The Tangled Webb Read Online Free Page B

wasn’t risk free. If any of the neighbors detected a presence here, the operation would have to be aborted.
    He broke into a grin.
    Specter’s decision to settle in beside the recluse had been a mistake. A fundamental rule of battle: never leave a flank unprotected. He should have bought her property and combined it with his own. Unwittingly, Specter has created an opportunity. This hiding place is only fifty yards from where he sleeps. A blunder.
    Satisfied his reconnaissance was done, he embraced the crisp night air, jogging back to Old Greenwich and the cottage. He set his backpack inside the door and glanced at his watch: 2:30 A.M. Kate was asleep in the bedroom, and he went over the plan in his mind one more time before setting the alarm. As he drifted off to sleep, a thought persisted.
    In a few hours we roll.
    6:30 A.M.
    James woke in a restless state and roused Kate. With some last-minute details refined they scrambled out to the carport. Kate got behind the wheel of the Chevy, switched the headlights off and quietly drove along the narrow strip of blacktop. She headed to a bridge overpass above the Merritt Parkway, ten minutes from Specter’s estate and along the route the lawyer drove on his way to work in Manhattan. Kate rolled to a stop in the darkness and James got out.
    They checked the communications equipment to be certain of its working order.
    “Be careful,” she said.
    “Remember. Be calm and stay focused.”
    “I’ll try.”
    She watched him disappear into the woods by the edge of the road, which led him under the concrete overpass to a spot he had scouted out yesterday.
    Kate drove to a private school in the foothills—a mile from Specter’s house, parked the Chevy in the lot, removed the road bike from the trunk and peddled to the hiding place next to his estate. Here, she removed a camouflage tarp from her backpack and covered the bike.
    An hour passed before a blanket of night gave way to dawn. Sunlight cut through a canopy of towering oak trees, and for Kate, it seemed like a switch had been turned when the neighborhood came to life: birds chirping in unison, an elderly woman walking along the road, shiny cars zipping by—neighbors dashing off to busy lives.
    Suddenly Kate heard a noise behind her: a garage door opening at the Specter house. Scooping up her binoculars, she quickly raised them to her eyes, adjusted the focus dial. Between the trees, the form of an automobile began taking shape, backing into the motor court and moving along the driveway.
    A few seconds passed.
    Behind a veil of underbrush, a black sedan rolled to the gate, tires rumbling on top of brick pavers.
    A Mercedes came into view and stopped at the driveway gate, the driver waiting as the gate swung wide. The distance to the car was not more than forty feet, the driver’s window open. Bingo.
    ALEC SPECTER
    His expression was clear: arrogant, smug.
    Kate’s research had paid a dividend. She had found a pattern. A common trait among successful people: an adherence to schedules and routines. These made for productive lives, though predictable. In the world of covert operations, predictability means vulnerability .
    Specter swept the road with his eyes, apparently seeing nothing out of the ordinary as he turned and drove away. Kate remained still, waiting for another vehicle to leave the estate and follow Specter, but none did so.
    She spoke into a small microphone near her chin.
    “He’s on his way.”
    A response.
    “Copy.”
    Then Kate spun around, horrified. In a full sprint, a canine was charging toward her.
    Her heart raced. She froze.
    Oh, no!
    Barking ferociously, the dog halted just a few steps away.
    Now what?
    Seconds later, a teenage boy shouted from across the street.
    “Rex! Come on boy. Come here Rex.”
    Abandoning instinct to obey a command from his master, the dog turned his head sharply and trotted off.
    Kate sighed in relief as the boy ushered the canine inside the house and left for