DISCLAIMER: The AGENCY and all the usual suspects of it and of the King-Stetson family aren't mine; I borrowed them with love from Warner Brothers and from Shoot the Moon and thank them kindly for the years of enjoyment I've received from them. Everything else is a product of my overactive imagination; please don't use the ideas or characters without asking me first.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've taken a few liberties with the coincidence of the Jewish calendar with the secular calendar for 1989. Purim is a wonderful festival that celebrates the bravery of one young woman and her uncle in stopping what would have been genocide; please read the Book of Esther in the Bible to learn more of the story.
Prologue * The Middle East * Early November, 1988
Ali, we need this man gone and soon. How much more time do you need? The gruff voice over the telephone had icicles in its mellifluous Arabic, even though the temperature on each end of the line was well over 80 degrees Fahrenheit.
It isn't as easy as that, my friend, the man named Ali replied in the same language with less worry than he felt. The Gardener has been very hard to approach since the idiot Lebanese assassinated his bodyguard instead of him.
I thought the Lebanese wanted to keep him, not kill him. Be that as it may, there must be something we can do.
Ali laughed, a surprisingly pleasant sound from a man with as mean a spirit as his. There are many things we can do, Samir. It becomes the question as to what we should do to take revenge for Adi and bring the Americans to their knees. We have not had much luck in America. Perhaps we would do well to be somewhere else this time.
And where... the voice trailed with insinuation.
And where? That is the easy part. Ali nodded in unseen satisfaction toward the faded map of Palestine that hung over his desk in an office building in Baghdad.
Would it not be a great thing to present to the Ayatollah that he is rid of two minor Satans and seen major damage to the Great Satan at the same time?
As you say. The value to our cause – the one the unfortunate disagreement between our countries has disrupted for far too long – could be incalculable were we to manage all of these things at once.
Eyes narrowed in a face lined by years of desert winds and sun, Samir sat down on his prayer rug in Tehran and stared up at the south wall, where he, too, had hung a map of Palestine many years ago. How many make he mused to his conspirator in Iraq.
Perhaps one third of the population of Tel Aviv, Ali stated flatly. There will, of course, be some martyrs – that is inescapable. But so much the better that it have the appearance of an accident – or a series that comes quickly, so that there is more chance for delay in the diagnosis and treatment of the problem. He smiled as a thought crossed his mind. And I think I know exactly how to do it...
Silence ensued for a short time after Ali finished his outline as the implications of the embryonic plan fully impacted the man in Iran. I like this idea, he said finally. We still have the necessary items, since Adi and his group did not have the chance to use them before his capture. As for the other possibility: How good is your information from Texas? Will it really do all the papers say it has done?
Ali laughed in his strangely Iraqi way. My information from Texas is from a source only one level removed from its genesis. In a place no one could ever think to suspect. And as soon as the scientists have replicated it, we will have it for our arsenal.
Beware the Great Satan. He has devilish ways of finding things out that we never wish him to, Samir warned. But let us go forward with the planning. When do you think you will be ready?
At their festival of Purim. We can target one of the large gatherings very easily. It is just at the time the American government will change hands, and there will be confusion in Washington. More people will die and the Gardener will not have time to gather as much security as the government likes him to have when he travels abroad. We can have plans for with and without the Texas factor.
Very thorough, Ali. Be very careful as you go forward.
Rest assured, I will do that. I will be out of touch for a short time. Inshallah, we won't need to do this any more.
Chapter 1* Washington D.C. * January 20, 1989 * 9:15 p.m. EST (GMT-5)
Washington D.C. radiated beauty that Thursday night when the world's eyes turned upon it to witness the still slightly unbelievable peaceful transfer of power from one man to another with popular consent. Snow had fallen that morning, ending just before the Inaugural ceremonies began at noon. Festive lights from the city's holiday celebrations still decorated the trees and many of the elegant facades along the stately avenues, casting their brilliant multicolored sheen across the expanses of white, glistening lawns and parks. Even the limousines and sedans crawling along those avenues, decorated as they were with national and state flags and many with bunting and signs besides, added joy to the evening as they wound their way to any of the 11 official Inaugural Balls marking the beginning of the George Bush Administration after 8 years of Ronald Reagan's leadership.
One of those balls was just getting into second gear at the British Embassy, where the new President and his First Lady were due to appear at 11:15, about two hours from the moment that Billy Melrose finally let his best team of agents off of door duty.
Billy, this wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that Jeannie just slipped in, would it? Lee Stetson asked with a gleeful smile as he reached for his own wife's hand.
His Section Chief kept his face perfectly straight when he replied, just loud enough for the three agents around him to hear. Given a choice between Francine and your wife, Scarecrow, who would you choose?
Francine Desmond had the grace to laugh along with Billy, Lee, and Lee's wife and partner, Amanda. Somehow, in the past five years, she'd gotten better at taking the ribbing that so naturally came her way from Billy and Lee – and, for that matter, many of the other agents who made the staff of their organization, known only as The Agency – as a sign of affection rather than one of dislike. If you put the question like that, Billy, I'd have to send you to Dr. Pfaff if you didn't choose your wife. She looked at the beautiful couple across from her just inside the formal entryway of the embassy. Better, still, at giving that ribbing back. Lee, on the other hand... From the dark look that crossed Lee's face, Francine knew she'd toed the line just a bit too finely.
...Wouldn't chose you over Jeannie, either, Amanda piped up, sensing in her husband's grip the tension Francine's comment brought.
Since Amanda so rarely participated in the ribbing actively, her riposte had a triple effect. One, it left Francine standing with her mouth three-quarters to the floor, her large blue eyes wide with the shock of an attack from that unexpected corner. Two, it made Billy and Lee both howl with laughter, bringing whispered commentary from guests passing by. Three, it made Melrose and his people extremely easy to find in the crowded hall.
You know, for people who prefer to work undercover, laughing like that is awfully conspicuous, Jeannie Melrose said from behind her husband's back as the laughter began to drop a few decibels. She stepped up into the small circle of friends and draped an arm around Billy's shoulders. Or is this some new technique designed to make you look less like spies?
Are you sure you're not really an agent too? Billy asked with unmistakable love in his voice, kissing her briefly on her full, plum lips.
I ought to be, after all these years. She greeted Lee with a kiss on his cheek, Francine with a hug, and Amanda with a that caused almost as much commotion as the laughter a few moments before. Girl, you just keep getting more beautiful everyday. What's your secret?
Amanda blushed prettily and kissed Jeannie's cheek. The love of a good man, same as yours, she said, smoothing the front of her shimmering emerald taffeta and velvet gown self-consciously, then reaching up to play with her heart pendant in her signature I'm flustered move.
Francine rolled her eyes and sighed, annoyed at the sap flowing from the two very happily married couples. And, she admitted, envious, as she saw her escort for the evening present his invitation to the agent now working the non-diplomatic line. Yet another blandly handsome face in a long line of nobodies, broken only by Jonathan – and that had gotten her precisely nowhere, not to mention almost killed more then once. The momentary panic she felt at not being able to recall her date's name faded as she put on her game face and bid her coworkers a truly heartfelt, Later, my friends. Stepping out into the main flow of traffic, her cobalt blue, rhinestone-accented formal clinging in all the right places, Francine hailed him: Larry, how nice to see you!
Jeannie laughed with the others, but turned thoughtful as she watched the automaton-like way Francine walked off with her date. Do you suppose that there really is a man out there for her? Like Billy for me or Lee for you, Amanda?
Oh, I'm sure there is, Mrs. Melrose, Amanda replied in her softly lilting voice. He probably lives in Outer Mongolia in a monastery...
Mrs. Stetson, I think you need to come with me to get some food. You are positively vicious tonight, Lee chuckled, knowing that her mood had as much to do with a fight she'd had with Philip after school as with anything Francine actually said or with hunger.
Not until I've stopped laughing can you walk away with your wife, Lee. I need to convince her to call me Jeannie.
While you're at it, dear, her husband grumbled in his best imitation of an irritated teddy bear, convince her to call me Billy, would you please?
The four friends made their way casually to the buffet line, relaxed for the moment but aware, even the non-agent, of the possible dangers lurking on a night like this one.
The Inaugural Ball * 10:30 p.m. EST (GMT-5)
Dr. Forest, I understand that you've recently made a breakthrough toward reclaiming land poisoned by cobalt and sulfides, the Indian Ambassador to the United States said to a tall, thin, professorial man at the punch bowl as the entire diplomatic corps of Washington swirled around the food and drink-laden tables.
Unnoticed by either man, the woman with Dr. Forest scowled at the Ambassador's words. Washington, she had known since she was a small child living with her parents at Los Alamos, leaked like a sieve. But even Washington should be able to keep some things secret – like the work of Birchwood Andrew Forest, Ph.D. and genuine National Strategic Asset, until it could be reviewed for further, less benign objectives than the ones for which he developed his formulas.
Well, it wouldn't be anyone else, Dr. Forest replied to the official, unconsciously condescending. You really should read the paper in last month's Nature to get the basics before you ask for more details.
This time, they did notice her, but only because the scowl became a bright, dimpled smile that lit her face and made her soft green eyes glow golden. Birch, I'm sure the ambassador has more important things to do than read Nature. Have one of your scientific staff read this month's issue of BioChem Review and give you a synopsis, Ambassador. You'll be much happier and get more information accurately if you let an expert digest it. Trust me. I typed the manuscript. It was the truth – but more importantly it was the coded way to let Dr. Forest know he'd been rude to an important person yet again. When she called him Birch, Andy Forest was supposed to know that he needed to come down to earth. The woman sighed inwardly, knowing that as frustrating as he could be sometimes, she wouldn't trade her job for anything.
He thought he had done a pretty good job of staying on the planet, but even when he relaxed as he had so far this evening, one word of shop talk put him back into egghead mode. He started to apologize to the Ambassador, but the aristocrat waved him off with an understanding wink and promised to have his staff look into the article. Andy led his companion off, firmly attached to her side and wondering yet again what he had done to warrant her presence in his life.
The ambassador sipped at his punch and watched with great amusement as the couple walked away from him. The Gardener was in love, that much was obvious in the way Dr. Forest held the woman close, looked at her through gray-blue eyes hazed with deep affection. The woman, a svelte, cinnamon-haired beauty, was more guarded but seemed very comfortable with the doctor's arm securely wrapped around her waist. He hoped for the sake of the good-hearted if heady biochemist that no one with less honorable intentions than his own to help his country recover arable land clued in to the attachment between Dr. Forest and... JoJo, that was it. That attachment could prove useful to the wrong people.
The Inaugural Ball * 10:50 p.m. EST (GMT-5)
Francine drifted among the glitterati with Larry by her side, feeling left out of life as she caught glimpses of her best friends sharing this spectacular moment in history with the people who completed them. It was a little easier to think of Billy without Jeannie because she wasn't an agent, but sometime in the last three or four years, Lee Stetson and Amanda King had gone from and that frumpy housewife to Lee and Amanda – and never one without the other in her mind. Their deception about their marriage had put a serious crimp in her friendship with the couple. Amanda's persistent goodwill, her inclusion of Francine as a bridesmaid at their public ceremony, and Amanda's help when Francine's mother died over the summer finally thawed her anger and brought them closer than ever. Francine longed to be more than a fifth wheel when they were out like this, or on the rare occasions when the world was quiet enough for an impromptu gathering with the extended families that included Philip and Jamie as well as Billy's daughters and husbands. Soon, there would be grandchildren, too.
These thoughts kept her cattiness near the surface, so it was with a certain amount of spiteful pleasure that Francine noticed the gorgeous woman at the champagne fountain in the center of the grand sun room. Stitch for stitch, the cinnamon-haired swan wore the same dress as Amanda.
There's the smile I've been waiting for, Larry said beside her. You've been distracted all evening.
I'm sorry. I just had something on my mind, trying to puzzle it through. Would you mind if I went to tell my friends about this while I've got it fresh in my thoughts? Lame, she thought, but with luck he would be hooked up with someone else in a short while and she could make a polite exit. Otherwise, she'd claim a headache.
Sure. I'll just wait at the bar, he replied
Francine made her way to the table one of her friends had snagged, naturally placed to allow each agent to cover half the room and two of the three entryways in a single glance. Always on duty, she mused, even when they relax.
Amanda and Lee sat side by side, his right hand as always intertwined with her left. Francine knew that when they were finished eating, Lee's arm would wrap itself around some part of his wife, probably her impossibly tiny waist.
Billy and Jeannie weren't holding hands, which she thought odd until she caught a glimpse under the table and saw Jeannie's stockinged foot creeping its way up under the leg of Billy's trousers. She couldn't hold in the giggle, so she added a little more volume to her exclamation of greeting. There you are!
Heads swiveled in wariness at her arrival, the faces only relaxing as each agent recognized their coworker.
Hi, Francine. We saved seats for you and Larry, Amanda nodded gently toward the empty chairs between Billy and Lee. I'm really sorry for what I -
Oh, posh, Amanda, don't apologize. It's all in fun, Francine interrupted, startled that Amanda had remembered her date's name. But I have to tell you, she continued, leaning in conspiratorially, there's a woman here wearing the exact same dress you are. And come to think of it, something tells me I ought to know who she is.
Lee growled.
Knowing that Amanda wouldn't really care about the fashion horror of a duplicate outfit, Francine let Lee glower for several seconds before she patted his arm and sat down beside him. And you both look exquisite in the dress, whoever she is.
Confusion crossed the faces of her friends. Francine, you just complimented someone without needing anything from her. Are you feeling okay? Billy quipped, legitimately half-concerned.
Before anyone else could jump in, another voice grabbed their collective attention. Amanda West! I don't believe it!
Amanda looked up, puzzled for a few seconds before she placed the face and the voice. Andy Forest! Oh, my gosh, how are you? she asked, rising from her chair and extending her right hand to the interloper. Lee gripped her left hand possessively; after a just proper length hand shake, she turned to her husband and explained to him and the rest of her friends how the handsome, dark-haired man happened to know her by her maiden name. Andy was my biology lab partner when we were students out at the University of Virginia. In fact, I'm pretty sure he's the only reason I passed, never mind made an A' in, Biology 101.
Andy Forest replied to Amanda's statement, but Lee didn't hear it. The woman around whose waist Mr. Forest's arm was wrapped drew his attention; only at the sharp shake of her head did he squelch the gasp of surprised recognition that threatened to escape his lips. He saw that she stilled reactions from Francine and Billy the same way; only then did he turn his attention back to his wife, who was just saying...
...Lee Stetson, a producer/director at IFF. Amanda lovingly stepped closer to him as she finished her introduction.
Lee obligingly shook hands with the man, then impatiently waited for Amanda to finish the rest of the social necessities. He wanted to know what was going on.
Apparently, Andy Forest lacked some basic social skills, because the woman had to nudge him overtly before he introduced her. At least it was a gracious introduction, of sorts. I apologize up front that everything I'm about to say sounds sexist, because it isn't meant that way. This is JoJo Marley, my Girl Friday, secretary extraordinaire, life saver, and general all-around American Express Woman – you know, Don't leave home without her...'
JoJo Marley laughed, allowing the others to do the same after a hesitant pause, and exaggerated a roll of her sparkling green eyes. My official title is Executive Project Manager for Project Administration'. What it really means is that I am at the beck and call of the Project Executive Director 16 hours a day, 6 days a week. I fight for the 1 day and 8 hours, believe me.
The Iraqi Agricultural Attaché approached at that point and asked for a moment of Andy's time. I've got to talk with Mr. Agazi. Stay here, Jo, Andy said, obviously reluctant to let her go. She caught his arm as he slipped by and whispered in his ear; he turned back to say, Please excuse me, it was nice to meet you all. Amanda, please give Jo your information. I'd love to catch up later.
JoJo watched him go, laughing as he bumbled his way toward the dessert table with the Middle Eastern diplomat. Mrs. Stetson, was he like this in college, too?
Please, call me Amanda, she corrected. And, if you can believe it, he was worse.
JoJo's smooth brow furrowed in thought. Oh, dear. I'll have to work overtime on that.
Lee couldn't help himself anymore; he had to break the silence imposed with JoJo's head shake moments before. You, work overtime on anything? What happened to the vaunted Marley Mental Magic, Joanna?
Amanda felt a knot growing in her stomach as she wondered if yet another of Lee's old girlfriends had come back to cause problems. The she realized that Billy and Francine were laughing and obviously knew her, as did Jeannie. She relaxed just a little as she waited for JoJo to answer he husband.
Scarecrow, even the vaunted Marley Mental Magic' has trouble grasping the concept that B. Andrew Forest, Ph.D., has more social grace now than he's ever had in his life. Without warning, she leaned over the table to look more closely at Amanda. After a moment, she smiled broadly and turned back to Lee. It looks like you and I should both be grateful for such an inconceivable event, Lee. Otherwise, Amanda might be Mrs. Andrew Forest and we'd be left out...
Billy, for whom Amanda being with anyone except Lee was as inconceivable as the upgrade of Andy Forest's social skills was to JoJo, pushed away from the table and stood to give her a hug. So, are you and the doctor...?
The shoulder-blade length cinnamon hair swung beautifully across her bare shoulders with the shake of her head. He's a bit too dense to get it right now. Although I must say that the two minutes and 25 seconds he's been gone is the longest time he's been out of physical contact tonight. She laughed lightly, a sweetly tinkling sound that melted the knot in Amanda's stomach further. Amanda, I must say, you have exquisite taste in both men and fashion. The sweep of her arm took in both Lee and their matching strapless, princess waist dresses.
Hand at her heart pendant again, Amanda blushed slightly and relaxed enough to admit her confusion. Just how do you all know each other, anyway?
Lee pulled his wife down onto his lap, letting JoJo sit in what had been her chair. Well, Sweetheart, unless I miss my guess, Miss JoJo Marley, known to a very select few of us by her given name of Joanna, is actually the bodyguard of America's most obstinate National Strategic Asset.
We prefer Personal Security Agent', but that's the general idea.
Amanda gasped as pieces fell into place in her head. Andy Forest is the Gardener? The head of Project EDIN?
JoJo nodded. That's him. The world's preeminent research biochemist and quintessential absent-minded professor.
And you're his bodyguard? She looked from Lee to Billy to Francine to JoJo. You've all worked together, haven't you?
This time, JoJo shook her head. Not quite. Lee and Billy were part of the interagency team that led my training class. Francine was in the class with me. We, too, are old schoolmates, you might say.
Francine tried to be nice when she finally spoke. Amanda, meet the Head of the Class. But she couldn't hold on to the kind thought that passed through her head, coming out instead with, In seduction, too, and looking pointedly at Lee.
Amanda's stomach knotted again, clenched tighter this time because Francine's look made Lee squirm.
I guess this leopard hasn't changed her spots at all, JoJo commented neutrally, looking back and forth at Francine and the uncomfortable Stetsons.
Billy groaned, knowing all to well that the Stetsons would not be a happy couple again until much later tonight. Unfortunately, Joanna, not much. You could – hang on, he interrupted himself, looking down to check the pager at his waist. That's the Secret Service. Back to work, people.
The President, his three best agents said as one, departing as abruptly as Dr. Forest almost had a few moments before.
Andy made eye contact with JoJo as he noticed the agents moving off; he made a quick drinking motion in question and she nodded in answer. She'd been his bodyguard for a year and a half and he hadn't really figured it out, so why bother him with more details? Turning to Jeannie, she took the older woman's hands and squeezed. Oh, Jeannie, the despair tumbled out of her, is there ANYONE out there for Francine?
Jeannie Melrose, thinking of Amanda's reply to the same general question earlier, started to giggle. I don't know, Joanna, she said between spasms of laughter. But God help him if he exists!