Chain Reaction. Don Pendleton

in touch, Striker. You know how Hegre operates, so stay on your toes.”

      “I have good backup on this.”

      “And more at home.”

      “Watch yourselves.”

      “Good backup?” Mitchell said as Bolan ended the call. “Was that about me?”

      “Do you always eavesdrop?”

      Mitchell smiled. “Only if it matters.”

      “It matters.”

      “Then thanks.”

      “Keep your eyes peeled for a shopping mall,” Bolan said.

      “Why?”

      “If we turn up at the airport dressed this way, someone is going to think it’s a SWAT raid. We need clothes to fit the role of tourists.”

      They rolled into the parking area of a mall twenty minutes later. Mitchell led the way and they hit a couple of stores, using Bolan’s Stony Man issued credit card to buy what they needed. A quick visit to restrooms and they emerged dressed in casual outfits more suited to the roles they were about to play. They would leave the soiled clothing in the SUV. The only item Bolan retained was his leather jacket.

      Bolan had purchased a couple of lightweight carryalls for the change of clothing they had bought. He added a third bag for the weapons they would leave behind. Before they drove away from the mall they placed their weapons in the third bag, wrapped in the clothes they were abandoning. Bolan stowed the bag in the SUV’s trunk, out of sight.

      Minutes before they arrived at the airport Bolan’s cell rang. It was Barbara Price, Stony Man’s mission controller.

      “A king guest room was booked for you at the Seattle Airport Marriott. The reservation was made for Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton. That’s who you are on your new passports. You look like a nice couple.”

      “Thanks. I’ll talk to you later.”

      “Your friends interest me,” Mitchell said.

      “Interesting is one way to describe them. Head for the Seattle Airport Marriott hotel. It appears we’re booked in as a married couple. The Hamiltons. Passports should arrive before we fly out tomorrow at 11:00 a.m.”

      “Whoever you friends are they have good taste,” Mitchell said as they reached the hotel.

      She drove the SUV into the parking lot and they made their way inside the hotel.

      Mitchell wandered around the large room, checking the facilities.

      “Is this your usual standard?”

      “No. Sometimes only get a single bed.”

      “Cooper, do you mind if I crash? The day’s catching up on me. You know what I mean?”

      “You go ahead.”

      Mitchell took a fast shower, wrapped herself in a bathrobe and climbed into the bed.

      “Just wake me in time for breakfast,” she murmured.

      * * *

      WHILE BOLAN AND Mitchell slept, a Stony Man courier arrived in Seattle at 6:35 a.m. He handed over the sealed package at the desk of the Marriott, picked up the keys for Bolan’s SUV and drove out of the parking lot. He drove to a small private airport where he transferred to an aircraft for his return flight to Washington, taking with him the carryall containing the ordnance Bolan had left behind.

      * * *

      AT 8:00 A.M. Bolan picked up the package waiting at the hotel reception desk. It held the Stony Man–prepared passports for himself and Mitchell. They looked well used and were stamped with entry and exit visas from a number of countries.

      When he showed the passports to Mitchell, over breakfast, she was impressed.

      “I may keep this,” she said. “It would be very handy if I want to take a quiet trip somewhere.”

      “What would SAC Duncan have to say about that?”

      “That would be telling.” Mitchell regarded him across the table. “And speaking about telling, what about you and the mysterious Lise Delaware? What do you have to tell me about her...?”