Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

hundred grand a year and a package of benefits, including health insurance.”
    “Then I accept,” Tim said.
    “He’s an enthusiastic pilot. I’m starting his instrument training tomorrow in my airplane, a JetPROP, and as soon as we’re done with that, you can start giving him all the time he can handle in the Mustang. Flight Safety will want him to have some turbine time before he trains.”
    “Not only can I do that, but there’s a training outfit on the field that’s bought a Mustang simulator from Flight Safety, so he can do his training here. They’ve got a night class to teach the ground school, and simulator training starts the first of the month. The biggest part of it is learning the avionics.”
    Teddy gave him Peter’s card. “You can start by getting the utilities and phone switched to his company name, B&B Productions, and you can call Atlantic and ask them to tow my airplane over here. It’s going to live in the hangar, along with the Mustang.”
    Tim sat down at his desk and picked up the phone. “What a relief! The wife is going to love it!”
    “Oh, and get a cleaning service over here to clean the hangar and the apartment upstairs. I may be using it, myself.”
    “I forgot to show you the pilot’s lounge,” Tim said. “It’s in the back left corner, and it has a computer station that connects to weather planning and Flight Services. There are a couple of reclining chairs for visiting pilots and a big-screen TV to keep them entertained while they’re waiting.”
    “Good, I can use that for giving Peter ground school.”
    “Are you type-rated for the Mustang?”
    “No, just the 535 series of Citation jets, but I have the same Garmin 1000 software in my airplane, so getting typed wouldn’t be much of a jump, and that will be a help to Peter, since the Mustang has the same avionics.”
    “I’ll get you type-rated. If you can learn the operator’s manual description of the systems, we can do it with some simulator time, a few hours of dual, and a checkride, and there’s an FAA examiner on the field.”
    “Great, Tim.”
    Teddy’s airplane arrived, and was backed into the hangar, leaving room for the Mustang. Teddy pulled his Porsche Speedster inside, too.
    •   •   •
    Teddy sat down in the pilot’s lounge and thought. If Majorov didn’t know where to find him, as Harry Katz had said, why would he be coming to L.A.? And if Teddy wasn’t his target, that left Peter. He looked at his watch; Majorov’s G-450 was due in shortly. He went to his airplane and got some things, including a pair of binoculars that had a built-in camera, from his equipment case and left the hangar. He found an out-of-the-way perch at one side of the Atlantic Aviation ramp and waited.
    •   •   •
    Majorov pulled a file from his briefcase and handed it to the man who sat across the folding desk from him. They were half an hour out of Santa Monica and descending. “Mr. Chernensky,” he began.
    “Call me Vlad, please,” the man said, in Russian.
    “This is the material I have on the people who are your targets. There is a young man named Peter Barrington and his father, Stone Barrington. Young Peter does something in the movies, I’m not sure what, but I expect he lives in his father’s house at The Arrington. Security is very tight there. His father is a New York lawyer who is very influential on the board of The Arrington and is the key to my gaining control. He is based in New York, and when his son is dead, I feel he will be much more likely to wish to sell his interest in the hotel, and at my price.
    “The third man is named William J. Burnett and is known as Billy. You should regard him as extremely dangerous.”
    “I regard all targets as extremely dangerous,” Vlad replied. “No one is a lamb if he knows he is hunted. Does Mr. Burnett know he is hunted?”
    “Yes, but it’s likely he feels that recent events have made him safe.”
    “Do you mean your leaving Las Vegas?”
    “Yes.”
    “Why should he be concerned with whether or not you are in Las Vegas, if he is in Los Angeles?”
    “I sent two men, on separate occasions, to deal with him. They both are dead. One of them was my sister’s boy. Neither of them was stupid.”
    “I see. I will keep those facts in mind. On the other hand, he does not know me, does he?”
    “Certainly not.”
    “He will not expect someone of my age and mien of being an assassin.”
    “Perhaps not—I cannot say. But you