“No. But if she had travel docs with her in preparation for making a run they’re in the wreckage and we’re still sifting through it. But paper is not something that’s likely to survive something like that.”
“But she had a bag. We certainly spooked her. I think she was making a run for it.”
“Not disagreeing with you.” Ashburn rose. “You’ve had a busy day. Almost shot by an imposter security guard/sniper and now nearly blown up.”
“Does anyone know I’m here?”
“You mean your friends? No, we thought it best to keep it on the QT.”
“So Chapman is okay. No BS?”
“No BS.”
“Can I see her?”
“I’ll check. Be back in a minute.”
Less than a minute later the door opened. It wasn’t Ashburn. It was Chapman propelling herself into the room via a wheelchair. There was a strip of bandage across her right cheek and one on her forehead.
Stone started and sat up more. His gaze darted to the wheelchair and then back at her.
“Not to worry.” Chapman grinned. “I can walk, just hospital rules for patients having gotten themselves blown up. You Americans have so many bloody regulations.”
Stone sat back, relief on his features.
She stopped next to the bed. “How about you? Everything working okay?”
Stone stretched his arms and neck. “Far as I know. Sore, but functional.”
“We almost caught them.”
“Almost doesn’t count in our business.”
“What did Ashburn tell you?”
“Basic stuff. No leads.” He added with a smile, “The most important thing she told me was that you were okay.”
Chapman smiled back. “I’m glad to see you have your priorities right.”
“You saved my life.”
“That only means we’re even.”
“I guess that’s true.”
“But Donohue was the last straw. No one left to talk to.”
“You’re wrong. There’s Fuat Turkekul.”
“But he’s off-limits.”
“After being blown up twice, nothing is off-limits as far as I’m concerned.”
Later, when she walked in, Stone tried to hide his surprise but really couldn’t.
Marisa Friedman was dressed in a white skirt, a blue silk blouse and flats. Her makeup was immaculate, her hair was glossy and fell loosely to her shoulders. She carried a purse in one hand and a pair of sunglasses in the other. She placed a pair of penetrating eyes on Stone and sat down in the room’s one chair.
“I can tell you’re stunned to see me,” she said.
“The last time I got near you, I was told in no uncertain terms to back the hell off.”
“How much do you really know? About me, I mean?”
“Weaver was blunt but informative.”
“In our line of work that’s good sometimes and not so good other times.”
He sat up in the bed. “So why are you here?”
“I heard about what happened to you. I wanted to see that you were okay.”
“You didn’t have to come here to find that out. A phone call would’ve done it.”
She glanced at him and then quickly looked away. She rose and walked to the window. “It’s a pretty day.”
“I guess it is. I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“But you don’t want me pushing too hard, so hard that it blows up what you’re trying to do?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. You can go back and tell Weaver your mission was accomplished today.”
“He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“Right.” There was a bite to Stone’s words that surprised him.