She raised her head from his chest.
‘I hope that was to your satisfaction, Mr. President.’
‘You know it was.’
‘Better than the First Lady?’
The President kissed her, and she felt the passion stir again.
‘You do things the First Lady hasn’t even read about in books.’
Lucia kissed him happily in return, and settled her head back down on his chest.
The red telephone beside the bed rang. This was not the standard hotel phone. It had been specially installed by the President’s staff before he moved into the room. Lucia groaned, as the President, making a face, stretched his arm across the bed to answer it.
‘Let it ring,’ she said.
‘I wish I could, Honey. Hello?’
‘Mr. President,’ a male voice said, ‘I have the Secretary of State on the secure line from Tel Aviv. May I patch him though?’
Wade winked at Lucia and blew her a kiss.
‘Sure. Go ahead.’
He placed his hand over the receiver.
‘I have to take this.’
Lucia, knowing the rules, kissed him on the cheek, climbed out of bed, and walked towards the bedroom door. Beyond the door lay the living room of the presidential suite, where their play had begun. By walking straight ahead, she would be able to collect her clothes from the floor where they lay discarded. She thought of it as removing the evidence from the crime scene, like erasing the fingerprints from the murder weapon, picking up the spent cartridges. Her black seamed stockings lay on the floor just beyond the bed. They had been overlooked during the urgent first session. Her black panties, bra, and MaxMara cocktail dress were in the living room, next to the President’s shirt, pants and underwear. The empty bottle of Mumm Cordon Rouge and two glasses were on the small table beside the sofa. Lucia righted one of the glasses, which was on its side, and continued to the outer door of the suite, where she had abandoned her shoes as soon as she arrived.
She returned to the bedroom, carrying her clothes in a bundle. Wade was still talking with the Secretary of State, so she laid them on the bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. The President was hanging up as she returned, holding a bath towel loosely around her. She smiled. He lay silently on the bed, watching appreciatively as Lucia dressed, brushed her hair, and applied her make-up and lipstick. Once she was ready to leave, Lucia sat on the edge of the bed to allow him to perform their final ritual. Kneeling in front of her, the President lifted each foot in turn, gently kissed each sole and placed her feet into her shoes. They walked arm-in-arm to the door of the suite, where they paused for a long good-bye kiss.
‘Call me when I’m back in Washington?’
‘Of course. Save all your energy for me. You’ll need it.’
To Lucia’s displeasure, Agent Samuels was still on duty, standing in the corridor opposite the President’s door. Didn’t that woman ever take a break? As usual, her expression was cold. Lucia thought Samuels must have been much the same age as she was herself, perhaps a shade older but not much. Samuels was one or two inches shorter, but muscular and well-built, and without any excess weight. Her looks were mid-western, her skin fresh, her hair and eyes light brown. Her accent matched.
‘Good night, Agent Samuels.’
‘Good night to you, Ma’am.’
Linda Samuels allowed her eyes to follow Lucia until she turned the corner towards the elevators. She caught herself fingering her side-arm, her favorite nine-millimeter Glock, and with an effort made herself stop.
‘Bitch,’ she added, under her breath.
2
‘YOU’VE HAD a rough time,’ Ted Lazenby had begun.
Almost two years had passed since the interview, but Kelly remembered those first words as if they had been spoken the day before. She remembered her first impression of his personal warmth, how she sensed instinctively that this was someone she could like and respect. It was usually when she was alone at night in her apartment that the memories returned. Memories not only of the interview, but also of the events which had brought her to Washington, to a job which made her the envy of many of her colleagues. If they knew what had gone before, if they knew the price she had paid, she thought, they might be less envious. She remembered her conversation with Lazenby clearly enough, but her impressions of the office she would later come to know so well were hazy. Of course, any young agent would have felt anxious on being summoned without warning into the presence of the Director of the FBI himself. But the events which had brought her there had damaged her self-confidence. She still felt as if she were feeling her way through a thick fog. Twenty-four hours before, she had been lying on the beach in Cancun. Now she was in the Director’s office in the J. Edgar Hoover Building in Washington, and she was alone with the Director. Why she was there, she could only speculate. Her speculations were not encouraging.
‘Yes, Sir,’ she had replied, taking Lazenby’s hand.
He had walked to the door of his office to meet her as his secretary ushered her in. In his other hand, he held a brown file folder, which she recognized at once as part of her confidential service record.
‘Have a seat. Did Rose offer you some coffee?’
‘Yes. I’m fine, thank you, Sir.’
‘All right.’
Unhurriedly, Lazenby walked back to his desk and resumed his seat. Kelly made herself as comfortable as she could in an armchair in front of the desk.
‘You’re Special Agent Kelly Smith, age thirty, single.’
It was technically a question, but Lazenby was reading from her file, and he made it sound more like a statement.
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘You’re from Minnesota.’
‘St. Paul, born and raised.’
‘College at Notre Dame.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Athletic scholarship. What did you do?’
‘I ran track, middle distance, and I was on the tennis team.’
‘Then back home to St. Paul to law school. William Mitchell College of Law. The school that produced Chief Justice Warren Burger, if I’m not mistaken.’
Kelly smiled and nodded.
‘I’m impressed, Sir.’
Lazenby returned the smile.
‘So are they, and I bet they never let you forget it.’
‘No, Sir.’
‘Why law school?’
‘My parents are both lawyers. It was expected.’
‘What kind of law?’
‘General family practice, wills, trusts, estates, that kind of stuff.’
‘But you didn’t end up practicing law. Why not?’
Kelly shifted in her chair.
‘I’d always wondered whether it was what I really wanted to do, or whether I was just drifting into it. But I didn’t think about it seriously until my third year of law school. Up until then I had been too busy just keeping up with my school work. I hadn’t really faced up to the reality of what it would be like once I got out of school. When I finally asked myself whether it was what I wanted, the answer I got was ‘No’. If I had become a lawyer, I wouldn’t have done the kind of stuff my parents do. I would have been a prosecutor.’
‘Why?’
‘It felt like I would be making a difference, dealing with things that really mattered. But it wasn’t enough. I needed something more direct, more physical, I’m not sure quite how to put it.’
She paused.
‘And I’m sure that’s way more than you wanted to know.’
Lazenby put the file down on his desk and looked at her closely.
‘So, you came to the Bureau instead of becoming a prosecutor?’
‘I didn’t have it all neatly worked out. To tell you the truth, it just so happened that the Bureau was interviewing on campus around the time I had my great revelation. I thought, ‘what the hell, sounds interesting, can’t do any harm to talk to them.’ So I signed up for an interview, and suddenly, that was it. I was hooked. I knew it the moment I walked in
to the interview. I don’t know how else to describe it …’
She hesitated.
‘I understand,’ Lazenby said. ‘How did your parents react?’
‘Actually, they were great. I know they were disappointed that I wasn’t going to go into the family business, but they supported me totally.’ She smiled. ‘I was pleasantly surprised.’
‘How do you feel about your decision today?’
Kelly closed her eyes, and sat back in her chair, silent for a while.
‘I’m sorry,’ Lazenby said. ‘That wasn’t a fair question. You’ve only been on leave for a few weeks.’
Kelly opened her eyes and wrapped her arms tightly around her body.
‘Seven weeks.’
‘Seven weeks. New York gave you four months without the option.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Were the counselors helpful?’
Kelly hesitated.
‘I guess so. But I’m one of those people who need people they know. I have a friend, an old friend from back home, Linda Samuels. I lean on her a lot. I don’t know what I would have done without her.’
Lazenby nodded.
‘So you feel you’re making progress?’
She sat back up in the chair.
‘I guess so. It took me the first two weeks just to stop shaking. The next two weeks, I couldn’t stop thinking about Joe and Tina, and I cried the whole time. Since then, I’ve tried to think about other things, I’ve tried to remember who I am and what I’m supposed to be doing, but …’
Lazenby stood, walked around his desk, and leaned against it, just in front of Kelly’s chair.
‘Kelly, I’ve read the reports on Operation Shakedown, and I’ve spoken to New York about it. They should never have let you do what you did. You were too inexperienced. I’ve made my views on that very clear to the agent in charge.’
‘I volunteered.’
‘I know. And I also know that what happened wasn’t your fault. But they should never have let you do it.’
They were silent for a while.
‘It was going fine at first,’ Kelly said eventually, almost to herself. ‘I got myself taken on at the factory.’
‘Yes.’
‘The whole place was just a front, a cover for the rackets the two Families were running in the Bronx. I was getting good information. My cover seemed to be secure, but something went wrong…’
‘There are no guarantees when you’re dealing with the Mob.’
‘No, Sir.’
‘There’s no point in reliving it. Especially the shoot-out.’
Kelly closed her eyes again.
‘I know I’ll never be able to forget that. I still get nightmares about it. It’s only been in the last week or two I’ve been able to sleep through the night.’
‘I understand.’
‘I don’t really know why I’m still alive,’ Kelly continued. ‘I have no right to be. If Joe and Tina hadn’t shown up, I would have been dead. That I do know. But the rest of it, well, it all happened so fast. Somehow, we were able to call for back-up. But we were outnumbered, and by the time they arrived…’
‘Joe and Tina were dead,’ Lazenby added quietly. ‘Yes, I know. And I’m sorry. They were good agents.’
‘They were my friends,’ Kelly whispered. She made a desperate effort to suppress the tears, but it was no use. ‘I keep thinking, there must have been something I could have done differently. I should have got out of there before they…’
‘No,’ Lazenby said. ‘You did your job, and you did it well.’
He waited for some time until she recovered her composure.
‘Look, Kelly, I didn’t ask you to interrupt your leave and come all the way from Cancun to bring back such painful memories,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you had quite enough of that when they debriefed you. I brought you here to make you a proposition.’
Kelly looked up.
Lazenby walked slowly back to his seat.
‘I don’t know how you’re feeling about the Bureau right now. It wouldn’t surprise me if you feel bitter about it. If that’s the case, I’m sorry. But I do know you’re a good agent, and I don’t want to lose you. I’ve looked at your service record. You were one of the best recruits we ever had at Quantico.’
He folded his hands in front of him on his desk.
‘Keep this under wraps for now, but I’m losing my personal assistant, Fred Keenan. He’s been seduced by the world of commerce. Better pay and regular hours. I can’t say I blame him. In fact, I’m feeling a little jealous. But the point is, Kelly, I need a replacement. It’s not an easy assignment. You’ll be on call twenty-four hours a day. There’s a lot of paperwork, and a lot of dealing with unreasonable people who don’t know what’s going on. That includes people at high levels of government, who damn well should know what’s going on. It can be exhausting and frustrating, and there will be days when it will drive you insane.’
He paused, and his voice softened.
‘But you’ll be here in Washington, Kelly, you’ll be out of the worst of the mayhem for a while, and maybe it will give you time to readjust. And if that happens, and we can keep you in the Bureau, it will be worth it. What do you say?’
Kelly was staring at Lazenby, her mouth open.
‘Director, I’m… I’m overwhelmed. This was the last thing I expected. I thought…’
‘You thought what? That we were going to let you go?’
Kelly nodded.
‘I didn’t know what else to think.’
Lazenby laughed.
‘Well, we’re not. Not without a fight. Your record speaks for itself. You’re smart, you’re courageous, you have initiative, and you want to make a difference. That’s an unusual combination in any organization, the Bureau included, and I want you on my side.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘Well, how about ‘Yes’?’
Kelly took a deep breath and released it sharply.
‘Sir, are you sure about this? I’ve been around long enough to know that being your assistant is a senior assignment in the Bureau. Won’t there be people who resent…?’
‘That’s my problem,’ Lazenby replied firmly. ‘All I need to hear from you is yes, or no. Look, if you want, you can go right back to Cancun. No one will hold it against you. But, if you still want to make a difference, I’m offering you the chance to do it.’
Kelly looked at Lazenby for a few seconds, then got to her feet abruptly.
‘Actually, Director, I do need to go back to Cancun.’
‘Oh…?’
‘To collect the rest of my things.’
3
KELLY WAS LYING on her back on the sofa in the living room of her apartment, wearing an oversized sweatshirt, jeans and socks, and nursing a Coke. At five feet, nine inches, her slim figure took up almost the full length of the sofa. She had bright blue eyes, and jet black hair, cut stylishly short.
She stopped laughing long enough to interrupt the stream of complaints coming at her over the phone.
‘But Linda, it’s an honor to guard the President.’
‘It is not an honor to hang around his hotel rooms and listen to him having orgasms,’ Linda Samuels insisted.
She paused.
‘Jesus, Kelly, I shouldn’t be saying this on the phone. You’re sure this line is secure, right?’
‘I’m sure,’ Kelly replied. ‘Anyway, what difference does it make? Everyone knows he sleeps around. It’s not exactly news.’
‘That wouldn’t help me if it leaked out because of me. I wouldn’t tell anyone except you. It’s all so demeaning, Kelly. And you ought to see this one. She’s so fucking superior. She makes me want to throw up.’
‘What’s she like?’
‘Foreign. Expensive clothes. Good-looking, I have to give her that. The Boss has good taste in that department. But she acts as if she owns him.’
‘How does he keep her from the First Lady?’
‘Oh, that’s easy en
ough, with our cooperation. If the President wants to see someone, we know exactly how to arrange it discreetly. It’s been part of our job since Kennedy’s day, longer according to some. Senior agents take you to one side and explain it to you when you’re first assigned to the Detail.’
‘My God, what a use of the tax-payers’ money,’ Kelly said.
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Well, it’s your own fault. You had to choose the Secret Service. You could have come with me to Quantico.’
‘I’d already spent most of my life with you. We went all the way through school and college together.’
‘So, you couldn’t stand me any more? I thought we were to be life-long friends.’
‘We are,’ Linda insisted. ‘You know how much you’ve always meant to me, Kelly. You remember me back in the old days, a kid from the wrong side of the tracks with alcoholics for parents. If it hadn’t been for you and your parents, God only knows what…’
Kelly sat up.
‘Don’t start on that, Linda,’ she said gently. ‘You got yourself out of that, you made a life for yourself, and you did a damn good job of it.’
‘I’m just saying you’ve been my friend. You stuck with me.’
‘And you stuck with me.’
Linda sighed.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Kelly. I’m just upset, that’s all. I’ll get over it.’
‘I don’t blame you for being upset.’
‘Maybe I should have gone with you to Quantico. I just didn’t see myself as an FBI agent at the time. But maybe I’m having second thoughts. Maybe it’s not too late. What do you think?’
‘I think you had a bad day.’
‘The job sucks sometimes.’
‘Every job sucks sometimes.’
Linda laughed.
‘Yeah, you’re right, I know. Oh, the hell with it. We’re back in Washington tomorrow, and the First Lady is in residence. Perhaps he’ll give it a rest for a while. Let’s change the subject. How’s the love life?’
Removal Page 2