For the People Chapter 82

From a gentle hill overlooking the marina, Hunt watches through a nightscope as Roord sneaks onto the fishing boat he'd sailed on that afternoon. When Roord boarded earlier, he hadn't been carrying much, and as far as Hunt could tell, he committed no sabotage. It made sense that the fixer would put it off until he believed that he could work unobserved. Now, Roord strains under the weight of a cardboard carton, making his way toward what from Hunt's schematics, is the vessel's fuel tank. Hunt continues his surveillance as Roord inserts what looks more like a grade-school craft project than an explosive device. Not that Hunt's seen many school projects since the dark ages when he was a boy. But he had managed to observe Alexis and some of her classmates deliver a few to the private, and doubtless expensive, educational institution she attended.

Despite the assembly's strange appearance, Hunt isn't about to underestimate Roord. The fixer's been responsible for too many untimely deaths. Roord isn't leaving his little gift in the fuel tank for nothing. He means for it to blow – with Richard and his family onboard. Hunt checks the time flashing on his scope. Sunrise won't be for several hours. He'll have plenty of opportunity to retrieve whatever Roord left before anyone else gets near the boat. He just has to try to avoid blowing himself up in the process.

The boat's security system is designed to keep an intruder from starting the engine or stealing equipment. Roord didn't have to worry about either of those things. Once Roord's departed, neither does Hunt. He cautiously approaches the fuel tank to examine what Roord left behind. It looks no less bizarre close-up – a weird combination of origami and improvised explosive device. Hunt readily recognizes the explosive responsible for hundreds of innocent deaths in Oklahoma City as well as the disaster in Lebanon. It won't be a problem to transport. Unless combined with metal and fuel oil, the odorless white crystals are pretty harmless. And while they may have weighed down Roord, Hunt is accustomed to bearing much heavier burdens. He'll get Roord's crap off the boat, then he'll see about taking care of Roord. One attempt at blowing up Richard and his family is more than enough.


The scent of vanilla still hangs in the air of the Hamptons house's master bedroom when Kate opens her eyes to the first pink streaks of dawn. Propping herself on her elbow, she looks down at Rick. He has a smile on his face. Whatever he's dreaming of must be nice. If he's replaying their lovemaking from the night before, it would be better than nice, edging into the fantastic. At least it was for her.

The travel and novel activity thoroughly wore out Lily. She fell asleep early without a peep and stayed that way. Once Jim Beckett and Alexis retired for the night, Rick and Kate were free to enjoy each other. Kate's mind was clear of rehearsals for a day in court, and Rick had no immediate editorial demands. To the background of the rhythmic sound of the waves and washed in the glow of candlelight, they gave and received pleasure, until their personal waves crashed on the shore. Still in each other's arms, they sank into sleep's welcoming cradle.

The coming of morning, however, was inevitable. Lily will be up soon, wet and hungry but full of energy to face the coming day. The soft babbling just beginning to flow through the monitor will soon become a full-fledged demand for attention.

Emerging from dreamland, Rick brushes his lips against Kate's. "Good morning. But from the sound of it, we should probably see to our daughter before the tide turns."

"I'll take care of her – if you start the coffee," Kate proposes.

"Deal. And how about waffles?"

Doubtful lines flank the bridge of Kate's nose. "Those could be a little heavy before getting on a boat, especially if it bounces around a lot."

"I didn't see any rough seas forecast, but you never know. And Alexis did get seasick when she was little. We were on a boat off the Maine coast with Stephen King and his family and the waves got a little choppy. Stephen and Tabitha's kids didn't get sick at all, but they were more used to it than Alexis. So, I suppose, better safe than sorry. We can go light. The village bakery should be open already. It has some puffy breakfast pastries that are like biting air – if the air had a drizzle of chocolate. I can throw on some sweats and be there and back in 20 minutes."

"Sounds perfect."


Hunt scatters the ammonium nitrate over the grass closest to his cabin. He'll be rid of it, and the plants will be grateful. As to the paper triggering device Roord constructed, he can drop that off at the Company installation in the city. The lab can take it apart and figure out how it works. The agency might even want to appropriate the tech for future use. But none of that is Hunt's problem. He needs to terminate Roord's employment – with extreme prejudice. He's guessing that the fair-haired assassin will have a little nest where he can watch what he expects will be a fatal explosion. The spot from which Hunt observed Roord earlier is the location the would-be bomber would most likely choose.

Unfortunately, approaching Roord in that spot will be difficult. It has 360-degree visibility and is totally defensible. But Hunt can get Roord on his way to his likely perch. Only one road leads to the general area and in the early morning, it's unlikely to be well-traveled. Spotting Roord's Taurus will be no problem. The adaptations on Hunt's Company car will allow him to readily overtake his target. The sizable trunk will also easily accommodate a body. And the special matting will resist bloodstains.


Rick closes his eyes as he savors his father-in-law's freshly caught and grilled fish. "You really are a master, Jim. Your catch was more than sufficient, and you prepared it to perfection. And it was a perfect day. No one suffered any ill effects from the motion of the ocean, or the brilliance of the sun. I admit that I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Usually, when Kate and I take some time to kick back, a disaster drops right in our laps. But not today." Rick raises a tumbler of sparkling water. "To sun, to sea, and especially to family."

Glasses rise around the table as Lily babbles "fa-lee."

Rick grins at his younger daughter. "You've got it, kid."


Before long, a disgusted Hamptons police chief Brody finds the ancient and badly dented Taurus. The plates are missing and the VINS removed. He has no way of knowing where it came from and he doesn't care. He'll have it towed for junk ASAP. The village residents hate eyesores.


The Company's lab chief in New York City regards the intricately designed and folded timer and trigger delivered by one of the agency's assets. It's a new one for him, but duplicating it could be useful. The company intercepts more than one watercraft it needs to disappear. And if the powers that be aren't too interested in having their activities go completely undetected, the configuration can be reproduced in a variety of materials. He can scan it to create the algorithms necessary for 3-D printing. The process already works for firearms undetectable to weapons scanners. It could work for bombs as well. And the rumor is that the corporate wet boy who built the device is permanently out of business. All in all, the asset who brought the thing in did a good day's work.