in sight, so there’s no need to report again. If we lose you, I’ll call. Relax.”
    Stone tried to relax.
    “Turn onto the Triborough Bridge,” Billy Bob said, “and keep left.”
    Stone breezed through the tollbooth, because of the E-ZPass device on his windshield, and moved over to the left lane.
    “Follow the signs to Randall’s Island,” Billy Bob said.

    Randall’s Island is in the East River; Stone had never been there. He drove down the ramp and approached an intersection.
    “Turn right.”
    Stone turned right.
    “Follow the road.”
    It was like having a talking GPS navigator in the car. He was driving past a series of baseball diamonds. He had never known they were there.
    “After the traffic circle, turn into Field One Twenty-one,” Billy Bob said.
    Stone went around the traffic circle, came out and followed a sign to 121.
    “Pull under the bleacher cover, get out of the car and leave the radio,” Billy Bob said. “Leave your other radio, too.”
    Stone picked up Lance’s radio. “I’m at baseball diamond number one twenty-one on Randall’s Island. I have to leave your radio here. Billy Bob thinks I had another radio, so be prepared for some sort