"Good. He will be pleased." is he?".-Paul-de-Vence.' Dmitri had chosen well. Italian. In her late twenties. A sensuous, catlike face. Full-breasted figure. Now, looking at her across the table, Harry Stanford made a decision. ' you like to travel, Sophia?" adore it."
"Good. We'll go on a little trip. Excuse me a moment.' Sophia watched as he walked into the restaurant and to a public telephone outside the men's room. Stanford put ajeton in the slot and dialed. ' operator, please.' Seconds later, a voice said, ' lop6atrice maritime." want to put in a call to the yacht Blue Skies. Whiskey bravo lima nine eight zero ...' The conversation lasted five -minutes, and when Stanford was finished, he dialed the airport at Nice. The conversation was shorter this time. When Stanford was through talking, he spoke to Dmitri, who rapidly left the restaurant. Then he returned to Sophia. ' you ready?". ''s take a walk.' He needed time to work out a plan. It was a perfect day. The sun had splashed pink clouds across the horizon and'rivers of silver light ran through the streets..
They strolled along the Rue Grande, past the tgjise, the beautiful twelfth-century church, and stopped at the boulangerie in front of [email protected] Arch to buy some fresh baked bread '. When they came out, one of the three watchers ' standing outside, busily studying the church.
Dmitri was also waiting for them. Harry Stanford handed the bread to Sophia. ' don't you take this up to the house? I'll be along in a few minutes! ' right! She smiled and said softly, ', caro! Stanford watched her leave, then motioned to Dm itri. ' did you find ouff "The woman and one of the men are staying at Le Hameau, on the road to La Colle! Harry Stanford knew the place.-. It was a whitewashed farmhouse with an orchard a mile west of St.-Paul-de-Vence. ' the other onet ' Le Mas d'Artigny.' Le Mas d'Artigny was a Provenw mansion on a hillside two miles west of St.-Paul-de-Vence. ' do you want me to do with them, sirt '. I'll take care of them.' Harry Stanford's villa was on the Rue de Casette, next to the mairie, in an area of narrow cobblestone streets and very old houses. The villa was a five-level house made of old stone and plaster. Two levels below the main house were a garage and an old cave used as a wine cellar. A stone staircase led to upstairs bedrooms, an office, and a tiled-roof terrace.
The entire house was furnished in French antiques and filled with flowers. When Stanford returned to the villa, Sophia was in his bedroom, waiting for him. She was naked. ' took you so long?' she whispered.
In order to survive, Sophia Matteo, often picked up money between film assignments as a call girl, and she was used to faking orgasms to please her clients, but with this man, there was no need to pretend. He was insatiable, and she found herself climaxing again and again. When they were finally exhausted, Sophia put her 10 arms around him and murmured happily, ' could stay here forever, caro.' I wish I could, Stanford thought, grimly. a They had dinner at Le C66 de la Place in Plaza du General-de-Gaulle, near the entrance to the village. The dinner was delicious, and for Stanford the danger added spice to the meal. When they were finished, they made their way back to the villa. Stanford walked slowly, to make certain his pursuers followed. At one A. m., a man standing across the street ' the lights in the villa being, turned off, one by one, until the building was in total darkness. At four thirty in the morning, Harry Stanford went into the guest bedroom where Sophia slept. He shook her gently. ' ... T She opened her eyes and looked up at him, a smile of anticipation on her face, then frowned. He was fully dressed* She sat up. ' something wrong?", MY dear. Everything is fine. You said you liked to travel. Well, were going to take a little trip.' She was wide awake now. ' this hourr '. We must be very quiet."@i .. ! '.' Fifteen minutes later, Harry Stanford, Sophia, Dmitri, and Prince were moving down the stone.
Chapter Two
Half an hour later, at Nice airport, a converted Boeing 727 was slowly taxiing down the runway to the takeoff point. Up in the tower, the flight controller said, ' certainly are in a hurry to get that plane off the ground. The pilot has asked for a clearance three times. 9 "Whose plane is itt ' Stanford *King Midas himself."'s probably on his way to make another billion or two.' The controller turned to monitor a [email protected] taking off, then picked up the microphone.
"Boeing eight nine five Papa, this is Nice departure control. You are cleared for takeoff. Five left. After departure, turn right to a heading of one four zero.' Harry Stanford's pilot and copilot exchanged a relieved look. The pilot pressed the microphone button. '. Boeing eight nine five Papa is cleared for takeoff. Will turn Fight to one four zero.' A moment later, the huge plane thundered down the runway and knifed into the gray dawn sky. 14 The copilot spoke into the microphone again. 413eparture, Boeing eight nine five Papa is climbing out of three thousand for flight level seven zero.' The copilot turned to the pilot.
"Whew! Old Man Stanford was . anxioui for us to get off the ground, wasn't het The pilot shrugged. ' not to reason why, ours but to do and die. How's he doing. back theret The copilot rose and stepped to the door of the cockpit, and looked into the cabin. ''s resting.' They telephoned the airport tower from the car. '. Stanford's plane ... Is it still on the groundt ', monsieur. It has departed." the pilot file a flight plant ' course, monsieur." where?" plane is headed for JKF." you.' He ' to his companion. '.
We'll have people there to meet him.' When the Renault passed the outskirts of Monte Carlo, speeding toward the Italian border, Harry Stanford said, ''s no chance that we were followed, Dmitrit ', sir. We've lost them.".' Harry Stanford leaned back in his seat and r .. There was nothing to worry about. They would be tracking the plane. He reviewed the situation 15 in his mind. It was really a question of what they knew and when they knew it. They were jackals following the trail of a lion, hoping to bring him down. Harry Stanford smiled to himself. They had underestimated the man they were dealing with. Others who had made that mistake had paid dearly for it. Someone would also pay this time. He was Harry Stanford, the confidant of presidents and kings, powerful and rich enough to make or break the economies of a dozen countries. The 727 was in the skies over Marseilles. The pilot spoke into the microphone. ', Boeing eight nine five Papa is with you, climbing out of flight level one nine zero for flight level two three zero.".' The R ' reached San Remb shortly after dawn. Harry Stanford had fond memories of the city, but it had changed drastically. He remembered a time when it had been an elegant town with first-class hotels and restaurants, and a casino where black tie was required and where fortunes could be lost or won in an evening. Now it had succumbed to tourism, with loud-mouthed patrons gambling in their shirtsleeves. The Renault was approaching the harbor, twelve miles from the French-Italian border. There were two marinas at the harbor, Marina Porto Sole to the east, and Porto Communale to the west. In Porto Sole, a 16 marine attendant directed the berthing. In Porto Communale, there was no attendant. ' one?" Dmitri asked. ' Communale,' Stanford directed. Ae fewer people around, the better. ', sir.' A few minutes later, the Renault pulled up next to the Blue Skies, a sleek hundred-and7zghty-foot motor yacht.