The Alpha Five Oscar (Part 4)


The man inspecting invitations at the door looked skeptically at the latest arrivals. "Mr. And Mrs. James Lunde?" he asked.

Lee Stetson smiled faintly and nodded. The doorman bowed them into the house and Stetson, with Amanda clinging to his elbow strolled down the short hall. Squeezing his shoulders together, Stetson struggled to look at ease in the smallish tuxedo. "Mr. Lunde has no shoulders, long arms and a big butt." He murmured to Amanda.

She stifled a laugh. "Mrs. Lunde is short."

Stetson stepped back to look at her. Actually, she was radiant, although the pants suit might have been a bit short. "At least her shoes fit." Stetson shuffled nervously, he was still wearing his pair of brown oxfords and he was feeling exposed. "There's nothing like wearing a pair of brown shoes with a tuxedo."

"Francine would have a cow."

Stetson smiled, they were a gasp away from being shot as spies or smuggled behind the iron curtain for the rest of their lives and she was cracking a joke about Francine. He took her hand, "Come on, let's mingle and see what we can find out."

The corridor opened into a great hall where there were a great many guests milling about, talking and drinking. Amanda tugged on his hand and pointed to a huge buffet table across the room, "Lee, I'm starving."

"Me, too. Let's go." As they headed towards the food, Stetson intercepted a waiter with a tray of champagne and appropriated two glasses. He handed one to Amanda.

"On an empty stomach?" she asked.

"Lots of carbohydrates."

As they approached the table, the crowd parted slightly and standing there was Vaskov talking to several guests. Stetson pulled up and turned casually away, spinning Amanda with him.

"What? The food is that way." She demanded.

"That's him."

"Him who?"

"Him who harpooned me this afternoon. Heavy guy, porking his way through a caviar sandwich." Amanda peeked over his shoulder. "The narrow faced rat with him is Galpin. KGB. Probably here to pick up Lehman and his program."

"He must be having a pretty disappointing evening."

"Not as disappointing as it's going to get." Stetson turned Amanda again so he could hide behind her, but watch the two men.

"You don't think he has George's papers yet?"
"If he did, he'd scuttle out of here like a pirate with his swag."

"They don't know me, why don't I just go over and get us a sandwich?"

"Wup. Nope, they're leaving."

"Great, let's both go get a sandwich."

Stetson gave her an impatient look, "Later. Come on, you've got to be my eyes."



Outside in the street, Billy Melrose and Francine Desmond sat in a car, watching the rain begin to splash on the windshield. They could barely make out where the lights of the Undersecretary's house made a dim glow in the night. George Lehman, behind them, hung over the seat back and licked the cream filling from a cupcake.

Melrose looked back at him, "Are you sure this is the right place? The Czech Undersecretary's own house?"

"Positive. Think they're still in there?"

"Until I get word from Scarecrow, I have to assume they are."

Francine sighed, "What are we going to do?"

"Wait."



Vaskov guided Yuri Galpin down a long hallway and into Maurice Kutcher's office. Stetson peered around the corner just in time to see them disappear. He surveyed the hallway. It was breathtakingly Spartan except for a few long benches against the walls. Amanda's head poked around the corner, "Oooo, boy, do they need a good decorator." Stetson rolled his eyes and pulled her back around the corner.

In the office, Galpin flipped through the pages of the computer hard copy. "Where is George Lehman?"

Vaskov shifted nervously, "He...uh....got away from us...an American agent helped him."

"I see." He indicated the papers on the desk, "This is good information, but Lehman was the primary target." Vaskov shrugged helplessly while Galpin pierced him with a cold stare. "This will not look good on my report." Vaskov bowed at the waist and hastily retreated from the room.

In the empty hall, he hurried away, muttering to himself. After a moment of silence, Stetson rolled from under one of the benches and Amanda rolled from under the other. They both scrambled to their feet, "Amanda, I want you to stay in the hall. If someone comes along, tell them...tell them you're the new decorator."

She nodded and Stetson slipped into the office. Galpin sat in a pool of light, reading the text of the computer hard copy. He didn't bother to look up as Stetson crossed the office, holding the pistol he had taken from the chauffeur.

"What is it now?" Galpin asked, still not looking up.

Stetson picked up the leather case from the desk, "I think I'll be having this and the papers you're reading, too, if you don't mind."

Galpin finally turned to look at him. "Ah. The staff thought you had escaped."

"Give me a minute."

"I don't think you're that good."

"Give me those papers and we'll see."

With a smirk, Galpin tossed the papers onto the desk. "Yes, we will."

"Stand up, turn around."

Galpin rose slowly and holding out his hands helplessly, he turned his back to Stetson. "Sorry, I don't have time to be more civilized." With that, he sapped him hard on the back of the head with the pistol, snatched the papers from the desk and bolted from the room.

Amanda waiting nervously in the hall was immensely relieved when Stetson rejoined her almost immediately. "That was quick."

Cramming the all the papers into the leather case, he propelled her quickly down the hall. "I persuaded him to cooperate."

Voices coming from the stairwell pulled them up short. There was no cover, no doors to shelter behind and the benches were well down the hall. Amanda shot him a panicked glance. Stetson shoved the leather case inside his suit jacket and swept her into his arms. He kissed her.

Unexpectedly, Stetson felt her stiffen. She didn't pull away but she wasn't as enthusiastic as he thought she might be. Not exactly. He pulled away slightly and looked into her face. Her eyes told it all. She knew it was a line of duty kiss and nothing more and she wasn't about to throw herself at a man who so obviously felt nothing for her. God knew, he had told her repeatedly that they were not involved. He couldn't blame her, she had to protect herself. Standing there with her in his arms, a wave of devastating loneliness broke over him. In that moment, he knew he never wanted to see that look on her face again. Knew he wanted her heart more than anything in the world. And knew that to get it, he would have to give his heart to her. His past roared up behind him like a freight train. Why would a beautiful woman like Amanda want a man like him? He tilted his head down until his forehead touched hers. "Amanda." His voice trembled. Then he looked back into her eyes. "Amanda, I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, Lee." She touched his face with tender fingertips. He slowly bent to kiss her again. This time, she was there. Relaxed in his arms. Kissing him like they were alone. But they weren't, dimly, he recalled the voices in the hall.

"Excuse me.....Excuse me. The party is downstairs only." Vaskov said.

Stetson deliberately buried his face in her hair, inhaling the smell of her and nibbling her ear.
She squeaked in surprise, "I'm sorry," she spluttered to the men, "It was just so....crowded....oh, honey.... down there."

"Perhaps it would be less crowded at home."

"Yes," she said, "what a wonderful idea. Come on, Sweetheart, let's go home."

Still buried in her hair, his lips brushing the smoothness of her skin, Stetson murmured, "Of course, darling."

Vaskov nudged Chebetok in the ribs with a leer and they went on down the hall.

Stetson and Amanda strolled down the hall arm in arm. When they were out of earshot, he whistled softly in relief.

Amanda let out a breath, "Wow."

He looked at her, not quite sure of her meaning, "We'd better move, they were probably on their way to that office and they're not going to like what they find."

They hurried down the hall to the huge curving stairway and started down the steps. The house was now jammed with people and the party was in full swing. Just as they reached the main floor, a disheveled James Lunde, clad only in his under shorts and shoes strode indignantly through the front door. The doorman caught hold of him. Lunde loudly began to tell his story, waving his arms and pointing his fingers.

"Uh-oh." Stetson quickly guided Amanda off in another direction. At the top of the stairs,
Vaskov pointed down at the crowd. He and Chebetok raced down. Stetson and Amanda hurried into
the thick of the party, the crowd flowing around them, annoyed by their abrupt passing, but unaware of
the drama taking place. They worked their way steadily towards an arched doorway and plunged through
it. They found themselves in a small hallway just as a waiter emerged from the kitchen with a full tray.
Stetson with Amanda in tow, ducked around him and burst into the kitchen.

The kitchen was enormous, full of hustling chefs and their assistants, stainless steel and the inviting smell of food. The staff barely looked up as Stetson and Amanda dodged around them. Vaskov burst through the kitchen door with a bellow, "Stop them! Stop them!"

Suddenly Stetson and Amanda became the center of attention. A pastry chef, putting the finishing touches on a huge tray of tarts glared at Stetson as they passed and pointed his whipped cream dispenser at him. Stetson snatched up the tray and hurled it at their pursuers, whipped cream flying everywhere.

Amanda, now a step ahead, reached another door, wrenched it open and stepped through, followed, a second later by Stetson. They were on a small roofed porch. She looked at him. The night was pitch black and it was raining hard. Stetson shrugged helplessly, grabbed her hand and they dashed off into the darkness. When Vaskov finally made it through the kitchen to the porch he looked out into an empty rain slashed yard.