Changing Of the Guard (2003) by Clancy Tom - Net Force 08

Author:Clancy, Tom - Net Force 08 [08, Clancy, Tom - Net Force]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-03-17T20:24:40+00:00

Chapter 17.

Washington, D.C.

Natadze went home. He had a nice condo in New York, but he preferred to live in the District when possible, and he considered that his primary residence. The house he used was legally owned by a series of concentric paper-corporations, with no trail to him, set up by the courtesy of Mr. Cox so there was no way anybody could know it was his.

Natadze stayed off the books as much as he could. Those few elements of his persona that had to be public were mostly false--licenses, credit cards, even magazine subscriptions. It was hard to track prey if you couldn't even identify it, and Eduard worked hard to be as untrackable as possible.

He arrived home at the same time as the FastAir Express carrier's truck. He had made an arrangement with the delivery man, claiming that evening rounds were more convenient for him, and had made it worth the man's time to provide the extra service. It was amazing how many problems would just disappear if you threw enough money at them. Another lesson that Mr. Cox had taught him.

Despite the situation with Jay Gridley, he felt his spirits lift immediately when he saw the truck: The new Bogdanovich had come!

The delivery man exited the blocky truck, carrying a large box that Natadze immediately knew to be the guitar for which he had been waiting. He met the man at the front gate, signed the acceptance form, gave him a sizeable tip, and hurried inside.

It was but the work of a moment to open the box, dump the biodegradable packing peanuts onto the floor, and get to the cased instrument. The case itself was one of Cedar Creek's custom models, a kind of hound's-tooth pattern against a dull yellow background. They made good ones, Cedar Creek, and were priced remarkably cheap. Not something you would trust to the airlines to manhandle, but then you wouldn't trust a steel vault to the airlines.

He hurriedly opened the six latches and looked at the guitar.

Bogdanovich was, as were some of the other underrated American luthiers, such as Schramm and Spross, doing outstanding work at very reasonable prices. He was, Natadze believed, a New Yorker who now lived in northern California. Natadze already owned one of his guitars, a spruce-front, maple-back model he had found in a San Francisco shop some years ago. That one had a tone as good as instruments costing five times as much, and he had been impressed enough that he ordered a new one custom-made for him. Fortunately for him, Bogdanovich hadn't been discovered yet, and the waiting time was still relatively short. If you wanted a Smallman, for instance, the Australian maker's list was several years deep, and Natadze was still waiting on one of those. Bogdanovich's list, fortunately, was only a few months, and to judge from the tone of the one Natadze already had, he was able to run with the best.

He picked up the guitar, turned it slowly. Built on the

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