Unintended Consequences

police cars that had brought them there, which were in approximately the same condition as the Mercedes.
    “Anybody seen my Lincoln?” Paddy asked.
    “I think I saw it on a lower level as we came up,” Holly said.
    “Go find it, Paddy,” Dino said, and Paddy trotted off toward the ramp.
    They all turned and watched the progress of the two helicopters and found themselves witnessing a running air battle. The two machines were banking and swerving just off the beach, four or five blocks away, and the view from the five-story parking garage gave them a princely perch for watching.
    “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like this,” Stone said as the two choppers continued to exchange bursts of fire, nearly at wave height, lit by the lights of Brighton Beach and Coney Island.
    Then, as they watched, a small puff of black smoke erupted from the engine area of the Majorov machine, and it began to yaw and look less controllable. Then the chopper began a long, slow turn in toward the beach, and people began to spill from the helicopter into the sea, perhaps ten feet below. A moment later the machine vanished in a huge ball of fire as the fuel tank exploded.
    Two police helicopters now converged from the edges of the conflict and began to pick up survivors. The Black Hawk climbed a few feet and turned back toward the garage. It hovered overhead and switched on some floodlights, illuminating the top deck of the garage, then it sank slowly until it touched down and its engines were brought to idle.
    Rick LaRose hopped out of the machine and strode toward them, smiling broadly. “Everybody here okay?” he yelled.
    “We’ve got three dead,” Stone said, pointing toward Majorov’s men, whose bodies had been further ripped by the fire from the helicopter. “All opposition.”
    “Was Majorov aboard the helicopter?” Rick asked.
    “We saw him get aboard,” Stone replied. “Has his body been recovered?”
    “I haven’t heard yet,” Rick said, “but they were low enough when they abandoned ship that there should be survivors. Some of them were making for the beach when I last saw them.”
    “If they make it ashore,” Dino said, “they’ll disappear into the Russian population out here, and they’ll be tough to find.”
    “Dino,” Stone said, “if in the unhappy event that Majorov made it ashore, he will be heading for an airport as we speak, probably to his own airplane.”
    “I’ll take care of that,” Holly said, reaching for her phone. “I can order a federal presence to every airport in the greater New York area. Inside an hour or two, nobody will exit the country that we don’t want to leave.” She pressed a button and began talking.
    “Can I offer anyone a lift to the East Side Heliport?” Rick asked.
    “You bet your ass you can,” Stone said.
    The Lincoln came up the ramp with Paddy at the wheel.
    “I’ll take my car,” Dino said.
    Stone herded Holly, Helga, and Stanley toward the waiting Black Hawk.
    They were nearly there when Helga stopped. “Just a moment,” she said. “I forgot my luggage.”
    She returned to the remains of the Mercedes, rummaged in what had been the trunk, and came up with a small, tattered alligator suitcase, then she returned to the Black Hawk and was helped aboard.
    Everybody buckled in, the rotors began to spin noisily, and the big helicopter lifted off and turned toward the sea. As it turned again to follow the shoreline back to Manhattan, they could see the scattered fires and oily smoke that had been the Majorov chopper.
    “My people have recovered the black Mercedes van,” Holly said over the intercom. “I’ve asked them to meet us at the East Side Heliport.”
    “I hope this will be my last ride in that thing,” Stone said.
    •   •   •
    I t was after three in the morning before Stone and Helga made it to bed, too tired to molest each other.

59
    T hey all met for breakfast in Stone’s kitchen at around ten A.M . Stone was stiff and sore, and he expected that Helga was, too, though she seemed very happy.
    “I’ve had news this morning,” Marcel said, “that my newly armored Maybach will be at Le Bourget to meet me this evening. That will be a comfort, as will the presence of Mike Freeman’s men.”
    “I hope you won’t need them much longer,” Stone said. “Even if Majorov survived the helicopter crash, I can’t imagine that, after his experience, he would come after you or your business again.”
    “I hope you