If this was Penny's idea of an impromptu party, Amanda couldn't imagine what her large, organized events must look like. There had to be close to forty people in a space that any normal person would consider a ballroom, even though Penny referred to it as the "drawing room." Waiters in black and white walked around with silver trays of hors d'oeuvres and beverages, and the women's jewels glittered under the light of the chandeliers. Amanda was grateful she had brought a gown. At least she wasn't underdressed.

They were almost an hour into the party and the guests had scattered into small groups, chatting familiarly with each other. How Amanda was going to raise the subject of a Russian contact willing to pay for an American agent with the undersecretary…well, she couldn't imagine. She could hardly march up to him and say, seen Lee Stetson lately?

"What are you thinking?" Alan asked. He was standing next to her, observing the room as carefully as she was.

She shook her head. "That I haven't a clue what to do now. When Penny said a small party, I imagined a dozen people. I thought I would have an opportunity to get the undersecretary alone. This is trickier. I can't go up to him when he's surrounded by others and start speaking Russian."

"You speak Russian?"

She closed her eyes. "Not really. I can remember a few phrases from the Agency's training tapes but I don't think I'll take a second helping of borscht is going to be useful. The plan was for him to hear me use a couple of words. After that, my friend Zhmed was going to provide proof that I know I real Russian."

Alan nodded. "You wanted to get the undersecretary's attention and then have him pursue you."

"Exactly."

He observed the clusters of people, zeroing in on the one containing the undersecretary. "We could still do that, I think."

"You do? What did you have in mind?"

"How upset would your friend Penny be if you and I had an argument?"

"An argument?" Amanda frowned. "You mean, like yelling at each other in the middle of the party."

Alan smiled. "Not that much of an argument. Just a discussion loud enough for the undersecretary to hear from a few yards away."

Amanda glanced at Penny. She was across the room on Raisa's arm, listening to her husband converse with a man she'd introduced earlier as the minister for agriculture. There was a polite smile on the princess's face, but Amanda thought she looked bored. It was understandable. Given that Zakir was largely desert, how much agriculture could the minister have to talk about? Nevertheless, he was doing his best, chatting away happily, delighted to have the royal couple's time. Penny caught Amanda's eye and raised one eyebrow.

"I don't think she'll mind," Amanda replied, "provided we don't break anything."

"Okay." Alan nodded. "Let's go get the undersecretary's attention."

"Now?"

"You're still sure you want to go through with this?"

"Yes."

Alan shrugged. "Then, no time like the present."

"Right."

They walked toward the group the undersecretary was in, stopping about fifteen feet away. Alan turned to face Amanda and quickly adjusted his expression from friendly to annoyed.

"We traveled all the way to Zakir to be with your friend," he hissed in a stage whisper. "Couldn't you forget about your contacts in Moscow for one night?"

Amanda opened her mouth in genuine surprise. She wasn't certain what she'd been expecting from Alan but diving straight into the argument was definitely not it. She was out of practice at staging these kinds of scenes, she realized. She'd been good at it with Lee, but it had been two years since she'd been out in the field with him. And Alan - helpful as he was - wasn't Lee.

Come on, Amanda, you can do this.

She swallowed. "I just want to make a quick phone call," she replied in a whisper that matched Alan's. "Believe me, it won't take long because I don't have anything to tell them. I haven't found what they're looking for. I think someone gave them bad information."

Alan shrugged and looked satisfied. "That's good, isn't it? You can tell your contacts there are no Americans here and then end the arrangement once and for all. It's time you stopped doing business with Russia."

Amanda glanced around surreptitiously. The undersecretary had his back to her but she was fairly certain he'd been watching just seconds before. "It also means I won't get paid," she said acidly. "I know you don't approve of my business arrangement with Moscow, but it keeps you in nice cars and fine suits. I haven't heard you complaining about that."

Alan managed to look defensive and a little embarrassed. He wasn't a bad actor. "Fine. Make your call then. I saw a phone in a small room off the foyer when we came in. I'll stay here and cover for you with the princess."

Amanda nodded. "I'll be back in five."

She left the room with brisk steps, not looking behind her. As she walked to the foyer, she listened for sounds of being followed. Either the undersecretary had quiet shoes or he hadn't taken the bait, because she heard nothing. He didn't buy it, she thought. Damn. Still, I may as well follow through on the scenario. It can't hurt.

The small room off the foyer held a couple of chairs and a desk with a phone. She picked up the phone and dialed Zhmed. She'd called him earlier in the day to tell him she planned to make contact with the undersecretary tonight. He must have been waiting because he answered on the first ring.

"Privet," he said.

"Privet," Amanda replied. "U menya yest' novosti dlya tebya." It was a phrase she had practiced with him at home, and it essentially meant, I have news for you - or at least that's the way she hoped it came out. Even to her own ears, her accent sounded appalling.

Zhmed replied in a volley of rapid Russian.

"English, please," Amanda said. "It will be quicker for both of us."

They'd agreed this was how they would start the call. Zhmed would leave no doubt that he was Russian and then they would switch to English. Please was the signal that Amanda was still trying to reel the undersecretary in. As for the rest of the conversation - they were going to have to improvise. She hoped Zhmed could think on his feet. Hell, she hoped she could.

"English then," Zhmed agreed. "You have news about the American agent?"

That's a good start. I can work with that.

"No news that you're going to like," Amanda sighed, sounding apologetic and a little fearful. "I visited the local hospitals looking for records of an American brought in two years ago following the bomb blast. None of them treated an American. I also reached out to the contacts I have in our intelligence community. They've heard nothing."

"You are correct," Zhmed said coldly. "I don't like this news."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want your apologies. I want you to try harder. My superiors are very interested in acquiring Lee Stetson."

Amanda pressed her lips together. "I work for the American government but I'm not an agent. I don't have their skills and I've used the contacts that I have. I've found nothing. I don't know what else to do."

"What about the princess? She is your friend. You are staying with her."

"She doesn't know anything about an American agent. She would tell me if she did."

"But could she get the information from her husband?"

Amanda shook her head. "I don't believe Rheza Khan knows anything about it either. He has a reputation for rooting out corruption. And he certainly has no need for the money."

"What about his staff? I presume they are all not as wealthy as he is."

Amanda paused. "I'm being careful there," she said slowly. "I could be in a lot of trouble if I say something to the wrong person."

"'Careful'," Zhmed repeated with a sigh. "I do not think your heart is in this, Mrs. King. You are giving up very easily."

"I'm not giving up easily," Amanda hissed. "You think I don't want to succeed? You promised me three hundred thousand to broker the deal. That's a lot of incentive. I'm just not finding anything."

Zhmed paused. "How long can you continue to visit your friend without raising suspicions?"

"A few more days."

"Keep trying, then. We will talk again this time tomorrow."

"But-"

Zhmed disconnected, leaving Amanda with the phone at her ear. They hadn't planned how they would end the call and the abrupt termination was as convincing as anything else she could have come up with. Unfortunately, when Amanda turned toward the foyer, she saw that it was still empty. It appeared she and Zhmed had put on a show for no one.

Squaring her shoulders, she began the walk back to the drawing room. She had reached the far end of the foyer when the undersecretary emerged from another room and grasped her arm above the elbow.

"Mrs. King," he said quietly. "I think we should talk."

Francine sat back from her computer and flexed her stiff fingers. She'd spent the last three hours trying to correlate Amanda King's work history with the Agency's list of Russian contacts living in the DC area in order to identify her Russian speaker. The number of names she'd come up with was surprisingly small. It wasn't that Amanda hadn't encountered Russians on her assignments with Lee - she'd met plenty. However, most were now detained in undisclosed locations or sent back to Russia, which meant they were unavailable to participate in whatever deception Amanda was attempting to pull off.

"What have you got, Francine?"

She looked up to see Billy standing at her shoulder. Wordlessly, she handed him the paper with the names.

"That's it?" He frowned at the shortness of the list. "Amanda's been with the Agency for seven years."

"I know. But it turns out she and Lee were a pretty effective team. Most of the Russians they came across are out of reach for one reason or another."

"What about the Agency's translators?"

Francine shook her head. "That's the first thing I thought of. We've contacted them all. They haven't heard from Amanda."

Billy grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. "Damn," he said quietly. Then he shrugged. "Well, the good news is we won't be spending a lot of time on this. We're either going to hit pay dirt quickly or we're going to strike out."

"You're mixing your metaphors, Billy."

"Spare me the grammar lesson." He continued to stare at the list. "You know, chances are it's someone who likes her or owes her a favor."

"That would probably be all of them. You know Amanda…" Francine's voice trailed off.

Billy nodded. "Yes, she has a gift for getting on people's good side." He handed her back the sheet of paper. "Let's try Zhmed Doorlof."

"Doorlof?" Francine raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he the human computer guy? You know, kind of a geek? Do you really think he'd be up for something dangerous?"

"If I understood Jamie correctly, it isn't dangerous for Zhmed. He just needs to make a phone call. Amanda's the one who's going to be in danger."

Francine pursed her lips. "I don't know, Billy. The Agency has hidden Doorlof - given him a new identity."

"Which I'm sure Amanda could work through in about a half hour. They had a good relationship. She and Lee rescued him from the KGB and got him into the defector program. He'll want to thank her for that."

"Okay." Francine shrugged. "I'll pull up his address.

One hour later, they were sitting in Zhmed's small apartment in Fall's Church. Francine knew right away that Billy had chosen correctly because Zhmed was nervous. He refused to meet her eyes and couldn't keep his leg from bouncing up and down.

"You've been in touch with Mrs. King," Francine began.

Zhmed blinked. "Mrs. King?" he repeated.

Billy gave an impatient snort and crossed his arms. "The situation is urgent, Zhmed, so I'm going to cut to the chase and tell you what we know. First of all, we know that you know Mrs. King. She and Lee Stetson rescued you from the KGB three years ago. We also know about Mrs. King's plan to recover Mr. Stetson in Zakir by pretending to be an intermediary for a Russian buyer. And lastly, we know that you're going to pretend to be that buyer. Now that we've got that out of the way, can we continue?"

Zhmed slumped in his chair. "Are you going to deport me," he asked quietly.

"What?" It was Billy's turn to blink. "No," he said, "we're not going to deport you. We want to see if you can put a stop to this before Mrs. King is in real danger."

"Put a stop to it?" Zhmed asked. "How?"

"Don't do the phone call with her…at least, not yet. Not until we've figured out what we can do to help."

Zhmed straightened. "You want to help her? She's not in trouble?"

"Not with me. And I'd like to get her and Lee Stetson back home," Billy replied.

"That is good news."

Billy nodded. "Yes, but to make it happen we need your help. You need to buy us time to get our agents in position. The closest agent is about a day away from Mrs. King. We want you to delay making the call until we can get him to her."

Zhmed's hopeful look faded. "I see. Unfortunately, there is a problem."

"What problem?"

"I'm afraid you are too late. I have already made the call."

Francine and Billy exchanged looks.

"Damn," Francine said softly.

The undersecretary was about Amanda's height with a slender build - not physically imposing. He had a grip like iron, though. As he continued to grasp her arm and steer her toward the door, she worried that her fingers were going to go numb.

"The palace grounds are lovely in the evening," the undersecretary said. "Why don't you let me show them to you."

His tone was cordial, but alarm bells were going off in Amanda's head. She was being led outside, away from Alan and the rest of the party guests. Still, she made no effort to break free. This is what you wanted. You can't chicken out now.

They walked out the door and onto the drive in front of the palace.

"Interesting place, the palace," the undersecretary said. "Did you know Rheza Kahn has a telephone in the foyer bathroom? It seems like poor security to me - far too easy to listen to someone else's conversation. I suppose the truly sensitive calls are made on a separate line."

Which explained, Amanda thought, why the undersecretary hadn't followed her. He'd headed straight to the bathroom and picked up the extension. Thankfully, she and Zhmed had held to their deception throughout their entire call. They had said nothing to suggest this was a setup.

The undersecretary continued steering her away from the palace. With his free hand, he gestured at the bushes lining the drive as if he really were giving a tour. "It is difficult to grow roses in Zakir," he said conversationally. "The climate is too hot. But the princess had to have them. I believe she said they remind her of home. So, she employs an army of gardeners to keep them blooming. Very expensive."

Amanda didn't reply.

"In fact," the undersecretary went on, "it is still warm, even at this hour. Why don't we sit in my car. My driver can turn on the air conditioning."

The alarm bells in Amanda's head became louder. Getting into a car with the man who very likely abducted Lee didn't seem like a good idea. But if she wanted the undersecretary to lead her to Lee, she couldn't run away from him. So, she allowed him to guide her to a black limousine and sat in the rear seat. The undersecretary took the seat across from her and shut the door. She was relieved to see he didn't lock it. She found him more menacing now that they were alone in a small space.

"Mrs. King, I confess I know little about you," the undersecretary said. "When Rheza Khan has guests, I often research them. It helps with conversation and allows me to look intelligent in front of the prince." He shook his head. "I recall only that you have two teenage boys and live in Virginia, and that you're a friend of the princess. That's nice, of course, but not particularly intriguing. Apparently, I should have paid more attention. Judging by your phone call, you have some interesting friends."

Amanda stared at the undersecretary and considered her words. Should she play the innocent and fall back on being a suburban housewife? Or should she admit to a relationship with the Russians right away? Which would he find more credible?

He heard your entire phone call, Amanda. It's a waste of time to deny it.

Fine. She'd get to the point. "Two teenage boys can be expensive," she said, "especially with one starting college in the fall. Even a dull suburban mother needs funds."

It was a good thing to say. The undersecretary smiled. "How on earth does such a mother make her contacts?"

Amanda opened her mouth, but hesitated when she noted that the privacy glass in the limo was down. The driver, whoever he was, could hear every word.

The undersecretary followed her gaze. "Oh, don't worry about Haazim," he said. "He's been with me for some time and his English is not very good. He is also very discrete. He can be trusted."

"To keep your secrets, maybe," Amanda replied.

"In this case, I think your secret and mine may," the undersecretary paused, searching for words, "may intersect." He waved a hand. "Haazim will not repeat what you tell me. Please go on."

Amanda gave the driver another look and then shrugged her shoulders. "Very well. I work for a company called International Federal Films. It's a government agency and it makes short movies. You know, public service, historical stuff - that kind of thing. Over the years, I've gotten to know a few people in U.S. security organizations."

"Agents," the undersecretary said. "You have met some agents."

Amanda nodded. "A few. Not many. And not necessarily high up. But similar to the way you saw me, I'm kind of invisible to them because I'm a suburban mother. They sometimes let things slip around me. Little things, but things that other countries are willing to pay for. The Russians tend to be the most interested - and the most generous. I've been doing business with them for about five years."

"I see." The undersecretary nodded.

"They recently heard rumors of an American agent being held in Zakir," Amanda continued. "His name is Lee Stetson, and the rumor is the people holding him are willing to exchange him for a...reasonable sum of money. The Russians know of my friendship with Penny Kahn and asked me to visit her and see what I could find out. Stetson is of great interest to them." She sighed. "Well...if you heard the phone call, you know the rest. My search has not been productive and the Russians are disappointed."

"Yes, that was clear." The undersecretary nodded again.

He wasn't signaling that he knew a thing about Lee. Amanda wondered why. Did he already have a buyer? Or was he really not involved? She tried to imagine what Lee would do in this situation to get the man to talk.

He'd tell you not to be too eager, Amanda. Make the undersecretary work a little.

She shrugged. "So, now I've explained my phone call to you. I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to Penny or Rheza. It has nothing to do with them, and I intend no harm to Zakir. If you don't mind, I'm going to return to the party now." She slid across the seat and reached for the door.

"Wait." It was a command, not a request.

Amanda paused. "If you're going to try to blackmail me, you'll be disappointed. I don't have a lot of money. You're far wealthier than I am."

The undersecretary chuckled. "Yes, I'm certain that's true."

"So, what do you want, then?"

He sat back and clasped his hands. "A man in my position has sources of intelligence that are unavailable to a foreigner...and a woman. I have heard similar rumors about an American agent and have information that might help."

"You do?" Amanda allowed herself to look hopeful. "What do you know?"

The undersecretary shook his head. "I want to speak to your Russian contacts directly. I'm not going to depend on a woman for what could potentially be a lucrative exchange."

Amanda had figured the undersecretary would say something like this. Still, she took her time. Don't give in too easily.

"You want to cut me out of the deal," she said.

He shrugged. "I'm sure you'll get something for making the connection, although maybe not as much as you originally thought. Still, something is better than nothing. And without my information, you will have nothing."

Amanda hesitated again, as if considering his offer. Then she sighed. "Fine. I'll make the introductions."

"Good. I suspected you would see sense. Let us go make the call."

"Now?" Amanda's hesitation was genuine this time. It gave her no chance to phone Zhmed and prepare.

"No time like the present."

It was the second time that night that someone had said that to her. She shook her head. "I told my friend that I would be back five minutes. It's been at least fifteen. He'll be looking for me."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the undersecretary's face. It was the first slip Amanda had seen in his polished demeanor.

"Very well," he said. "Later tonight then, after the party."

"Okay."