beside her, stretching his legs from an early-morning run.
“I guess we’re wealthy,” she joked, referring to the diamonds they had liberated from Alec Specter.
“Very funny.”
“I’ve decided to go with you,” she said, her tone serious.
“To Europe?”
“No. The North Pole. Where do you think?”
“Why?”
“I don’t feel comfortable being here alone. If I am going to be hunted, I’d rather have you at my side. Besides, I was thinking of going to Belgium by way of Paris.”
“That’s sweet. Alright with me.”
Kate went into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast while James made a call to an old friend. Having known each other for several years, James and Thomas Lynch had met at a time when James was becoming involved in Special Operations. These sometimes required advisory roles played by influential people.
In his late-thirties, Lynch had been a regular fixture of the Washington scene for a long time. An only child, he was born into a position of wealth and privilege, and when his parents passed away in recent years, the bright young man was left with a considerable fortune.
Since then, Lynch Industries had grown rapidly. He had leveraged a handful of companies built by his father, both in government contracting and the oil industry.
Thomas Lynch was a very wealthy man.
Charming and handsome, he and James had been drinking buddies prior to James’ marriage to Kate. Meanwhile Lynch had remained single.
And while Thomas Lynch enjoyed the life of a jet-setting playboy, he was an active philanthropist, making sizable donations to a variety of prominent charitable organizations around the nation’s capital, and in the process gaining a position in Washington society. Having been appointed by the President as the United States Ambassador to France, he enjoyed certain privileges applying only to persons of his position. Specifically, relaxed Customs procedures for American diplomats at private jet terminals—exactly what Kate and James needed.
“How are you, James?” Thomas began, pleased to be getting a call from his close friend.
“Good thanks.”
James tried to keep the conversation casual.
“How’s Kate?”
“Fine, never better.”
They talked for a few minutes, covering a variety of topics. When James mentioned his plans for traveling to Europe, Thomas generously offered the use of a plane owned by Lynch Industries, a Challenger 605. It’s range was more than four-thousand miles, allowing for trips across the Atlantic.
“Take the Challenger,” Thomas insisted, not interested in asking a lot of questions. By now, he had grown accustomed to his friend’s unconventional lifestyle.
When James told Kate about the kind gesture, she asked whether Lynch would be joining them on the crossing.
Somewhat puzzled by the question, he turned and looked at her. “No. It’ll just be the two of us, and the crew, of course.”
Before they packed the luggage, James inserted the diamonds—two hundred gems in all—inside a pair of half-inch diameter round tubes. Both were painted black to match one of the suitcases. Placing caps over the ends of the tubes, he situated the thin cylinders in the suitcase so that, to a casual observer, they appeared to be a part of the bag’s metal frame.
“What about the FBI,” Kate said. “They might knock on the door of the townhouse and find we’ve gone.”
“It’s only for a day or so. We’ll just have to chance it.”
At Dulles International Airport, a taxi delivered the couple to a tarmac where the Challenger was parked beside a private jet terminal. It was an impressive sight; the aircraft had been polished to a bright luster, the mid-morning sun glistening off its sleek exterior. Two customs agents drove up in a van, checking passports and conducting a brief cursory inspection of the plane’s interior. James presented falsified documents for Kate and himself. After an agent looked them over, they scurried up the stairs and entered the
“I guess we’re wealthy,” she joked, referring to the diamonds they had liberated from Alec Specter.
“Very funny.”
“I’ve decided to go with you,” she said, her tone serious.
“To Europe?”
“No. The North Pole. Where do you think?”
“Why?”
“I don’t feel comfortable being here alone. If I am going to be hunted, I’d rather have you at my side. Besides, I was thinking of going to Belgium by way of Paris.”
“That’s sweet. Alright with me.”
Kate went into the kitchen and began preparing breakfast while James made a call to an old friend. Having known each other for several years, James and Thomas Lynch had met at a time when James was becoming involved in Special Operations. These sometimes required advisory roles played by influential people.
In his late-thirties, Lynch had been a regular fixture of the Washington scene for a long time. An only child, he was born into a position of wealth and privilege, and when his parents passed away in recent years, the bright young man was left with a considerable fortune.
Since then, Lynch Industries had grown rapidly. He had leveraged a handful of companies built by his father, both in government contracting and the oil industry.
Thomas Lynch was a very wealthy man.
Charming and handsome, he and James had been drinking buddies prior to James’ marriage to Kate. Meanwhile Lynch had remained single.
And while Thomas Lynch enjoyed the life of a jet-setting playboy, he was an active philanthropist, making sizable donations to a variety of prominent charitable organizations around the nation’s capital, and in the process gaining a position in Washington society. Having been appointed by the President as the United States Ambassador to France, he enjoyed certain privileges applying only to persons of his position. Specifically, relaxed Customs procedures for American diplomats at private jet terminals—exactly what Kate and James needed.
“How are you, James?” Thomas began, pleased to be getting a call from his close friend.
“Good thanks.”
James tried to keep the conversation casual.
“How’s Kate?”
“Fine, never better.”
They talked for a few minutes, covering a variety of topics. When James mentioned his plans for traveling to Europe, Thomas generously offered the use of a plane owned by Lynch Industries, a Challenger 605. It’s range was more than four-thousand miles, allowing for trips across the Atlantic.
“Take the Challenger,” Thomas insisted, not interested in asking a lot of questions. By now, he had grown accustomed to his friend’s unconventional lifestyle.
When James told Kate about the kind gesture, she asked whether Lynch would be joining them on the crossing.
Somewhat puzzled by the question, he turned and looked at her. “No. It’ll just be the two of us, and the crew, of course.”
Before they packed the luggage, James inserted the diamonds—two hundred gems in all—inside a pair of half-inch diameter round tubes. Both were painted black to match one of the suitcases. Placing caps over the ends of the tubes, he situated the thin cylinders in the suitcase so that, to a casual observer, they appeared to be a part of the bag’s metal frame.
“What about the FBI,” Kate said. “They might knock on the door of the townhouse and find we’ve gone.”
“It’s only for a day or so. We’ll just have to chance it.”
At Dulles International Airport, a taxi delivered the couple to a tarmac where the Challenger was parked beside a private jet terminal. It was an impressive sight; the aircraft had been polished to a bright luster, the mid-morning sun glistening off its sleek exterior. Two customs agents drove up in a van, checking passports and conducting a brief cursory inspection of the plane’s interior. James presented falsified documents for Kate and himself. After an agent looked them over, they scurried up the stairs and entered the
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