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Jah, good. Shes gone, Stone said. Whats up? Forty-One A ripple of laughter in the courtroom was silenced by the frowning of the judge. Hes my son-in-law. His holdings are very small. Devine laid her on the couch, his back to the men. His hand slipped under the womans skirt. He pulled the palm-sized ten-shot Beretta subcompact that was holstered around Montgomerys thigh and hidden by the flared skirt. In the span of one breath, he whirled and got off two quick shots. MP5 Man was his first take-down because that weapon vanquished all others in close-quarters combat. Shotgun Number One was next because Devine had sized up that guy as more comfortable with that weapon than Shotgun Number Two. She stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment. My father the political consultant loved telling Watergate tales. He told them right up to his death, several years after the fact. He especially loved the Rose Mary Woods story— how it was impossible to have accidentally erased it the way she said she had and how she was loyal to the point of facing prison for the villainous Dick Nixon (whod actually done a number of very good things for our country, damn his paranoid hide). Im no different. I love Watergate stories. And no matter how old I get, Rose Mary Woods will always make me smile in that superior way. Well, not from my personal knowledge, no, sir. I hate to think so, too. The men seated at the table straightened expectantly. Mason stopped his car in front of the California type bungalow, opened the door of the car. I spent a few minutes bringing her up to date: how Cindy had called me, how Grimes had scoped me out and how he claimed at first that hed suffered a head wound for no apparent reason. And then hed told me more about Dave Fletcher and the recorder. Thats because theyd been seriously wounded, Granddad. Well just go to the ER.’ Oh, yes. He looked at his watch. How about you give me one minute and thirty seconds in the hall? Youre lucky. My wife hit a number on the lottery, he said...