The Stone of Archimedes Read Online Free PDF Page B

chamber.
    â€œAre you still there?” the senator asked.
    â€œYeah, just seeing I’m getting to the airport. Will I be able to contact you at this number?”
    â€œYes. It’s my personal cell number. Please keep it private.”
    Christ, he wasn’t born yesterday. “Right. I’ll call you when I get to Rome.” Then Jake hung up.
    The taxi pulled up to the curb and Jake paid the man, giving him a modest tip. Nothing to make him stand out. Then he got out and headed into the terminal. He verified that there were no more flights to Rome that evening. Then he wandered around, removed the sim card and the battery from his phone and placed pieces in various garbage cans around the terminal. He had memorized all the data given to him by the embassy man, Rob Pierce, and if he needed a refresher he could pull it up from his e-mail. He had also put the senator’s phone number to memory. Jake had a feeling he might need to call the senator at some point, but he also guessed that someone could be tracking him through his phone. Caution more than paranoia.
    Next he went outside and found an airport shuttle to an old town hotel. He would need his strength and only a good night’s sleep could provide that.

5
    Washington D.C.
    Senator James Halsey stood next to his prize quarter horse that he had brought with him from Texas, a piece of the Lone Star State that would never get out of his blood. Whenever he needed to clear his head from the crap that seeped through every crack of the political scene in the nation’s capital, he found his therapy in a good ride.
    Having just clicked off the phone with that mystery man, Jake Adams, Halsey glanced at his reluctant riding partner, his lawyer and advisor, Brock Winthrop. The man had grown up in Boston and had not known the first thing about horses until the senator forced him to start riding with him a year ago. Halsey didn’t trust anyone who wouldn’t get his balls smashed by leather on the back of a good horse. Winthrop was not just reluctant, though, he was downright afraid of horses, and the horses could sense it, giving the lawyer almost no control whatsoever.
    The senator smiled as he nimbly got onto his spotted gray mare and shoved his right boot into the stirrup. “Jesus, Brock, loosen up on the reins or you’ll drive that bit to his eyes.”
    â€œSorry,” the lawyer said. “I thought this was like the parking brake. And I’m not sure my feet are right in these things.”
    Brock Winthrop was just a little over five feet tall, with features like an actual professional jockey, or that of a female gymnast, only with more hair on his head and less muscle structure. Halsey had considered a few times the possibility that the man’s parents had done some sort of gender selection upon birth, and selected the wrong way. But the man was a damn good lawyer and advisor.
    â€œThe stirrups are fine, Brock,” Halsey assured him. “Let’s start off slowly. No need to work up a lather.” Washington was hot and steamy this late June evening.
    Once the senator’s mare started in motion, the lawyer’s horse seemed to simply follow her lead. “That gelding you’re on was her colt,” Halsey said. “He’ll pretty much follow her anywhere she goes.”
    Once they got away from the stable and out into the open green pasture, the lawyer gave his horse a little kick to come up alongside his boss. “Senator, what can you tell me about this new man you hired to find Sara?”
    Senator Halsey looked at his friend. They had known each other since they both attended Yale law school together, with Halsey a year ahead in the program. “When we’re out here alone, Brock, just call me Jim like you always have.” He hesitated and watched his old friend try to smile, despite his obvious pain in the saddle. “You need to rise up with the gate of the horse or you’ll end