A/N the first: As this story moves past the 200k word count, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has come along me on this journey. I thank you for the time you've invested in reading, as well as leaving reviews and comments, PMing and tweeting, sending up smoke signals and tapping out Morse code on the pipes. The feedback and encouragement is always appreciated and welcomed.
Thank you as always to AgentInWaiting for betaing this chapter and helping with story elements.
Thank you, Google Maps.
Chapter 26 – Here, There and Everywhere
Chuck and Sarah sat on the bed staring at the ringing disposable cell phone lying on her open palm. "How'd this get in my purse?"
He shrugged and said, "I have no idea. Maybe somebody put in there by accident?"
"Maybe. I doubt it."
"I guess there's really only one way to find out."
She took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. Random disposable cell phones covertly slipped into bags of CIA agents by unknown persons rarely turned out well for said agents. But short of removing the battery or snapping the phone in half, she was sure it was going to keep ringing until she answered. So, in one swift motion, she flipped the phone open and put it up by her ear. She held it so Chuck could listen in, too. His head leaned against hers as their ears hovered over the earpiece.
Here goes nothing. "Hello?" she said.
"Good morning," a deep, distorted voice said. She felt a spurt of adrenaline at the sound of the electronically modulated voice. "You found the phone."
"Yes." She didn't like being caught off guard like this. Going on the offensive, she asked, "Who are you? What do you want? Why are you contacting me?"
The voice at the other end chuckled. "So many questions. Don't worry. I have no evil intentions toward you and only want to help."
"How can you help me?"
"I have information about a certain person you are looking for."
Both hers and Chuck's eyebrows shot up and they cut their eyes toward each other. "Who am I looking for?" she asked. She wasn't going to give this person anything.
"I won't answer that over the phone. He has eyes and ears everywhere. The burner phones and voice modulator are to protect my identity in case there is anyone listening in."
That made sense. Benoit had the reputation of having half of European law enforcement on his payroll. So far, she hadn't heard anything that made her feel like she needed to hang up and throw the phone into the canal. "What do you propose?"
"You and your husband are to go to the floating flower market on Singel canal and a buy dozen red tulip bulbs from the seventh stall from the street. You will then be given further instructions."
"No!" she said immediately and forcefully. "No way is my husband going to be there." Chuck pulled his head away and gave her a confused look. "I'll go," he whispered.
She scowled back and mouthed, "No."
He frowned and put his head back next to hers to continue listening.
"Then we have a problem. I know you're going to want backup with you. And I have no problem with that. But unfortunately, your partner—the large one—will do nothing but draw attention to you. He looks too much like a cop. You and your husband, on the other hand, will simply be two tourists at the Bloemenmarkt."
Huffing out an annoyed breath, she said, "How do I know this isn't a trap?"
"You don't, but it's not. I can tell you that over and over, but you won't believe me. As I've already said, given the person of interest to both of us, these security measures are more for my protection than yours."
"What if I come alone?" Sarah asked.
Chuck pulled his head back again and scowled. "No!" he whisper-shouted.
"I hear your husband agrees with me," the caller said. Sarah wasn't sure if it was even possible, but the voice sounded amused even through the distortions. "You should listen to him. If you come alone, you won't get the information. It's as simple as that. It's up to you." The call abruptly ended.
She slapped the phone closed and threw it on the bed. Pushing her hands through her hair in frustration, she said, "What am I supposed to do?" Feeling jumpy, she slid off the bed and started to pace around the tiny room. After having to step over the tray strewn with strawberry stems and the empty champagne bottle and Nutella jar a few times, she picked it up off the floor and set it at the foot on the bed. Despite her agitated state, she couldn't stop the little smile that curled at the corners of her mouth. God, that was fun.
"Look, Sarah. I get why you don't want me going with you. But you can't let an opportunity like this go by. Tracking Benoit down is the main reason we're here. If me going along to the flower market will help you do that, then I'll go."
Coming to standstill, she rested her hands on her hips and considered him from under hooded eyelids. He was right. This was the biggest break they'd had since they'd arrived in Europe.
"I did okay on the mission in Paris," he pointed out. "Even Graham said so."
Sighing, she walked around to her side of the bed and sat down again, facing him. "You did more than okay. You did great." Smiling, she reached out and picked at the odd bit of dried Nutella in his hair. "I don't want to keep putting you into these situations where you could get hurt."
"I know." He shrugged, his face placid. "Face it, honey. I'm married to you and you're a spy and we're both involved in the spy world. This will keep coming up."
Nodding, she brushed her fingers through his hair and then dropped her hand to her lap. "I'm not a very good spy if some random person can put a phone in my purse and I don't even notice." She lowered her gaze to the jumble of twisted sheets and blankets of the unmade bed.
His response was swift. "Hey, that's not fair and you know it," he said in a tone that was firm yet gentle. He took her hand in both of his and softly rubbed the top of it with his thumb. "We were around literally hundreds of people yesterday. Someone could have slipped it in your purse at the Hard Rock Café, or at the tournament. You didn't have it right next to you during the games. How could you? Or it could have happened at dinner last night at Leidseplein." With a finger, he lifted her chin. When she looked into his eyes, she didn't see disappointment or blame. There was only understanding and love. "Give yourself a break."
Still feeling pretty miserable, she swallowed hard and replied softly, "Okay."
Leaning forward, he kissed her tenderly. As he sat back, he blurted out, "Oh!" He blinked a couple of times. "The phone being put into your purse had to have happened sometime yesterday, right?"
"Yeah, so?" Sarah could almost see a blinking light bulb over his head. "What are you thinking?"
"If this mysterious person with the creepy voice had something diabolical in mind for us, don't you think he or she would have done the deed then, when they were so close to us?"
"Maybe. But there were a lot of people around and we were in a very public place."
"But the flower market is public, too," he countered. "It's not any different then the kinds of places we were going to yesterday."
"That's true." Sitting up straighter, she added, "And why call us today and essentially warn us? Why go through this crazy cloak and dagger stuff at all?"
"Right. It seems like they've made it harder for themselves if he or she want to trap us somehow."
Sarah nodded thoughtfully. "We'll have to stay alert, though. And we'll be armed."
"Of course," he said, bouncing his eyebrow. "I prefer it when you are." After a moment he asked, "I take it we're going then?"
"Like you said, it's too good of an opportunity to pass up." Brimming with nerves and excitement, she said, "Let's go buy some bulbs."
The words had barely left her lips when they heard a raised voice from the kitchen say, "Hey! Who took my Nutella?"
~ O ~
After consulting a map on Chuck's phone and seeing that the Bloemenmarkt was only a half-mile away from their apartment, they decided to walk to the rendezvous point. Hand-in-hand, they set off. Their route first took them down a narrow, cobbled street past cafés with colorful awnings and tables and chairs set out on the sidewalks. There was really no automobile traffic to speak of, and they only had to keep an eye out for bicyclists.
Before they had left, Sarah called Casey and filled him in on the mysterious phone call and told him where she and Chuck were going. While he seemed less than thrilled that he wasn't allowed to go as backup, he eventually agreed that it was a great opportunity to gain intel on Benoit and would pass on her plans to their superiors.
"What are the chances that the girls will be ready to go sightseeing once we get back?" Chuck asked as they walked down the narrow lane. Not wanting to leave the girls alone in the apartment, Casey had been drafted to keep an eye on them while they were gone.
"I'm sure they'll be ready, as long as Martie doesn't try to talk Casey into braiding her hair again." After glancing around to ensure they weren't being followed, she grinned up at him and said, "Hey, you never told me what happened when you carried the tray to the kitchen."
He studied her with an amused look. "I still say you cheated."
"Cheated!" she laughed. Playfully slapping him on the arm with her free hand, she asked, "How could I have possibly cheated at 'Rock, Paper, Scissors?'"
When the narrow lane ended at a canal, they turned left and walked along the waterway.
"I don't know, but I'll figure it out one of these days." When she smirked and popped an eyebrow up and down, he pointed at her and exclaimed, "Aha! You did cheat."
"I'll never tell," she stated. "Now, tell me what happened."
"Fortunately for me, Martie and Bridget were busy going through their suitcases looking for clothes, so they didn't see me sneak into the kitchen with it. Unfortunately for Lizzie, she caught me red handed." Sarah grinned at his hearty laugh. "The expressions her face went through after she saw the strawberry stems and her empty Nutella jar were priceless. After the initial shock, there was confusion, then understanding, which was quickly followed by horror and disgust. She kinda looked like she just drank sour milk. We promised to never speak of it again."
"Aw, poor Lizzie," she said. She really did feel bad for their eldest. She and Chuck tried to be discreet, but this time they got caught.
She felt him gently squeeze her hand. "She'll be okay. No teenager wants to know what his or her parents do, that's true. But I think once she gets past the 'ick factor,' deep down she's happy for us."
"This was just a little TMI," Sarah said.
Chuck's face exploded with a grin. "Look at you, being all cool. Next thing you know, you'll be talking like a 'lolcat.'"
Not knowing what that meant, she'd try to remember to Google it later. She felt safe, though, in assuming she wouldn't want to talk like any kind of cat. "Don't count on it," she said. That seemed to be the right answer since his grin remained.
When they reached Leidestraat, they turned right. It was a much busier street, so they had to keep a sharp eye out for delivery trucks and trams they encountered along the way. Sarah's previously relaxed and playful demeanor disappeared once the number of people and vehicles surrounding them increased. Going into protective spy mode, she continuously scanned the area as they walked. Chuck sensed her obvious tension and remained quiet. After another five minutes, they reached the floating flower market.
Sarah slowed their pace as her eyes surveyed the area. It was just as it was called. There were fifteen houseboats or so lined along the canal selling flowers, bulbs, seeds, green plants and even herbs. The entire area was filled with vibrant colored flowers. They walked along the street, counting the houseboats until they arrived at the seventh. At the front of the store, bunches of cut flowers of all kinds of colors and varieties stood for sale in buckets of water. Flowers still in pots sat on tables ready to be purchased and planted in gardens.
Sarah tightened her grip on Chuck's hand as they walked into the houseboat proper. Had she not been so distracted by the fact that there was no back exit to the store other than blasting a hole in the back wall with her gun and jumping into the canal, she would have found the smell of the flowers wonderfully intoxicating. As it was, she simply wanted to buy the bulbs as they were told, meet with the mystery person with the creepy voice and go back to the apartment.
They explored the store until they found where the bulbs were kept. Like a large checkerboard, loose bulbs of every different size, shape and color were stored in large, flat-sized rectangular boxes, each inclined for better display. A card with the name of the flower and a picture of what it would look like when it bloomed stood up at the back of each box.
There were an astounding number of choices. "Sarah, there're like five different kinds of red tulip. What if we don't pick the right one?"
"I don't know," she said. "The creepy voice didn't say anything about that and we sure didn't know to ask." Wanting to get out of the literal box they were in, she said, "Hopefully it won't matter." She found a small paper bag, opened it and handed it to Chuck. He held it open while she dropped in twelve "Red Riding Hood" tulip bulbs.
"Red Riding Hood, huh? Very droll, Mrs. Bartowski. Hoping to take the Big Bad Wolf out with an ax?" he asked with a small smile.
Her eyes flashed with determination. "Something like that."
They went to the register to make their purchase. When the gentleman behind the counter said something to them in Dutch, Sarah said, "Spreekt u Engels?"
"Of course," he said. "I'm sorry. I assumed you were locals. You don't look like tourists."
"We'll take that as a compliment," Chuck said with a smile, slipping his arm around his wife's waist.
Sarah handed the man the bag across the counter. When he peered down into it, she noticed his eyebrows rose. "I see you've chosen a dozen red tulip bulbs."
"Does that mean something to you?" Sarah asked.
"I was told when an American couple—a beautiful blonde and her handsome husband—comes in to buy what you have, I was to give them something. That is you, yes?"
"Yes," Sarah said, her nerves kicking into to overdrive. "What do you have for us?"
He reached into the back pocket of his trousers, took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to her. Before she opened it, she asked, "Can you tell us anything about the person who gave you this note. Do you know him or her?"
"He was young Dutch fellow, in his mid-twenties. I'm sorry, but it was the one and only time I ever saw him."
"It was worth asking. Thank you," she said, shrugging. As the man rang up their purchase, Sarah unfolded the paper. Her brow knit when she saw a name and address in cramped, scribbled handwriting. "It says 'Het Gulden Vlies.' There's an address," she said, showing the paper to Chuck.
"In English, it means, 'The Golden Fleece,'" the man informed them.
"I can look it up how to get there on my phone," Chuck said, reaching behind him to take it from his pocket.
"It's easy to get there from here," the proprietor said politely. "It is only about a kilometer north and should take you no more than fifteen minutes to walk." He handed her the bag and her change and pointed to his right. "Take the main street across the Signel canal to Kalverstraat until you reach the Dam. The street you are looking for is one block east of the National Monument."
"Thank you. You've been very helpful," Sarah said. "Dank u."
He smiled and gave her a small bow. "Veel geluk."
They walked off the houseboat and back onto the street. Folding the bag down as far as she could, she stuffed it in her purse and put her sunglasses back on. "I wonder why he wished us luck," she mused.
"Maybe it's like saying goodbye," Chuck offered.
"Maybe," she answered absently. Once out of the store, she could feel her irritation level rise. "We're back to square one. No, actually it's worse than that. Now we're told to go that way," she said pointing to the north, "when Casey, Morgan and the kids are that way," she finished, pointing southeast. Crossing her arms, she said, "Even if our mystery person is at this Golden Fleece place and we get to talk to him, it will be at least another hour before we get back to the apartment."
"I'll text Casey and see if he, Morgan and Vegas are willing to take the kids to NEMO without us." He took out his phone and sent a quick text.
"Are you sure that's a good idea? They'd have to take the tram."
"The kids are pros at public transportation now. And Casey and Morgan took care of them when we were on our honeymoon."
"That's true. The kids do seem to respond to Casey's unique style of combining boot camp and babysitting."
His phone blinged, announcing a text had arrived. Reading it, he said, "Casey says Amy's there, too, and would be happy to help with keeping track of the younger kids." With a chuckle he added, "I'm sure Fred will keep track of Amy."
"I'm sure," she deadpanned. "We continue on in our quest to track down the creepy voice?"
"Yeah, I think so. The kids are taken care of. We'll catch up with them at some point. Can I see the paper with the address again? I want to put it in my phone."
She held it out for him as he typed the address in. He pointed at another word written off by itself toward the bottom of the page. "It says, 'Faire.' I wonder what that means."
Her only response was a shrug.
Once he'd entered the address in and the map came up, she lifted her sunglasses to look at it. "It's at the western edge of the Red Light District."
"The Red Light…?" He looked more than little nervous.
"Chuck, it's fine," she said, laying a hand on his arm. "Not every place in the Red Light District is a brothel. There're restaurants and shopping. There're a number of historical things in the area, too. My guess is The Golden Fleece is a clothes boutique."
"Oh, good." She watched his whole body relax. "I'm not sure I'm up to, um, certain women trying to talk to, um…"
He's so adorable when he's flustered. "Sweetie, I'm armed and very dangerous. If anyone like that tries to talk to my husband, she's going to have to get through me and my very sharp knives. They'd better be careful. The Nasty Knife hasn't been unsheathed in a while." Lacing her fingers through his, she tugged at his hand to get him walking.
She flashed him a brilliant grin when she heard him sigh, "God, you're hot."
~ O ~
Their route north took them up a narrow, brick lined pedestrian-only street populated with clothing and shoe stores, perfume shops, bookstores, and eateries. Had they not been so focused on getting to their destination, they could have easily spent the rest of the morning shopping and exploring.
However, now that it was growing closer to lunchtime, everywhere they went seemed to get busier and more crowded, and Kalverstraat was no exception. The street was packed with people. Chuck and Sarah kept a firm grasp on each other's hands as they walked with the flow of the crowd up the street.
Sarah remained watchful and looked for signs that they were being followed. On three different occasions, she stopped them under the pretense of looking in a store window. She was actually sweeping the area to see if anyone else stopped at the same time. Since no one seemed to be paying any attention to them, they continued on.
It was a great relief when they emerged from the tunnel-like row of buildings along the street to the openness of the Dam Square. The square itself was plenty crowded as they walked through it, past the tall World War II monument and found the street they were looking for.
"This is more like an alley than a street," Chuck said as they dodged out of the way when a delivery truck rumbled past them. "It should be right along here," he said, checking the numbers on the front of the buildings as they walked past.
They were just about to walk into a less industrial looking section of the street when a yellow triangular hanging sign above a door caught her eye. The sign had the words, "Het Gulden Vlies" in stylized Greek lettering painted on it. It was the word above those that made her stop dead in her tracks right in the middle of the sidewalk.
Chuck stopped next to her. "Sarah, what is it?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
She tore her eyes away from the sign and looked at him. "Read that, Chuck," she said, tipping her head in the general direction of the sign.
A confused look came over his face, but he did as she asked. Watching him closely, she knew exactly when he read the word on the sign. His eyebrows shot up to his hairline and his mouth dropped open. A stunned "Uhhhhhhhhhhhh" was the only sound that came from him. After a moment, he managed to lift his hand enough to point and said, "Does that say…?"
"Mm-hmm. It says, 'Condomerie.'"
"And they sell…"
They slowly approached the store and peered through the front window. Three rows of unfurled and air filled condoms hung from fishing line strung from one side of the window to the other. The clear ones were filled part way with different brightly colored liquids. Interspersed amongst the clear were colored ones, making for rather festive decorations. To Sarah, they kind of looked like Christmas tree ornaments. "Condoms," she finally finished for him.
His whole head flared beet red. How the collar of his shirt wasn't scorched black, she had no idea. "Sarah, I can't go in there."
"Why not? They sell condoms." Eyeing him, she said, "I happen to know that you've bought them before."
"Well, yeah, at the grocery store, at the bottom of the cart under the boxes of cereal and gallons of milk."
She turned him toward her so they faced each other. Reaching up to straighten his collar, she could almost feel the heat radiating from his neck. Resting her hands on his chest, she said, "Look. We're a married American couple in Amsterdam and we're out on an adventure in the Red Light District. No one cares what we do."
He gulped, nervously looked through the window into the store and then back to her. Giving him an encouraging smile, she said, "Maybe our mystery person works here. We talk to them, get the information on Benoit and we're done. Then we can meet up with the kids and have a nice afternoon."
The redness in his face began to lessen and she saw his tension ease. "You don't believe that's going to be what happens now, do you?"
She ducked her chin and raised her eyes to look at him over the top of her sunglasses. "Honestly? No. But you know what? Except for the stress of making sure we're not being followed or going to get kidnapped, I've had a wonderful time spending the morning with you."
He reached around and laced his fingers at the small of her back. Pulling her closer, he said, "I agree. It has been a great morning." Smiling, he added, "If you don't count the mysterious phone call with the creepy voice."
With excitement edging into her voice, she said, "So, we go in there to see what happens next? You're with me?"
Like a pall lifting, the lingering apprehension cleared from his face. His voice was deep and sure when he looked into her eyes and said, "I'm always with you. I always will be."
There was no one in the world who could disarm her the way he could. After blinking a couple of times to combat the sting at the back of her eyes, she lifted up on her toes and kissed him. When she moved her hand to the side of his face, she felt his hands press harder on her back.
A group of young men walked past. Laughter broke out amongst them when one of them said something in Dutch to the kissing couple.
"I don't know any Dutch," Chuck said when their kiss ended, "but I think one of them just said we'd better get inside this store and make a purchase."
Lowering herself, she laughed and answered, "I think you're right. Ready, Mr. Bartowski?"
"Ready, Mrs. Bartowski."
Hand-in-hand, they entered the shop. A wide assortment of products was displayed on tables and shelves throughout the store. She had to admit that she was both surprised and impressed by the different colors, sizes and shapes available, as well as the different other kinds of "supplies".
At first, it was clear Chuck was still a bit hesitant about being inside the store, but he soon shook off his inhibitions. Nearly tripping over her as he craned his neck when he walked past a particular display, he said, "I find the Statue of Liberty a bit disturbing… and not particularly, ah, practical. I would think the torch would—" he gestured vaguely with his hands.
"I get it, honey," she said with a chuckle. She enjoyed his sudden enthusiasm and interest. "I think we could put that one safely in the 'novelty' category."
He smiled. "Form over function?"
"Mm-hmm."
"I guess the elephant would go into that category, too, then. Between the big ears," he held his hands out to the sides of his head, "the tusks," he added, moving his hands to his mouth and sticking his index fingers out, "and the trunk…" Grinning, he finished by putting his arm straight out in front of him and waving it up and down it like an elephant's trunk.
"Oh, I don't know," she said with an arched eyebrow. "It might be fun to see…" Her voice trailed off. She smiled when he stumbled next to her.
They meandered their way through the store to the counter. "Spreekt u Engels?" Sarah asked a fortyish year old woman with thin, blonde hair.
"Yes," she answered with a wide smile. "How can I help you?" Looking at Chuck, she asked, "Are you here to be measured for a custom fitting?"
Chuck's sudden snorting and gagging quickly turned into a coughing fit. Alarmed, the woman behind the counter asked, "Is he okay?"
Sarah rubbed his back as he coughed into one hand and held the other up to the woman indicating he was okay. "I'm good," he croaked, his eyes watering.
"You sure?" Sarah asked. They would laugh about the woman's question later, but right now, she was concerned for his well-being. She felt better when he sucked in a lungful of air and cleared his throat.
Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he nodded and said, "I'm fine now. Continue."
Seeing that he was okay, Sarah returned her attention to the woman. "A friend of ours wrote the name and address of this shop on a piece of paper and told us we should visit." She took the paper from her purse and held it out for the woman to see. "We're not sure what this word might mean."
The woman squinted at the paper and pointed at the word off by itself. "Faire. That is a brand we carry." She came around from behind the counter and hurried toward a shelf full of boxes. Moving her finger back and forth as she scanned the shelves, she repeated the word over and over quietly to herself. "Ah! Yes. Here it is." She took a purple box from the shelf and handed it to Sarah.
"Um, wow. That's a big box," Chuck said.
All this is so weird. "Would you excuse us for a moment?" Sarah asked the woman.
"Of course," she said and walked back to the counter.
Lowering her voice, Sarah said, "Chuck, what are we supposed to do? Should we buy these? We didn't get any instructions from the creepy voice."
He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. "I don't know. I don't think the woman behind the counter is the person we're looking for." He looked around the store. "And everyone else in here is concentrating on their own purchases."
She glanced down at the box in her hand and then back to Chuck. "The last time we were at a store, we got another clue when we bought something. I think this is what we're supposed to get." She shook her head. It simply made no sense.
When they arrived back at the counter, the woman who had been helping them was busy with other customers. A man about the same age as the woman walked out from a back room and came to the counter to help them. Sarah noticed a change in the man when he saw the box in her hand. "Are you Americans?" he asked.
"Yes, we are," she said, studying him closely. Had they finally found the owner of the creepy voice and the information on Benoit? She really hoped so.
He nodded. "A young man came here yesterday and told me if an American couple came in here today and bought a box of that brand of condoms, I was to give them something. Are you them?"
Chuck's hand on her shoulder tightened. "Yes, we are," he answered this time.
The man handed him a business card. Chuck took and held it for both of them to see. The card was for "Restaurant ANNA" with a phone number and address. On the front of the card, "12 noon" was written in pen. Pointing at the name, Sarah said, "It's the same street we're on right now."
"Yes, Restaurant ANNA is just up the street," the man said as he worked the cash register.
"Twelve noon." Chuck looked at his watch. "That's in ten minutes."
"I guess that's where we go next," Sarah said, taking the bag from the man. Crazy wasn't even beginning to describe this whole thing anymore. But, as they'd come this far, they might as well keep going. "Maybe this time?"
Chuck wafted his palms and shrugged. "It would make sense. The creepy voice can talk to us at lunch."
"Thank you," Sarah said to the man as they turned to leave. Once out of the store, they turned right and walked the short distance to the restaurant. Entering through the glass double doors, they stopped at the reservation podium. "Hello," Chuck said, to the young woman staffing it. "We were told to come here at noon."
"Do you have a reservation?"
He looked at Sarah who raised her eyebrows. "Bartowski?" he offered, more to her than to the woman working at the desk.
After checking her list, she grabbed a couple of menus and said, "Yes. We have a table ready for you. Follow me, please."
They followed the young woman down the center aisle of the narrow restaurant. All the tables were covered with white table cloths, water and wine goblets, and white cloth napkins. The black, square chairs at each table gave the place an elegant look without being stuffy. They were shown to a table for two.
That was a surprise. "I thought perhaps we would be meeting someone here?" Sarah ventured.
The woman tipped her head and answered, "I don't believe so. The reservation is for two."
Chuck laughed and shook his head. "Of course it was. Thank you," he said to the woman as he pulled Sarah's chair out for her. Once they were seated, the woman handed them the menus, said, "Enjoy your lunch," and returned to her post.
"I assumed you would want to sit against the wall so you could see the entire room," Chuck said before he glanced down at the menu.
"You know me well," she answered as her gaze flicked about, taking in the other diners and the doors at the front and back of the restaurant. When she saw no one was looking their way, she leaned forward and said, "Chuck, this is nuts! In my purse I have a dozen tulip bulbs and a box of condoms. What the hell is going on?"
He looked back up at her. "I have no idea. There has to be an end to it. I just don't know what it is. But we haven't been threatened or put in any kind of danger. As a matter of fact, no one seems to be paying any attention to us at all."
Sighing, she sat back in her chair. "I know. There's a part of me that thinks I should be angry at the way whoever behind this is playing us, but I'm not. I think I'm more exasperated than anything else. I want to get the information on Benoit, but honestly, I'm not sure that's going to happen."
"Do you want to just bail out and go find the kids? How about I text Casey and Morgan to see how things are going?" He took out his phone and sent a quick message to each. A half a minute later, the response from Casey came. "So eloquent," Chuck said with a laugh as he held up his phone for Sarah to see his one word reply. "Fine," it read. After another half minute, he read Morgan's response out loud. "'This is awesome. Having a blast. Later!' Apparently, they're not missing us at all."
"If the kids are okay, and we don't seem to be in any danger, I say we keep going. Either our mystery person will finally reveal himself or the clues stop." She quickly perused the menu. Resting her elbow on the table and her chin in her fist, she eyed him and said, "I'd hate for our reservation here to be wasted. The food looks good here."
"It does. Let's eat."
~ O ~
They'd just finished sharing dessert when their waiter brought them their check. On the small tray under the receipt was another piece of paper. Chuck picked it up, glanced at it and handed it across the table to Sarah. "Look, another note from our friend."
"Of course," she said, sarcasm evident in her voice. She took the paper and saw that they were now instructed to go tour the Royal Palace. "Maybe the creepy voice is Queen Beatrix."
Laughing as he placed euro notes on the tray to pay their bill, he said, "The way this day is going, I wouldn't be surprised if we walked in and they immediately escorted us to meet her."
A tiny smile curled on Sarah's lips. She leaned on her elbows resting on the table and said, "Wouldn't that be something? Martie would flip if she found out we met a queen."
Her husband mirrored her pose. Their faces inches from each other, he said, "She would. If we meet her, we'll get some pictures," he said with a small chuckle. "Are we ready to go?"
"Mm-hmm. The room is secure."
"And you know this because…"
Never moving her eyes from his she said in a low voice, "The couple at the table behind you is engaged in some kind of heated, whispered argument, the tableful of businessmen are on their third round of liquid lunch, the first date three tables over from us is a bit awkward but they like each other, the young woman that seated us is dating one of the chefs and a woman wearing a green top should be coming from the ladies room just about now."
As if by magic, a woman in a green top exited the ladies room, walked past them and rejoined her dining partner.
Chuck's smile grew. "Impressive, Agent Walker." Bouncing his eyebrows, he said, "What about the table with the beautiful spy and her nerdy companion?"
"Oh, them," she said with a smirk. "They're just a boring married couple who never have any fun."
"That's too bad. Sounds like they should get out more." He bridged the small gap between them and pecked her lips. "Speaking of getting out more, we have a palace to visit, don't we?"
"Yes, we do," she answered. They left the restaurant and walked back the way they'd come. They went past the National Monument, across the Dam square to the Royal Palace. They spent the next ninety minutes exploring the opulent building. In the main entry, the floor, the walls and the statues were all marble. They tipped their heads back and stared up at the soaring painted arched ceiling high above them. Below their feet were world and stars maps inlaid into the marble floor. As they wandered from room to room, they were awed by the ornate furniture, and stunning works of art, whether they were marble busts, gilded clocks, silver candelabras or huge paintings of kings and queens and men on horses. The deep, rich hues of the rugs over the marble floors and coverings on the walls and windows made each room magnificent and luxuriant. Crystal chandeliers hung everywhere.
When they were done in the palace, they exited and walked out into the bright afternoon sunlight. The square was even more crowded with people—and pigeons—than it was before they went to tour the palace. "Next to the palace, our house in Beaver Creek is like a shack," Chuck said.
She laced her fingers through his. "I prefer our 'shack,' thank you very much."
"Love shack, baby," he sang, which earned him a hand squeeze. "And sadly, we didn't get to meet the queen," he said as they strolled across the square.
"No, and we don't have a new clue, either. We're just left here hanging," she said, her frustration clearly evident in her voice. "Now what do we do?"
"I think we have two options. We either leave and go find the kids or we stay here for a little while to see if something shakes out. I say we wait a little while."
She slowly blew out a breath. "You're right. Maybe they're here and just making sure it's clear." They wandered over to a flat marble bench and sat down. They alternated between studying the architecture of the buildings around the square and people watching.
Sarah jumped with surprise when, fifteen minutes later, the burner phone in her bag rang. Grabbing it quickly, she answered, "Yes?"
"Come to the National Monument," the creepy voice instructed. The call ended before Sarah could even respond.
"National Monument," she said to Chuck, closing the phone and dropping it back in her purse. She saw her Smith & Wesson there and wanted to put it in her waistband for easier access, but her attire wouldn't accommodate for that. She really hoped it wouldn't come to guns, anyway. There were too many people around. Her knives would have to do if it came to it.
They stood from the bench and strode across the square to the tall, conical pillar. They stopped and waited on the first wide, flat brick step that encircled the monument. Sarah's eyes were sweeping the area to their right when she heard her name called from the left. It wasn't what she expected. It wasn't "Walker" or "Bartowski." It was "Aunt Sarah." Spinning around, she saw a grinning Megan running at her in a flat out sprint. Shocked to see her, Sarah bent down and caught her up in her arms when the little girl slammed into her. "Aunt Sarah!" she cried again. Megan's arms squeezed Sarah's neck so hard, she nearly choked. "Megan, sweetie! What are you doing here?"
When she stood up with Megan clinging to her, Martie was in Chuck's arms. The rest of the family approached. Still stunned, Sarah looked into the faces of her nieces and nephews—and Amy—grinning back at her. Morgan was smiling, too, of course, and even the corners of Casey's mouth were slightly upturned. She lurched and nearly dropped Megan when she looked into one face at the back of the group she didn't expect to see. No. It couldn't be. But it was.
"Carina! What? How? What? How?"
"Marriage and parenthood has done wonders for your communication skills, Sarah," Carina said as she slipped through the group and came up to her. When Sarah loosened her grip on Megan, the little girl slid down her like a firehouse pole and deftly landed on her feet.
"Look, Aunt Sarah! Aunt Carina found us!" Megan announced, clapping and jumping up and down with excitement.
"I can see that!" Sarah answered with a bewildered laugh, giving her friend a hug. "Carina—"
Before Sarah could say anything else, Carina whispered in her ear, "You've been following my clues, I see. Have you had a nice day?"
Sarah gasped and stepped back from the hug. "Wait! You? You were the voice on the phone?"
Carina's only response was a sly smile and an arching eyebrow.
"Why? Why send us all over Amsterdam today? Why not just call me? How do you even know we were here? And who I'm looking for? Do you even have any—?"
"Whoa, slow down there, Walker. I'll answer all your questions." When Megan tugged on Carina's pants and gave her a frown, she sighed and rolled her eyes. "Bartowski," she mumbled, correcting her mistake.
Sarah laughed, bent down and kissed Megan's cheek. "I missed you today," she whispered to the little girl.
"Did you and Uncle Chuck have a fun adventure today? Aunt Carina did it," Megan told her, her eyes wide with excitement.
"We did. I'm really surprised. I want to talk to her and hear all about it. Once I hug your brothers and sisters hello, that is."
Chuck and Sarah took turns greeting their kids with hugs and kisses. When they finished making the rounds, Chuck said to Casey and Morgan, "I thought you were going to take the kids to the science museum."
"Oh, come on, Chuckie. A science museum? That's totally laaaaaame," Carina said, triggering an outbreak of snickers from the kids. Smirking, she sidled closer to Chuck and put a hand on his arm. "Of course, you are a supernerd, so I can see where you'd think that would be fun."
Before Sarah could tell Carina to get her hand off her husband, seven throats loudly and pointedly cleared. Carina quickly dropped her hand and stepped back. "The natives can sure turn on you fast," she grumbled under her breath so only Sarah could hear it.
"Keep your hands off my husband and there won't be any problems," Sarah advised her in a whisper.
"Copy, that," Carina mumbled. Brightening suddenly, she said, "Anyway, these kids needed to have some fun, so we came to Madam Tussauds." She hitched a thumb over her shoulder to point at the building across the street.
"It was really cool, Aunt Sarah," Martie said, looking up at her. "There are all these people made out of wax. They look like they're real."
"They did look real," Lizzie said. The rest of the kids nodded.
"There was a Fiona from Shrek," Megan informed her.
"And we got to see the queen of the Netherlands," Martie beamed. "The wax one anyway, but it was still really cool!"
Sarah winked at her husband and then grinned down at her niece. "You're so lucky."
"There were a bunch of sports guys, too," Fred said. "Some of them were footballers," he slid his gaze over at Amy who smiled at his use of the word, "so we didn't know who they were."
"Speak for yourself," Amy said. To Chuck and Sarah, she said, "I knew who they were. And laddie will learn eventually, too, if he starts paying attention to soccer." She said the last word with an American accent, which got everyone laughing. Fred, of course, looked like he would burst into song at any moment. But then again, he appeared that way whenever Amy spoke to him or even glanced his way.
Carina inclined her head toward Sarah's and said, "I like the redhead. She's feisty. The kid has good taste."
Sarah snorted. "Feisty redhead. Hmm. I wonder why you like her." Squinting at Carina, she asked, "When are you going to answer my questions?"
Carina simply smiled at her and called out to the rest of the group, "Let's take the tram down to Vondelpark and hang out."
"Carina, it would be nice if you asked before you made decisions for us like that," Sarah said.
Her friend gave her a baffled look. "Why start now?"
~ O ~
The kids, Morgan and Chuck laughed and shouted as they played an impromptu game of tag. They had taken over a swath of the green grass of Vondelpark as they ran and chased each other. Casey watched the game from a park bench, happily puffing on a cigar, the smoke drifting away on the gentle breeze. A short distance away, Vegas sat on the grass near a trio of Americans playing bluegrass music for the small crowd that had formed around them.
Carina, sitting on a bench next to Sarah, glanced over at Vegas who was happily tapping his foot to the tempo of the music and asked, "What's with Hillbilly Hank over there?"
"Be nice," Sarah said with a chuckle. "He became a bluegrass fan when he went to a festival in Vail just before our trip here."
Carina dipped her chin and gazed at her over her large, fashionable sunglasses. "Banjos? Really?"
Sarah shrugged. "There's usually a lot of beer at those things, too."
"Ah. That makes more sense." Tipping her head back, she said casually, "Where's that yummy Agent Barstow? I haven't seen him. Did he come along on the trip?"
"Yes, he's a part of the team here. He's on his way back from doing some advance recon work in Berlin." Sarah folded her leg and turned sideways on the bench to face her friend. Resting her arm across the top of the back, she said, "Speaking of our trip, how did you know we were in Amsterdam?"
"You know I keep in touch with Lisa. She told me all about the video game tournaments." Carina frowned and shook her head. "Video games? Really Sarah? You've turned into such a nerd."
"A nerd that can still kick your ass from here to Berlin," she said without hesitation. "Which I might do right now." Her irritation with her friend flared suddenly. "What the hell was all that about today, sending Chuck and me all over the city on some crazy wild goose chase?"
"It wasn't all over the city. It was the Red Light District," Carina said with a sniff.
"Whatever."
"And you should thank me for sending you on your 'wild goose chase' today. I was being nice."
"Nice! How was getting calls on a burner phone with an altered voice 'nice'? You could have just called me on my regular phone."
"Please, that's too easy," Carina said, waving a hand dismissively. With a smirk, she added, "You know how I like to make an entrance."
Snorting, Sarah said, "Well, that's true." She turned toward the group playing tag when she heard an explosion of laughter. Morgan lay spread-eagled on his back in the grass. Megan stood over him triumphantly with her fists on her hips and her foot on his chest.
"That kid's gonna be a hell of an agent someday," Carina said, looking over at the family. "You have her in weapons training, yet?"
Sarah turned and stared at her friend. "Carina, she's six."
Carina shrugged. "She seems ready. Earlier today, she came over to me and pointed out where all the exits in the room were."
"My little junior agent," she said with a mixture of pride and bemusement. "She overheard me talk about it with Casey once and now she does it, too."
Chuckling, Carina said, "She's only six and a better agent than some I know." When the game of tag started again, she looked at Sarah and said, "And for your information, I was being nice to you today. Lisa told me about the sleeping arrangements in London and Paris. Because of me, you and your nerd had a nice day together, just the two of you without the kids. Although I would have thought you would be more on edge than you appear to be. What–"
"Chuck and I have our own bedroom here in Amsterdam," Sarah interrupted.
A grin grew on Carina's face as she studied her friend. "Ahh." She turned toward the group on the grass, held up both arms with her fists forming thumbs up signs, and yelled out, "Way to go, Chuckie!" Chuck, clearly puzzled, settled for waving back.
Sarah snorted again. "You did something nice for Chuck and me? What's the catch?"
"I always do nice things. By the way," Carina said, lowering her voice, "give."
"Give? Give you what?"
"The condoms. I have a date tonight." She put out her hand, palm up.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "And there it is. So, basically, we ran errands for you today," she stated to the expectant redhead.
"Well, yeah," she responded as if it should have been perfectly obvious. "I'm going to do something nice for someone else tonight."
Shaking her head with a chuckle, Sarah took the box from her purse and handed it to her friend. "That's a pretty big box."
Carina's smirk and raised eyebrow made her laugh harder. "Poor guy," Sarah said.
"You have no idea," the redhead answered with a sly grin.
"Okay," Sarah said, "the condoms, I get. What's with the tulip bulbs? I can't see you planting a garden."
Carina sat up straighter and grinned. "Speaking of gardens! Has Chuck planted—"
"Stop right there," Sarah warned with a growl.
"You're no fun," Carina sulked. Like lightning, the pout changed to an evil grin. The sweet voice didn't match the face when Carina shook the box and said, "Take some."
"No thanks."
"Ah-HA!"
"'Ah-ha' what?"
"Don't want condoms! You and Chuckie are—"
Sarah blew out an annoyed breath. "Carina, I told you this before. I'm not having this conversation with you."
Carina shrugged and stuck the box in her purse. "Okay. Can't blame me for trying."
Her friend giving up so easy actually made Sarah more nervous than if she'd kept at her. Deciding to keep her distracted, she took the bag of bulbs from her purse and handed them to Carina. "Are you going tell me about the bulbs?"
Carina pushed the bag back toward Sarah. "They're for you. A little souvenir from the Netherlands for you to plant in Colorado. I want to see which 'germinates' first. You or the bulbs."
Sarah stared at her for a moment and then burst out laughing. "You're insane."
Dipping her head, Carina said wryly, "Thank you." With a grin, she added, "I just wish I could have been at the Condomerie when you were there."
"It was definitely an experience I'll never forget," Sarah said, grinning.
"Ha! See? You did have fun!" Carina crowed with a smug look.
"Yes, we had a wonderful day, thanks to you," Sarah finally admitted. Still curious, she asked, "The phone?"
"Paid a guy to slip it into your purse at the Buy More. He did the notes, too."
"That's what I figured. Was it you on the phone?"
"Oh, yeah. That was me."
"You know, you didn't have to be with the kids today. Casey, Morgan and Vegas could have handled it."
"Someone had to save them from the science museum," she said airily.
"I bet you didn't even know they were going to the science museum until you showed up at the apartments. You wanted to spend time with them."
Carina stared at her, her face neutral.
Knowing Carina would never admit to her true motivation, she asked instead, "How did you find where we're staying?"
"I told you, Lisa. She didn't know I was going to be here, though. I wanted to surprise everyone."
"You did manage to do that. What are you doing here, anyway?"
"The DEA sent me here to work with Dutch authorities on enforcement. Show them some of our methods. There's a new, stricter drug law that was passed that makes it illegal for coffeeshops to sell marijuana to non-residents and tourists. They're just starting to enforce it the southern provinces along the borders."
"What are you doing for them?"
"I go to the coffeeshops that are supposed to be 'members only'—meaning only Dutch citizens can get a membership card to go in and buy stuff—and try to get one as Elin Hallström, Swedish national."
"A sting."
"Yup."
"And?"
"So far, most are obeying the law. Some aren't."
They turned to watch the game of tag again. After another moment, Sarah asked, "So tell me. How do you even know I'm looking for Benoit anyway? Lisa shouldn't be talking about my mission on an open channel."
"Unclench, Sarah. Lisa didn't say anything. All the agencies are in on this and your name is on the resource list. I figured Graham's 'best agent' would be the lead for the CIA." Carina paused and then continued, "You know, I wonder why my boss, Charlie, doesn't call me his best agent."
"It might have something to do with the fact that you try to personally 'vet' all the new male DEA recruits," Sarah said drily.
Carina tossed her head. "Not all the recruits. Only the cute ones. Just making sure the Agency's checks are thorough." Her eyes narrowed. "I wonder if Charlie's the one behind all this nunnery recruitment mail I'm getting. I swear Sarah, every time I go back to Washington there's more and more of it stuffed in my mailbox."
Sarah sat up straighter. "Focus, Carina. Do you actually have any intel on Benoit? I figured it was just a way to mess with me."
"Would I do that to you?"
"Yes."
"Ha! Yes, I would. But this time, I didn't."
"So what's this intel?"
"He has a yacht."
Sarah's eyebrows pulled together. "Why wasn't that in your debrief with the DEA and the CIA?"
"I just found out. The DEA had a photo of a guy that was at Benoit's house once. They've been tracking down anyone who ever set foot in his place to talk to them, from majordomo to backyard pooper-scooper. They finally found him and sent me to 'interview' him since I was already in the 'neighborhood.'" Preening, she said, "He was more than willing to talk to me."
Snorting, Sarah said, "I'm sure. What part of the 'neighborhood' was this?"
"Port Grimaud."
"On the Cote d'Azur? Nice work if you can get it," Sarah said, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, the guy was really slumming," the redhead said sarcastically. "Turns out he owns the company that was doing repairs on Benoit's secret yacht. He bragged about how Benoit even flew him up to Paris to pay him for the work done. In cash."
"That's not a big surprise," Sarah said, mulling the information over in her mind. "You never saw him at the house?"
She shook her head. "All this happened before I got there."
Sarah's mind kicked into overdrive. "If he's out on a yacht, that would explain why he seems to have completely vanished," she mused. "This happened months ago, though. If he is on this yacht—and we don't know that he is—he could be anywhere in the world by now."
Carina made a noise of agreement.
"Did you find out the name of the boat?"
She nodded, frowning slightly. "It's a strange name for a French guy to use. It's called, 'The El Dorado.'"
One of Sarah's eyebrows rose at that nugget of information. "Gautier told me he has a holding company called 'El Dorado.' I'll let Graham know. How come you came directly to me instead of up the chain of command?"
"You know how inter-agency 'cooperation' can be. It was faster to do it this way. Plus, it was a lot more fun."
"It was. Thank you, Carina."
Her friend dipped her head. "You're welcome."
Panting, Chuck walked over to the bench and sat down next to his wife.
"Looking a little red-faced there, Chuckie. Out of shape?" Carina asked.
"A little. Sarah and I were going to keep up with our jogging while we're here in Europe, but things keep, ah, coming up."
Carina snickered when Sarah grinned and leaned back to bump against him. "Good to know you're still fulfilling your husbandly duties."
"Happily. You ladies have a nice chat?"
"We did," Carina said with a purr. She lowered her glasses and winked at him. "We talked all about you."
He snorted. "I'm sure."
Lisa came running over and said, "Uncle Morgan's clipboard says it's your PDA time."
"Thanks, Lisa," Chuck said. To Sarah, he said, "We can skip it if you want. Thanks to Carina, we sort of had an extended PDA time today. If you'd like to stay here and talk with her, that's okay with me."
Sarah rested her head back against his shoulder. "Morgan's clipboard would be sad if we didn't have at least a short session." Craning to look at him, she suggested, "We could go over behind one of those trees over there and make out."
"Oh god, Lisa! I'm afraid to ask," Carina said, her face twisted in a grimace.
Lisa laughed and rolled her eyes. Sitting down next to Carina, she said, "It's a scheduled time in every city when Uncle Chuck and Aunt Sarah go off by themselves for a while and talk and kiss and stuff."
"Oh, brother," Carina groaned.
Laughing, Sarah stood and offered her hand to her husband. When he grinned and took her hand, she pulled him to his feet. "We'll be back in ten minutes," he called over his shoulder as they walked away. At her raised eyebrow, his grin grew and he said, "Fifteen."
As they sauntered toward the trees, hand in hand, Sarah heard Carina say to Lisa, "So tell me more about these guys from Luxembourg."
~ O ~
"How come Aunt Carina didn't come back with us to watch the movie?" Curtis asked.
Eyes glued to the TV screen, Bridget shushed her brother.
"She had plans tonight. We'll see her tomorrow before we fly to Berlin," Sarah answered him quietly.
"She told me she had a date," Lisa whispered.
That got Lizzie's and Amy's attention. "Did she say who it was with?" Lizzie asked. The heads of the blonde, brunette and redhead teenagers drew closer to quietly confer.
Lisa shook her head. "She wouldn't tell me. It's probably just some Dutch guy."
Lizzie popped her head up and looked around the room. Her eyes flashed with glee when she lowered it again and whispered, "Uncle Casey's not here, either. I bet they're together!"
"Wait a minute," Amy said, her brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought Casey and Morgan were together. Or does the big one swing both ways?"
Lizzie and Lisa slapped their hands over their mouths to stifle the giggles. "No, Uncle Casey and Uncle Morgan aren't together," Lizzie said, her voice muffled behind her hand.
Amy looked relieved. "Oh, good. Otherwise, it's hard to explain the look on Morgan's face every time he looked at Carina. He kept getting this stunned, lovesick look, like someone had just cracked him on the side of the head with a cricket bat."
Lizzie and Lisa both snorted. "And I don't think Aunt Carina even knew he was part of our group," Lisa said.
Amy nodded. "That's the other thing I noticed," she whispered excitedly. "Carina kept flirting with Casey. I kept thinking 'well, she's sniffing 'round the wrong dog,' but now it makes sense. I couldn't understand why he seemed to be enjoying it so." She flopped back against her cushion. "That's why I was so confused."
Having heard this murmured conversation, Sarah buried her face into Chuck's shoulder and convulsed with laughter. Chuck propped a hand over his mouth to hide his grin. When she was finally able to control her shaking, she sat back and swiped at the moisture under her eyes. Leaning in, she kissed his cheek and whispered, "Craziest. Day. Ever."
~ O ~
A/N the second: I won't be posting next week, Thursday, October 18th. I'm currently doing research and outlining the next few chapters. I do plan on having a new chapter ready to go on the 25th. Thanks for reading!