the left, connecting the poles. There were dozens,
scores
of them, forming a semicircle on the rock-hewn shoreline. Photoelectric cells! Catching the rays of the sun from dawn to high noon and beyond. Searching farther, he found a thick, central cable that led into the tropical forest. He started to follow it when he heard the words, spoken clearly, harshly, in English behind him.
“Are you looking for someone?” asked the mid-deep voice. “If you are, you’ve gone about it amateurishly.”
“Mr. Scofield, I presume.”
“Since we’re not in Africa, and you’re not Henry Stanley, you may presume correctly. Keep your hands above your head and walk straight forward. It’s our cable path, so use your light, because if you break it, I’ll blow your head off. It took me too long to put it together.”
“I come in peace, Mr. Scofield, without any intent to divulge your whereabouts,” said Pryce, walking carefully ahead. “We want information we think only you can provide.”
“Let’s wait until we reach the house, Mr. Cameron Pryce.”
“You know who I
am
?”
“Certainly. They say you’re the best, probably betterthan I ever was.… Put your hands down. The palm leaves get in your face.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Scofield suddenly shouted, “It’s
okay
. Turn on the lights, Antonia. He was clever enough to find us, so open a bottle of wine.”
The clearing in the forest was suddenly illuminated by two floodlights revealing a large one-story cabin of tropical wood, a natural lagoon on the right.
“My
God
, it’s beautiful!” cried the CIA agent.
“It took us a long time to find this place and longer to build it.”
“You built it yourself?”
“Hell, no. My lady designed it, and I boated in crews from St. Kitts and other islands to do the work. Since I paid them half in advance, no one took offense at the blindfolds out of Tortola. Just discretion, young man.”
“Young and not so young,” broke in Cameron, in awe.
“Depends where you’re coming from, fella,” said Scofield, walking into the light. His thin, narrow face was framed by a short white beard and longish gray hair, but his eyes were bright, youthful behind his steel-rimmed glasses. “We like it.”
“You’re so alone—”
“Not really. Toni and I frequently take the ‘butt’ over to Tortola, grab an interisland to ’Rico, and a flight to Miami or even New York. Like you, if you’ve got a brain in your head, I have half a dozen passports that get me through.”
“I don’t have a brain in my head,” acknowledged Pryce.
“Get one. Maybe you’ll find someday that’s all you’ve got. After you’ve appropriated a few hundred thousand in contingency funds. Placed in off-shore investments, of course.”
“
You
did that?”
“Have you any idea what our pensions allow us? Maybe a condominium in Newark in the lesser part of town. I wasn’t going to settle for that. I deserved more.”
“The
Matarese?
” said Cameron softly. “It’s back.”
“That’s out of
orbit
, Pryce. An old boy in D.C. called meand said that he heard you were looking for me—yes, I’ve got the same kind of phones you have,
and
the generators,
and
the security, but you’re not going to drag me back into that hell.”
“We don’t want to drag you back, sir, we only want the truth as you know it.”
Scofield did not reply. Instead, as they had reached the short steps to the cabin’s entrance, he said, “Come on inside and get out of that outfit. You look like Spider-Man.”
“I’ve got clothes in my bag.”
“I used to carry one of those. Change of shorts and a garrote, a lightweight jacket and a couple of weapons, maybe some underwear and a hunting knife. Also whiskey, can’t forget the whiskey.”
“I’ve got bourbon—”
“Then the D.C. boys are right. You’ve got possibilities.”
The inside of the cabin—more than a cabin, a medium-sized house, really—was nearly all white, accentuated by
scores
of them, forming a semicircle on the rock-hewn shoreline. Photoelectric cells! Catching the rays of the sun from dawn to high noon and beyond. Searching farther, he found a thick, central cable that led into the tropical forest. He started to follow it when he heard the words, spoken clearly, harshly, in English behind him.
“Are you looking for someone?” asked the mid-deep voice. “If you are, you’ve gone about it amateurishly.”
“Mr. Scofield, I presume.”
“Since we’re not in Africa, and you’re not Henry Stanley, you may presume correctly. Keep your hands above your head and walk straight forward. It’s our cable path, so use your light, because if you break it, I’ll blow your head off. It took me too long to put it together.”
“I come in peace, Mr. Scofield, without any intent to divulge your whereabouts,” said Pryce, walking carefully ahead. “We want information we think only you can provide.”
“Let’s wait until we reach the house, Mr. Cameron Pryce.”
“You know who I
am
?”
“Certainly. They say you’re the best, probably betterthan I ever was.… Put your hands down. The palm leaves get in your face.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Scofield suddenly shouted, “It’s
okay
. Turn on the lights, Antonia. He was clever enough to find us, so open a bottle of wine.”
The clearing in the forest was suddenly illuminated by two floodlights revealing a large one-story cabin of tropical wood, a natural lagoon on the right.
“My
God
, it’s beautiful!” cried the CIA agent.
“It took us a long time to find this place and longer to build it.”
“You built it yourself?”
“Hell, no. My lady designed it, and I boated in crews from St. Kitts and other islands to do the work. Since I paid them half in advance, no one took offense at the blindfolds out of Tortola. Just discretion, young man.”
“Young and not so young,” broke in Cameron, in awe.
“Depends where you’re coming from, fella,” said Scofield, walking into the light. His thin, narrow face was framed by a short white beard and longish gray hair, but his eyes were bright, youthful behind his steel-rimmed glasses. “We like it.”
“You’re so alone—”
“Not really. Toni and I frequently take the ‘butt’ over to Tortola, grab an interisland to ’Rico, and a flight to Miami or even New York. Like you, if you’ve got a brain in your head, I have half a dozen passports that get me through.”
“I don’t have a brain in my head,” acknowledged Pryce.
“Get one. Maybe you’ll find someday that’s all you’ve got. After you’ve appropriated a few hundred thousand in contingency funds. Placed in off-shore investments, of course.”
“
You
did that?”
“Have you any idea what our pensions allow us? Maybe a condominium in Newark in the lesser part of town. I wasn’t going to settle for that. I deserved more.”
“The
Matarese?
” said Cameron softly. “It’s back.”
“That’s out of
orbit
, Pryce. An old boy in D.C. called meand said that he heard you were looking for me—yes, I’ve got the same kind of phones you have,
and
the generators,
and
the security, but you’re not going to drag me back into that hell.”
“We don’t want to drag you back, sir, we only want the truth as you know it.”
Scofield did not reply. Instead, as they had reached the short steps to the cabin’s entrance, he said, “Come on inside and get out of that outfit. You look like Spider-Man.”
“I’ve got clothes in my bag.”
“I used to carry one of those. Change of shorts and a garrote, a lightweight jacket and a couple of weapons, maybe some underwear and a hunting knife. Also whiskey, can’t forget the whiskey.”
“I’ve got bourbon—”
“Then the D.C. boys are right. You’ve got possibilities.”
The inside of the cabin—more than a cabin, a medium-sized house, really—was nearly all white, accentuated by
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