I Am India Fox

by Virginia Nosky

  She’s hopeless. India turned to her father. “Actually what I’m in Washington for is a sit-down with the CIA. Being debriefed for that foray I had into the terrorist camp.” She hesitated, then said. “Funny, they want me to join up. Go to CIA school. Learn spooky things.” She laughed lightly. “What do you think? Should I do it? I’d still be a journalist, still do my own stories. I’d just be asked to kind of keep my eyes open.”

  “Oh, India. That is so out of character. Being a spy?” Justine Fox took a swift sip of her martini, then set the glass down hard. “Oh, for God’s sake, Carlton, tell her to get that notion out of her head.”

  Carlton frowned. “India, I can’t think what you’d be letting yourself in for. It’s just out of the question that you’d even think of it. Those boys will tell you just about anything to ensnare you. That isn’t the kind of life we expected for you.”

  “Oh, I probably won’t do it. I haven’t told them anything yet. I just thought I’d mention it to you. See what you had to say. Shall we order?”

  Well, it comes as a surprise that they even expected any kind of life for me. I’ve always done exactly as I damned well pleased, with hardly a peep from either of them, if they even knew what it was I was contemplating. Which is just as well. I was not a good child.

  As they waited to be served, India looked around. “I think this is the same booth I sat in when I ordered my very first drink. Remember, Daddy, when my friend Darlene and I were here in town with you. You dropped us here and told the maître d’ to give us anything we wanted.” She laughed. “We ordered rum and cokes. It was the most sophisticated thing we could think of that we knew we’d like.”

  “Good God, India. You must have been all of thirteen.”

  “We got all dressed up. We looked older.”

  “You never told me about that,” he said.

  “My dear Father and Mummy. There are legions of things I never told you about.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Langley, the next morning

  INDIA LEANED BACK in the chair opposite Earnhardt Clausen’s desk. “So that’s it. I’ve made up my mind. I wasn’t going to, then I thought, why not.” She grinned. “I might learn something. When is the class you want me to take? I assume there will be some kind of contract to sign. I’d like it to include a few caveats that we discussed yesterday, about the limitations to my involvement. I thought there was some kind of international prohibition for journalist to be…um…spies? I’m a journalist first. Then that helpful influential associate sort of thing with the Agency?”

  “I’m sure we can put together something that will be satisfactory to us both. We have considerable leeway here,” Clausen answered. “You won’t sign anything. But you’ll take the course.”

  “I have to go to New York tomorrow to make the magazine arrangements. I’ll be back Monday. When is the training class to begin?”

  “Monday, but it’s mostly administrative stuff that we can finish up with you today. There won’t be a salary on the books as such. But there are benefits, that type of thing. Later you’ll be assigned a mentor-type. Who you report to if anything comes up. During the course you will be in residence at the Farm. You’ll be getting some tools you could possibly need. At the close, graduation, we’ll,” he smiled. “kick you out of the nest.” He leaned forward and flipped an intercom button. “John, will you take Miss Fox down to Admin.” He stood. “If you have any questions, my door is always open. I’ll see you at the end of the training. Decide what next for you.” He held out his hand. “Good luck.”

  India shook hands and went to the door with the young man.

  “Oh, India?”

  “Yes?” She turned.

  “I’m glad your mother didn’t talk you out of this. I thought she might.”

  “Whatever would my mother have to do with it?”

  “Justine Fox? Why…she works for us.”

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  HER LEGS WOULD no longer hold her. A sudden buzzing in her ears made India struggled back into the office. She needed a chair. “What did you say?”

  “Justine Fox works for the Agency.”

  The room swam.

  Clausen’s voice came from a distance. “She never wanted you to know. Of course now you had to know. But I did think she’d try to dissuade you. Hit the ceiling when I told her I’d try to snare you. She’s very convincing. Thought she’d try to talk you out of it.”

  India shook her head. “She said nothing. Does…does my father know she’s an agent?”

  “Oh, yes. Your Dad’s not working for us, now, but he did for a short time. He and your mother met going through training at the Farm. Before you were born. We all saw the attraction. She got pregnant after they both left the training program.” He didn’t speak for a moment. “Funny. I never thought she’d go through with the pregnancy. She was very ambitious. Champing at the bit, so to speak, to get into the work. Didn’t let the pregnancy stop her. It was rather convenient for us in a way. No one ever suspects a pregnant woman of anything but mommy-hood. Wonderful officer. One of our best.”

  India tried to unscramble her thoughts. So many contradictions. Her whole perception of her mother. Her parents. Was she happy with these revelations? Was she angry at the implications?

  Or was she simply bewildered?

  “Earnhardt, this has hit me rather hard. After I wrap up these employment details, I won’t see you again until Monday.”

  She rose quickly and followed the agent John. She’d have a talk with her mother and father, that was clear. What would she say? What would they?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The Fox’s Georgetown drawing room

  India crossed and uncrossed her legs in agitation on the cream brocade French fauteuil. Late afternoon patterns of sunlight crept across the soft red, emeralds and blues of the Persian rug. A soft breeze billowed the sheers at the tall windows. Lavender wisteria blossoms trembled at the frame edges of the glass.

  Her mother Justine stood smoking, looking down on the rose-filled garden of the elegant townhouse she and India’s father had leased during their Washington stay. “I can’t say I’m happy or unhappy that you know, India. I thought that since your father and I had kept our, my CIA involvement from you for so long that it would always be that way. When you left the country for Lebanon, I was relieved. I thought now you’d be less interested in us. You were always ambitious. I thought your own life would take over any curiosity about our …activities.”

  India drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Why did you even bother to have me? You certainly made no secret that I wasn’t much more than an afterthought in your lives.”

  Justine inhaled deeply, watching the smoke drift from her lips in a thin stream. “That’s not true, you know. It was, of course a surprise when I found I was pregnant. I don’t know why. Your father and I were rather careless. It had just never entered my mind I would be a mother. Thought that I’d never be any good at it, to be honest. But, when it happened, I thought it could be handled.”

  “But why didn’t you have an abortion? It would have been easy enough.”

  Justine gave a short laugh, walked over and put her cigarette out in a porcelain bowl and came to sit across the polished wood coffee table across from India. “I know you think me shallow, but to tell you the truth, I was curious what you would look like. I had tests and found out you were a girl and I was simply overcome with the idea that I would like to see you. See if you looked like me, I suppose.”

  “Oh, good God, Mother. That is so like what I think of you.”

  She smiled. “There are worse reasons for having a child. I’d never had hands-on parents. Your father and I had plenty of money. You wouldn’t lack care. Wouldn’t lack for advantages.”

  “And you could go on with your careers and I could be trotted out as the precious, beautifully dressed little girl of the elegant Justine Fox whenever it looked like an advantageous thing to do.”
>
  “Well, yes, I suppose that’s true. I told you I was very ambitious, India. I still am. I had things I wanted to do. Places I wanted to go. I still do. You haven’t had a bad life, darling. I daresay it’s been rather exciting. There were times I got a little uneasy when you’d sneak off places.”

  “Uneasy! When I look back, some of the places I went were more than a little a little unorthodox.”

  Justine waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, you were never in any danger. Give me some credit, India.”

  “You had me watched over?” India threw her head against the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

  “That’s one thing about the Agency. There are always plenty of people to keep an eye on things. I was…am your mother, after all.”

  “Good God. Where was Daddy in all of this?”

  “We both wanted different things. I went with the Agency after training. He decided he’d be happier in the diplomatic side of things. He adored having you. Loved taking you places and have people make a fuss over you. He is so proud of you. When you were broadcasting in New York he was so boastful it was embarrassing.”

  “Earnhardt said he was surprised you didn’t try to talk me out of going to work with the agency. When did you find out I was going to be recruited?”

  “A week ago. Earnhardt is an old friend. He came over to see us when it became known what you had found in your clandestine trip to Syria. And he thought you would make a resourceful candidate. I wasn’t too keen on the idea. Neither was your father. But you are an adult, after all. I understand wanting to do exciting things. You could do whatever you felt you wanted to do. I’d never hold you back. Tell you not do something.”

  “The story of my life. There were times I wished you’d tell me no. Pretend like you gave a damn what I did. “

  “I guess I deserve that. But I did care. I regret you felt neglected. I’m just no good at that sort of thing.”

  “Did Earnhardt tell you…anything about me and Syria?”

  “No. Just that you’d bring some important photographs. Why?”

  “No reason.” She stood and picked up her handbag. “Clausen’s been so eager to keep you up on my life. Tell Daddy I’m sorry I missed him.”

  “Won’t you stay and have cocktails with us?”

  “I have a plane reservation for New York at six. I’m meeting someone for dinner in the city. Then your dear friend Anna Wintour wants to get started on that Vogue thing tomorrow. She wants to put it in the big Fall issue so there’ll be a rush.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to be there. It would be such fun to do a mother/daughter escapade with you.”

  “A new adventure in mommyhood? It’s a bit late for that, Mother. But it’s a nice thought.”

  Justine hesitated, took a breath. “Do you have a car outside? I can have Biggs drive you.”

  “No. I had the taxi wait. I didn’t think I’d be here very long.”

  India was suddenly struck by a sadness that hovered around her mother’s face, but then it disappeared. She pulled her glance away and moved to the door.

  “India?”

  She turned.

  Her mother smiled. “We’ll see you soon, I hope.” She brushed a blonde lock of hair from her forehead. “And, India. Just for the record, I was…thrilled with the way you looked when you were born.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  New York, The next evening

  INDIA LOOKED AROUND the dimly lit Italian restaurant, then smiled at Hamilton Ivorson. “I think I want a martini,” India said. “I want to feel New Yorky. Shake Middle East dust off my shoes and get something Italian to eat.” She leaned across the table and put her hand on his arm. “Thank you for bringing me here.” She gestured around the room, “I had such crazy hours with the early, early broadcast and Teodora’s was my comfort food place. It’s cozy and they make a fish stew that I’ve been craving. All that four-legged lamb and goat I’ve been eating in Lebanon makes me starved for something that swims.”

  “I remembered you lived over on Roosevelt Island.” He laughed. “You had a great Christmas party that year. When it broke up I staggered out into the in the snow kinda drunk trying to find a cab. My footing wasn’t too steady on the icy patches. Fortunately I got a ride before I fell and turned into a snowdrift.”

  She laughed. “I would have let you sleep on my sofa if I’d known.”

  He smiled. “Damn. I should have thought to ask.”

  After they’d ordered, he put his elbows on the table. “Now tell me what you were doing in Washington. You said something about debriefing.”

  Earnhardt Clausen’s words swam into her mind. Why do I want to tell him the whole wretched story? Maybe just the first part of it? Leave out the bad part?

  The waiter set their drinks down. India took the toothpick with the olive and watched her fingers turn it slowly, then popped it into her mouth. “Oh, it was just routine. I’d been to a rebel camp in the Syrian mountains and interviewed the leader. Plus I got the chance to see my parents. My father is working in D.C. temporarily and I hadn’t seen them for a while. Then I had to come up here for the Vogue story. Remember that? But let’s not talk about me. Tell me about taking over from Sumner. Did the board really fire him over the Nadia pictures?”

  “They did. Pretty much for your same reasons. It was not only tasteless and unnecessary, but hurtful to the Rohbani family and those close to her.”

  “And now you’re President of World Broadcast News TV. That’s so wonderful, Ham. You’ll be a great success.”

  “I hope so. And that’s what I want to talk to you about. I want you to come back to the network, India. I’d give you all the leeway you want in the stories you want to do. And your salary would be very attractive. And expenses. You could go wherever you wanted.”

  India was quiet, thinking. “Give me a minute to digest that, Ham. I’ve been feeling pretty good about being on my own.” You’ve got some money, India, from grandmother’s trust. And now you’ve got money from the CIA deal. But that has lots of imponderables and I can’t tell Ham about that. Funny. Now you’ve got secrets. I never thought I’d have secrets like I do now. I do have to earn some kind of living. Earnhardt wasn’t all that generous. “I’ll tell you what. Let me get through the magazine thing. That should give me enough time.”

  The waiter delivered their drinks and Ham held up his glass. “Here’s to having you back home. Take all the time you need, but I do hope you decide ‘yes’ and I can look forward to seeing India Fox on a regular basis.”

  Her mind raced. He’s going to want me to go to his place after dinner. And I can’t. I wanted to, back when he was so nice when I came home from Lebanon after the explosion, but I didn’t. I’d like to now, because I like him so much. But I don’t know when I’ll be eager for a man again. Not yet. I’ll get over this, then I can think about Hamilton Ivorson, lovely guy.

  Ham put his glass down. “Even if you say ‘no’, I need someone to go to Austria for the big OPEC Golden Jubilee celebration in Vienna. This October. You could freelance that, couldn’t you? You’ve got the language skills to maybe dig up some good stuff. There’ll be a decision from the Saudis, if they’re going to cut production. The stock market would like to know that. There’ll be all kinds of art, music, fashion, food. Should be a real blowout. The Organization is pouring money into the big bash, I understand. Of which they have plenty. The oil guys throw a big party when they’re out of the sand.”

  India sighed. “You’re not playing fair. You’re the devil tempting me with a festival in Vienna. You dog.”

  “I want you…to say ‘yes.’ ”

  The slight hesitation after “I want you”’ I can only say ‘maybe,” Ham. Just not now.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Earnhardt Clausen’s Office

  “IT WAS GOOD, Earnhardt. I learned a lot.” She grinned. “You’re right. The driving part was fun. My ears are still ringing from the firing ran
ge, but I turned out to be pretty good. Got a ninety five out of a hundred. The instructor said I won’t be issued a weapon tomorrow. But can apply for one if I think I need one.”

  “Yes. Most situations don’t. I was delighted to see your reports were top-notch.”

  “I did want to tell you that I’ve decided to go back to Broadcast World News. There’s a new boss, one I’d liked when I worked there before. He’s asked me to go to Vienna to the OPEC Fifty Year Jubilee. In October. Keep my ear to the ground, interview some of the oil ministers, see what comes up. Seems a lot of people need to know what the Saudis are going to do about cutting oil production. Or not.”

  Clausen leaned his elbow on his desk chair, thoughtful. “This would be a good chance to get your feet wet for us. We’ll give you a contact. Our office in Vienna thinks there’ll be a lot of wheeling and dealing. Always good to keep on top of those kinds of things.” He pulled open a drawer and picked out a file. After a moment he looked up. “You speak Arabic, Farsi, French, Italian. Some Spanish. Any German?”

  “Not very well. I get by.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Beirut, June

  “SO YOU SEE, Emile, I decided to go back to Broadcast World News. The new Chairman is a man I like and admire. I came to realize the brief time I was on my own that I need to have a stronger name, more experience, to be able to get entrees into the big time happenings. There’ll be somebody along for you to work with, I’m sure. I just didn’t want to work here anymore. I need to move along. Beirut was…good for a time, but after the terrorist attack, things seemed to go downhill for me.” And Jack can’t bear the sight of me.

  India and Emile met for coffee. She wanted to see how he’d healed. Make sure he was now all right. Wanted to say goodbye.