by Gini Koch
Why I cared I couldn’t say. But I did. We’d lost six agents and now Jack Ryan, and I had no idea if the events were connected, but my gut said they were. My mother believed in listening to the gut.
Sadly, my gut had no concrete information to share, like who was behind this, who the real assassination target was, or what we could do to stop it. My gut was totally letting the rest of me down, but there was nothing I could do about it.
My brain suggested I run my mouth, as opposed to continuing on in silence, which clearly wasn’t working for me. But I didn’t really want to chat about the nothing we’d gleaned so far from this excursion, mostly because we were going to have to rehash it the moment we got back to the Embassy.
Of course, we could always talk about something else. I went for continuing our prior conversation. “Did Jeff and Christopher go to school at the Embassy, Richard?”
He took this out-of-the-blue question in stride. “In a sense. They were the only children here when Theresa was our Head Diplomat. She handled their schooling.” This I knew to be true in more ways than one. “Once she…passed away, the boys were schooled at East Base.”
We reached Sheridan Circle and crossed into the park to give the dogs one last chance. “You know, I hadn’t thought about day care or anything for Jamie.” Yet another one in the Good Mother Fail column. “I didn’t think she’d need it this young.”
White coughed delicately. “Your penchant for running off into danger isn’t exactly a secret.”
“Hey, I didn’t go into the Paraguayan Embassy. Either time.”
“Yet.”
“Fine, fine. But it’s not like I’d have raced in there, even if something exciting had happened when were nearby, not with Jamie along.”
“No one believes that, Missus Martini, Pierre least of all. Yesterday was all it took for Pierre to declare that the day care center needed to be put into operation immediately.”
“Can’t argue with the logic.” Dog duties done, we crossed the street. Because of how the circle crosswalks worked, we ended up in front of Ireland’s Embassy, with another street to cross to get home. I looked down Massachusetts Avenue and heaved a sigh. “Especially since we have unfriendly company. Again.”
CHAPTER 59
LEN SPOTTED WHAT I HAD—three taxis heading for us. Three very familiar taxis.
He stopped walking at the corner by an open area between buildings, presumably so we’d have an exit strategy. We were close enough to home to make it if we ran, but under the circumstances, crossing the street didn’t seem wise. White and I moved closer to him, and Kyle did the same, still flanking us.
I contemplated my options and put Jamie back into the stroller. Once she was in, I lowered the sun shield completely, so no one could see her. “Poofies, be on small and quiet guard duty. Protect Jamie.” Poof purrs and tiny growls assured me that the Poofs were on top of things. I also kept my finger over the laser shield button.
“Let’s buddy up to the stroller, just in case,” I suggested, as I pulled Len a little closer. White did the same with Kyle. Good, ready for anything they’d want to throw at us—literally, I hoped.
The three taxis drove around the circle and pulled up to the curb next to us. “You folks need a ride?” the driver of the first taxi asked. He was disguised as he’d been the day before—poorly. I still couldn’t tell what country he might originally be from, including if it was this one.
The boys had made the dogs sit, but all four of them were sniffing like mad.
“Seriously? You’re trying this tactic again, after it worked so well for you yesterday? Oh, by the way, give me back the picture and the rest of the things you stole.”
He grinned at me. “Finders keepers.” He had good teeth, which tended to indicate an affluent country of origin. Or at least an affluent upbringing.
I did a quick check. The other taxis were behind his, idling, with their drivers behind the wheels, no firearms in evidence. If this was a kidnap attempt, it was a really low-key one.
I wasn’t particularly worried, not the way I’d been the day before, and not just because we had more, and better, backup than yesterday, or because we were less than a block from our Embassy. I just wasn’t getting any indicators that it was time for fight or flight. “What’s going on?”
“We’re hoping you can tell us.”
“Who is ‘us’?” I could see Len out of the corner of my eye—both girl dogs were on their feet and straining at their leads. Checked Kyle out of the other corner—same with the boy dogs. All four seemed quite intent, though they weren’t barking or growling.
“We’re friends.”
“Right. Friends don’t kidnap each other.”
“That depends.” He cocked his head. “If you’d come with us yesterday, you wouldn’t have ended up in the river.”
“I like swimming. And I’m sure I’d have ended up somewhere else unpleasant.”
“Unpleasant is in the eye of the beholder.” He checked his rearview mirror. “Some of what you have to do is very unpleasant. Many of those you consider friends are considered by others to be unpleasant. But you still trust them. And you should trust us, too.”
“Why would you think I’d trust you at all? Especially since I have no idea who ‘you’ are, whether it’s just the three of you on some bizarre crusade or if there’s a whole bunch of you out there, or what you actually hope to achieve with any of this, other than stalling us from getting around the block.”
He shook his head. “Just because you refuse our offers of help doesn’t mean we’re your enemies.”
“It also doesn’t mean you’re our friends. Why are you protecting the Dingo?”
He rolled his eyes as he checked his rearview mirror again. “We’re not. We’re not the ones who took him. We’re trying to protect you. Why do you think we arrived before?”
“You mean after the bomb two days ago before, when you chased us, or last night before, when you also chased us?”
“Both. You needed us, we arrived. Just because you didn’t take advantage of our services doesn’t mean we’re not here to help you.”
“Why are you here now? Nothing’s going on.”
“There’s always something going on. You know that. Besides, you’ll enjoy the ride, trust me.”
“Fine. You want us to become bestest buds? Start with sharing your names. And your affiliation.”
Dudley started it. He growled, low, deep, long, and nasty. Duke followed suit, then the girl dogs joined in. Dottie started the barking, but it took almost no time for the others to add in. They were barking at the taxi and the ones behind it, as near as I could tell, and it was taking all the strength the boys had to keep them under a semblance of control. These weren’t friendly barks—these were Enemy Alert barks.
The reason for my dogs’ reactions raised its head. There was a German shepherd in the backseat. It bared its teeth at my dogs, who shared that they were perfectly willing to take him or her on, best two out of three.
I checked the other cars. I could see dog ears in the taxi behind us, and I heard the sound of other dogs barking, so I assumed each cab had a dog of some kind in it.
“What the hell is going on and who the hell are you?” I shouted over the din.
The taxi behind him honked. He grinned. “Call me Ishmael,” he called. “And I’m affiliated with Rapid Response Taxi Service.” With that he gunned it, and the taxis headed off, each one with a German Shepherd leaning out a window, barking and snarling right back at my dogs.
All of a sudden, Dottie’s bark changed. She spun and started the Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy bark. The others caught on and did the same. I recognized this greeting.
I turned around to see whose arrival had signaled to the Three Stooges that it was time to go and to my dogs that it was time to calm down. I was sort of unsurprised to see that it was Chuckie.
CHAPTER 60
CHUCKIE WAS ALONE, WHICH DID SURPRISE ME. “What the hell is going on?” he asked as he got n
earer to us.
“Where’s Jeff?”
“Back at the Embassy, being the ambassador. The one who doesn’t get to run off at top speed any time he feels like it.” He patted the dogs, and they calmed down. The dogs loved Chuckie. Not as much as they loved Jeff, of course. I didn’t think they actually loved me, Mom, or Dad as much as they loved Jeff. But Chuckie was definitely up there on my dogs’ Top Ten List of People We Love the Mostest.
“I don’t buy it.”
Chuckie sighed. “I was alerted by your dogs barking their heads off.”
“How could you have heard them? I know they were loud as hell, but the soundproofing in the Embassy is amazingly good.”
He mumbled something.
“Come again?”
Chuckie sighed. “Fluffy and some of the other Poofs started acting stressed and were throwing themselves at a window. Since we know they can somehow travel wherever they want in a way no one understands, it was pretty clear they wanted us to see something. Your husband and I went to look and saw your dogs going nuts. Martini monitored your emotions. You weren’t scared; you were annoyed. We checked the surveillance cameras; I didn’t think it was a good idea to have a bunch of A-Cs race up out of nowhere. So, I came, since that’s part of my job. Now, I ask again, what the hell just happened?”
“You tell us.” I brought Chuckie up to speed on the taxi situation. I deftly left out the fact that we’d walked up and down the street, or that we’d run into Marcia and Nathalie, let alone that we’d spotted Buchanan doing the Nonchalant Dude on Observation Duty routine. I’d save that for later. “Ishmael might be some sort of clue, but to me, he’s Moe, and the other two are Larry and Curly.”
“Did you pick up anything?” Chuckie asked White and the boys.
Len nodded. “They were watching for who was going to come out of the Embassy, all three of them, the two who weren’t talking to us in particular.”
“They only watched the Embassy,” Kyle added. “They didn’t look around.”
White looked pensive. He was also looking around carefully.
“What’s up, Mister White?”
“I’m trying to figure out why they came right now.”
“Want to explain that?”
He nodded slowly. “The two times you’ve seen them, you’d just gone through a dangerous situation and were, for all intents and purposes, out in the open. The only other interaction we’ve had with them was when they created the gas leak to plant surveillance in the Embassy.”
“Correctamundo. And I see your point. Why did they drop by now? Nothing’s blown up, at least that I know of, and we’re not being pursued, so why show up when all we’re doing is walking the dogs?”
Chuckie’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not done scanning the neighborhood, but this would indicate that they knew you were out. And that means you’re right—they installed surveillance somewhere we haven’t found and neutralized.” He cursed under his breath. “Every Embassy in this area could be compromised.”
“Maybe. They were insisting they weren’t part of the big plan. They also said they were trying to protect us from the Dingo.”
“No,” Len said. “He said they were trying to protect you.”
“I assume he meant the inclusive ‘you.’ ”
“I don’t think he did. He was only talking to you. He didn’t look at any of us, not even Mister White. Only you. And you were the only one of us here who ended up in the Potomac, and he didn’t say anything about how we’d have been spared worrying about you or anything like that.”
“So I have a fan club? Lucky me.”
Len looked at Kyle. “What about the other two?”
Kyle shook his head. “Like I said, they were watching the Embassy, pretty much exclusively.”
“So I have a fan club of one, and his pals tag along. Still not thrilled.”
“No one got anything else?” Chuckie asked, clearly hoping one of us had managed a bit more.
“Ishmael didn’t sound like he had an accent.” Hey, it wasn’t much, but it was something.
“Does that mean you think he’s American or that you think he’s good at disguising his voice?”
“No clue, sorry.”
“Their license plates were caked with mud,” Kyle said, “so I couldn’t get the numbers.”
“Figures.” Chuckie heaved a sigh. “Well, at least they didn’t attack you.”
“No. Though with the dogs they had along, it was a possibility. But I’m pretty sure our dogs could have won.” Though I wasn’t positive. The three German Shepherds had been darned big, and all my dogs tended more toward the lover, not the fighter, side of the house.
“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” Chuckie said. “Anything else? At all?”
Len looked a little uncomfortable. He took a deep breath. “We went by several other Embassies on our walk. Specifically, the Paraguayan Embassy. Twice, once from each side of the street.”
Chuckie gave me and White a long look. “Which one of you suggested that?” He didn’t sound happy.
White shrugged. “I did. We found nothing of interest.”
“The curtains were all closed,” I added. “Not that I know personally because I stayed on the street with Jamie, the dogs, and the boys.”
Chuckie raised his eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes,” White said. “I did a quick check at hyperspeed. All curtains closed, no real sounds coming from inside. However, that means nothing—I’m sure their soundproofing is excellent.”
“See? I’m not an idiot, Chuckie.”
“Yeah? I’ve heard those kinds of protests from you before. They always come right before you do something even more dangerous than you’ve insisted you won’t do.”
“Well, we did get some other information, too.”
Chuckie’s eyebrow rose again. “Really? What? And just when did you plan to share?” He didn’t sound pleased. At all.
“It’s that Jack Ryan supposedly offed himself, and as for when, when we were home.” I gave him what we’d gotten from Marcia and Nathalie. “They didn’t mention that their husbands had dropped by yesterday, either.”
Chuckie shook his head slowly. “I’d assume that visit wasn’t on anyone’s books, and I doubt any of those who came to see us told their significant others about it. Most of what they do ends up being classified. I can’t stand any of them, but the ones with high-level clearances have them for a reason. I’m with you, though, on Ryan’s ‘suicide.’ The timing’s just a little too convenient.”
“You think the C.I.A. took him out because he leaked about the President’s Ball?”
“Possible, but no one believed him.”
“Well, someone did, because I really don’t think Mister Jack ‘I know Tom Clancy had me in mind when he created the character’ Ryan was the suicidal type.”
“There was also someone watching Kitty,” Len added. “A man from her Washington Wife class.”
Chuckie gave me the hairy eyeball. “Really. And when were you going to share this tidbit? Never, later on this afternoon, or when we’re all running for our lives?”
I refrained from calling Len a narc, but it took effort. Then again, Chuckie had hired him and Kyle specifically, and, as he’d be the first to remind me, the people protecting you have a right to share when you’ve been a tad free with the risks.
“Geez, dude. Home. I was planning to tell you, Jeff, James, Tim, and whoever else when we got home, which, if the Stooges hadn’t shown up, would have been about ten minutes ago.”
“Right. Does your husband buy it when you toss this B.S. at him?
I shot my best withering glare at him, to which Chuckie responded with his Dead Man’s Stare that was, frankly, a lot more intimidating than I’d ever let him know. “Scoff all you want, Secret Agent Man. I was telling the truth.”
“Sure you were. So, who’s your latest stalker?”
“Malcolm Buchanan. He’s sort of a loner, but, unlike ninety-nine percent of the class
, he’s never been nasty to me. However, I’ve never seen him around outside of class before these last couple of days.”
“He following you because he thinks you’re hot?” Chuckie asked, as if this could be the likely reason.
“Could be. Len thought so,” Kyle said, while Len gave him a dirty look. At least neither one of them was blushing. “I can’t say I’d argue with the theory, either.”
“Oh, please.”
Chuckie shrugged. “You’re the one who tends to be clueless about this sort of thing. I, on the other hand, spent half a lifetime watching men pine for you.”
Since Chuckie had been, as far as I knew, the only one so pining, I didn’t want to continue this conversation. I was enjoying not feeling guilty every day for not realizing he’d been in love with me. It was never a line of thought that made Jeff happy in any way, either. Plus, there was too much weird going on.
“Flattering as it is that all of you seem to think I’m a femme fatale, trust me, I really think he must be involved somehow.”
White cleared his throat. “I think we need to pay attention to other matters.”
I thanked God for the conversation shift as the rest of us looked where he was, at the Romanian Embassy, which was across the street from ours. It was big and blocky, nicely done, but nothing ornate, not one of the “look at me” Embassies. It was, however, sparkling clean, which, since it was bright white all over, was pretty impressive.
However, White wasn’t observing the building’s architecture. There was someone standing at a window on the second floor. Standing there, watching us. And, now that we were all looking, whoever it was waved and made the “come here” sign.
“Interesting. I think someone wants a visit.”
“No,” Chuckie said flatly.
“It’s Romania, not Paraguay. I doubt they’re still harboring a grudge over that party.” The person was waving more insistently now. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. “Is the waver wearing gloves?”