Author: Claire Vincent
Disclaimer: The Clayton Webb character belongs to Donald P. Bellisario, Bellisario Productions, CBS, et al. All other characters and situations of this story belong to the author. No copying of this material is allowed without my consent. For you reading pleasure, one copy is allowed.
WEBB Odyssey
Adventures of Clayton Webb and his friends at JAG, and certain special someone.
CHAPTER ONE
TWICE
Clayton Webb finds himself in trouble, at what should be an easy assignment in Moscow. Luckily, he meets a special woman that helps him. If only he could see her more than twice.
American Embassy Complex,
Annex Building,
Moscow
2100 hours, Local Time
Clayton Webb moved swiftly along the corridor of the Annex Building. He was in a hurry to reach the Atrium before the end of the evening's session of conferences. It had been a long day, and it would not be over soon. The official meetings were scheduled to end soon, but there would be a reception of sorts in the Atrium when the principals came out from behind closed doors. One could say that the real negotiations would begin at that time, over appetizers and Vodka.
The meetings were going well. The agreement that was being hammered out would be an important one between the US and Russia. Webb's superior would be leaving in the morning, and Webb and his team would stay a couple more days to work out details of the arrangement between the Intelligence communities of the US and former KGB, whatever they were calling themselves this week.
Webb was confident nothing would go wrong with those plans, but he still could not shake the feeling something was going to happen tonight. He could not explain what exactly, just a prickly feeling at the back of his neck. It was defiantly there, and he could not ignore it. So he hurried down the corridor to be in place when the meetings ended. Webb did not see the shadow that stepped out behind him. He only felt the blow to the base of his head, saw everything go bright red with pain, then fade to black.
Annex Building
American Embassy Complex, Moscow
2115 hours, Local Time
PFC Baker was patrolling his section of the Annex corridor. Every few minutes he could see another team member, PFC Houser on the other end of the building. Everything seemed quiet tonight, even with the place full of officials from Russia and the US holding meetings. Even on the quiet night, his CO, Major Amelia Harris, kept buzzing in his ear piece for a report on his sector. He knew that was standard operating procedure, but it was quiet, and how often did a guy have to report in that all was quiet?
PFC Baker thought about Major Harris. A tough CO, but fair. And she sure knew her stuff about security. She should, she had worked in several different embassies around the world, had a degree in law enforcement, and knew how to run a squadron of Marines. She wasn't too tough to look at either, and had a soft side to her, PFC Baker could tell, but she didn't show it much to the men. Not that Baker had a thing for Major Harris, that wouldn't be right, and she was too old for him anyway, but he had seen uglier COs.
Major Harris' voice buzzed in his ear one more time: 'PFC Baker check on the camera near the SW stairwell. I am not getting a visual from that area.'
'Roger that.' PFC Baker answered, and starting moving in that direction. Probably nothing. Maybe the power cord was crimped between the mounting, and ...
But PFC Baker did not get a chance to finish his thought. As he rounded the corner to enter the stairwell, he was hit across the face with the butt of a gun, and PFC BAKER lost conscienceness.
Major Harris was just coming around the corner of the hall, on her way to back up PFC Baker in the SW stairwell, when she saw 3 figures emerge from the stairwell. Two people were dressed in black, and carrying guns. Between them they were dragging another person who looked sick. This person was dressed in a 3 piece suit, and his head was down.
Major Harris backed up a step so they would not see her. The two in black were moving down the hall as fast as they could with their burden, and were heading for the back exit. Major Harris looked down the opposite hallway, and saw the figure of PFC Baker lying in a heap on the floor. The Major very quietly called in orders for her squad. 'Marines, we have a code blue. Repeat, we are at Code Blue. There is a Marine down in the vicinity of the SW stairwell, and intruders exiting out the back south exit. Martin, cover my six, I am following the intruders. Jensen, you hold the fort.'
She heard the members of the squad acknowledge her orders over her ear piece, but her attention was on the three figures ahead of her. They were leaving the building, with someone, and she was going to follow them.
They left the building, and were making their way across the quad, toward a truck parked in the parking lot. Questions started popping in her mind. Who were these people? Where were they going? Who was with them? Was he sick, or being kidnapped? Major Harris did not recognize the person as a dignitary from the Embassy, but he looked in trouble, and she was going to stop these men, even if she was alone.
Major Harris took cover behind a large boulder in the quad, and fired a warning shot toward the three people. They immediately took cover beside a nearby car, and fired back, leaving their burden in a heap in the open. PFC Martin quickly came up behind Major Harris, and took cover behind a tree. The two intruders started moving toward their truck, leaving the other person behind.
Major Harris looked back at Martin. 'Cover me. I'm going after him.' Martin disagreed, 'Major I can carry that guy out of here better than you.' The Major answered him. 'I know, and you will. But you're a better shot than I am, and I would prefer you cover me and that man right now.' She ordered.
'Aye Aye, ma'm.'
On the count of three, Major Harris ran out from behind the boulder, and made a bee line to the prone figure on the ground, covered by rapid fire from Martin. She was able to grab the man's arm, throw it over her shoulder and drag him to cover behind another car. The other two intruders kept trying to fire to stop her, and Martin ended up killing them both. When the situation was clear, he joined Major Harris behind the car.
The man was regaining consciousness slowly as Major Harris was looking at his ID badge.
'Who is he ma'm?' Martin asked.
'A spook.' Was the Major's answer.
'How do you know, ma'm? His ID says State Department.' Martin pointed out.
'I wouldn't be much of a security officer if I could not tell a spook when I see one Martin. Besides, this one practically has CIA tattooed to his forehead.'
'Where...? Who are you? What is the meaning of this?' The man had regained consciousness, and was not very happy. He was looking angrily at Martin and Major Harris and the private did not like his accusing tone.
Webb's head was pounding, and he still could not see straight, but he knew he was outside, and could smell gun powder in the air. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know right now.
'Major Amelia Harris, and PFC Martin, US Marine Corps. We may have just saved your live, ah,' the voice paused as the Major looked at his ID tag for his name, 'Mr. Webb. We better get you inside and check for more trouble.' As the parking lot light fell across the face under the cap, Webb saw a small nose, high cheekbones, and big brown eyes.
'How did I get out here? What's going on?' Webb demanded.
Major Harris matched his annoyed tone. 'I don't know what is going on, but two men knocked you out, and tried to take you out of the building. I have to get back in there and do my job, before anything else happens.'
'What is your job?' Webb asked.
'Secruity.' Was the answer from the Major.
'Well, I'd say you failed in your duty, Major' Said Webb.
'Saved your life, didn't I?' retorted Major Harris.
Without giving Webb any warning, Major Harris signaled Martin to stand. 'Martin, assist Mr. Webb back into the Annex. Take him to the Comm Center, and see that a corps man gives him whatever medical attention he needs. Then rejoin the squad. We have work to do.'
'Aye Aye' answered Martin as he ungraciously grabbed Webb by the arm and pulled him roughly to his feet. Martin took acceptation to this man giving Major Harris a hard time, after she just saved his life.
'I'm fine, thank you Major. I will be going with you to get to the bottom of this.' Answered Webb.
'You will only get in the way Mr. Webb.' Major Harris answered as she started moving back to the building.
Webb was moving a little slower, but caught up with her again just inside the building. 'Major, you and your team will follow my orders, and I will get to the bottom of this.'
'Mr. Webb, I don't know who you are, or who you think you are, but I have standing orders for situations as this, and my team and I have trained for just these circumstances, and we will follow standard operating procedure.' Came the forceful answer from Major Harris.
Webb looked more closely at the Major. She might be pretty, it was hard to tell under the marine cap, and camouflage fatigues. She sure knew her job, he would give her that much credit. But he needed her and her team, to find out what was going on, before something worse happened. Webb was just going to force his point once again, 'Major, don't argue with me. I out rank you.'
'Out rank me? You are not even in my chain of command, coming from the State Department, if that is to be believed.' Answered the Major, as she began moving down the hallway.
Webb was reminded of another time when he wasn't in the chain of command, but was in someone's sights. And she was in his sights now, and he needed her cooperation. 'Major, I need....' But his argument was interrupted by the sounds of shots being fired in the building.
Major Harris heard them too, and took one last look at Webb. 'I have work to do Mr. Webb, if you will excuse me...?' As she and Martin started down the hallway, Webb could hear her issuing orders over her walkie talkie, 'Marines, we now have a code RED. Repeat, we are at Code RED. Begin converging on Point A, and...' her voice faded away.
Well, maybe she had a point. She had her orders, and so did her squad. They must have trained for situations like this one, they knew what they had to do. Webb sincerely hoped they did. He moved off in the opposite direction toward the Atrium, the same direction the shots came from.
Major Harris and her team began moving in toward the Atrium as quietly as possible. As was standard procedure in a code RED situation, the lights had all gone off in the building. This was to confuse, and set any intruders at a disadvantage, and the Marines at an advantage, since they could use their night vision goggles. Major Harris could see a couple of her men as they moved into position. She could hear shouts from someone speaking to the crowd. They were telling everyone to be quiet, and cooperate, and no one would get hurt. They identified themselves and started listing their demands. Major Harris only half listened, concentrating instead on where her team members were, and assessing the situation. One by one her people moved into position, and started checking in with her, verifying they were sighting on targets in the Atrium, and waiting for her signal to shoot, or move in as the case may be. Her best sharp shooter, PFC Cabirni was in position and had set his sights on the speaker, assumed leader of the intruders.
As Major Harris scanned the crowd, she noted details: How many bad guys were there? How many in the crowd? Was anyone in any immediate danger, or being held at gun point? And that is when she saw him. Mr. Webb had been caught again and was being dragged up to the front of the crowd, a gun pointed at his head. She mentally rolled her eyes in frustration. 'And he had the gall to accuse me of not doing my job.' she thought.
Cabirni whispered in her ear over the ear piece. 'Should I change targets, Major, for the one holding the American at gunpoint?'
'Negitive' came the answer from the Major 'Stay on the speaker, I will take care of Mr. Webb.'
As the speaker continued with his demands, and the group of intruders closed in on the crowd, Major Harris made her decision. The intruders were going to break up the crowd and spread them out in the building, so no group from the outside could come in and safe the hostages easily. She couldn't allow that. As long as the intruders were together, they were easier to catch for her squad. They would have to move now.
Major Harris whispered her orders to her men. 'At my signal, Cabirni take your man out. I have the one holding the American, the rest of you fire at your targets to injure if possible. We may need survivors to interrogate later.'
The Marines watched, and took deep breaths to prepare for the Major's signal. The Major in the mean time finally started listening to the speaker, to wait for the right time to move in. A few tense moments went by, until finally she gave the order. 'Go'
Shots rang out from every direction, a few in the crowd screamed and hit the floor. It was over in a matter of seconds. Some of the intruders lay on the floor with wounds in the legs, or shoulders. Two of them were dead.
Webb had been holding his breath, and when the shots rang out, he had ducked his head too, out of reflex. When he looked behind him, the man that had been holding him had a bullet hole, just right of the center of his forehead, over his right eye. 'Nice shot' thought Webb, as he let his breath go, and took another one to help stop his racing heart. 'I will have to commend the shooter, whoever he is.' He looked around the room, and saw the marine team move in and secure the intruders that were still alive, and check those who were not. Webb saw that the leader who had been speaking was dead, his eyes open in surprise, and his mouth open too, as if he was caught in mid sentence, which had probably been the case. The other agents moved in too, and sort of took over the job the Marines were doing. 'Trying to save face' Webb thought with a smirk. The Marines had ended up doing the Agents job, and doing it very well.
A Marine approached him, and asked if he was all right. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you,' was the answer. Then another Marine came up, 'Everything OK Mr. Webb? I hope we did not step on any one's toes by taking care of the situation.' He saw that it was Major Harris, and that she was smiling, and had a twinkle in her eye. No doubt put there by the adrenaline of the operation, and maybe some personal gratification at the job the Marines were able to do. He would allow her that. And the smile and twinkle looked very good on her.
'The Marines did a good job, Major Harris. My compliments to the sharp shooter who took care of this man.' Webb said as he nodded toward the dead man who had held him a gun point. 'Nice shooting.'
'You're welcome. I decided to shoot a little off center, so it wouldn't muss up your suit.' She said as she surveyed her work. Webb raised his eyebrows at that and looked back up at her. 'That's twice now' referring to how many times in this one evening she had saved his life. Webb did not know what to say. He was not used to being indebted to someone for saving his life. He knew he should thank her. He took a breath and made an attempt 'Ah...Thank you seems a little....'
'Your welcome.' She smiled back. She then looked at the Marine, who had been standing there watching the exchange. In the blink of an eye she went from smiling woman, to Marine Major, and started issuing orders to PFC Petty. When he jumped and left to follow those orders, Major Harris glanced once more at Webb, and the smile reappeared for a moment. 'If you'll excuse me Mr. Webb, I still have some work to do.' She turned to leave when another Agent walked up to her and Webb.
'Just a minute Major' It was Agent Galliger. Webb groaned inside. What did he want? Galliger was an untrusting, pompous, brute who did everything to make himself look good, and others look bad. 'You are Major Harris?'
'Yes' Harris answered.
Galliger continued, 'You are in charge of security, and it was your team who did all the shooting?' Webb was thinking, 'Here it comes, blame the Major and her team for the mess, and make sure the CIA and their security team is free of any blame.
'There will be an investigation of what went on here tonight, and it will have to be done quickly. The director leaves tomorrow, but there are several agents, including myself, who will be staying on a couple more days to wrap things up. We will be checking into what happened here, and where you and your Marine team could have done a better job at security and avoided this entire incident.' He waited for the Major's response, hoping to see her squirm, or get defensive of herself and her team. That would play perfectly into his plan of discrediting the security team Major Harris was in charge of.
'You will have my report first thing in the morning, Sir.' Major Harris smoothly replied.
'Oh, and I will see you first thing in the morning Major' Galliger responded. 'We will need to interview you and your team, separately, to get the full story.
'My team and I are at your service, Sir.' She nodded at Webb with a quiet 'Sir', and moved away from the two agents. They both watched her go, thinking their own thoughts. One was ready to place all responsibility for the evening's events squarely on those slim shoulders. The other, was just as determined to see one shoulder decorated on the front for a job well done. The agents looked briefly at each other, sizing each other up, then separated. The next morning will be interesting.
The next morning
US Embassy
Moscow
0830 hours Moscow time
Several agents had taken over a conference room in the Embassy to work on the investigation of the events of the previous evening. Most of them wanted to get the interview done quickly and finish up the conference with the Russians, and get home. This investigation was just a side trip to their work, that none of them wanted, but knew it had to be done. Through the night, some of the agents had discovered that the intruders had been planted by a faction in the political arena in Russia a long time ago, and had just been waiting a chance to get the most attention for their cause. Having the American Intelligence community all right at the Embassy, and so many of the Russian Intelligence group there too, seem too good to be true, and they made their move. It was not the fault of Major Harris and her team of Marine's that happened to be on duty last night. It actually was a break down in the whole security office of the Embassy, which fell under the CIA and other related departments. There was not much point in interviewing all Marines, but Galliger still insisted that the Major be questioned.
Major Harris had handed in a complete and thorough report of the situation last night, and all the agents had read it and were satisfied with its conclusions. The bad guys made a move, the Marines came in and saved the situation, with no injuries to agents, or the guests. The Marines even kept some of the bad guys alive for further interrogation. End of story. But Galliger was not satisfied. He still wanted to question her, so here they all were, waiting the arrival of the Major.
Clayton Webb was in the room too. He had gotten some sleep last night, but not enough, and was on his third, or was it his fourth cup of coffee? He was re-reading the Major's report and wondered if she had gotten any sleep. The report was concise, factual, and of course made mention of him, and how he had been caught twice, and saved twice by Major Harris. Although she had not named herself as rescuer, she only referred to the team doing their job in protecting an American in danger. Saved face for him, and he appreciated that. He smiled at the memory of her face as she reminded him that it was indeed 'twice' she had come to his rescue. He was startled out of his reprieve as the Major entered the conference room.
She was wearing her Marine uniform, a skirt and blouse today. Not dress blues, but not the camouflage of last night's duty. She understood this was an important meeting, and wanted to make a good impression. Webb thought she looked a little nervous, but was putting on a brave face. He also thought she had nice legs. She was shown a seat at one end of the table, and offered coffee, which she declined. She knew this was not going to be pleasant chit-chat over coffee between friends. The agents all took their seats around the table, and Galliger began.
'Thank you for coming this morning, Major' He said. Like she had a choice thought Webb. 'You may not have heard that our investigation has discovered the intruders last night had been in place for some time, and were just waiting for the right moment to strike. Your Marine team is not being held accountable for their breaking in, but we would still like to go over what happened and how you made the decisions you did in countering the situation.' Webb looked down at the Major's report in front of him on the table. I thought she did that in the report Galliger. He thought. And her counter measures were right on, and appropriate, and took care of the situation better than any of us did.
Webb looked back up as Galliger continued his questions, and the Major answered them. She is keeping her cool under the pressure, that was obvious. Webb thought.
He listened carefully as she answered Galliger's questions. She answered the questions clearly and concisely, accepted responsibility for her team's actions, kept her voice calm, even when Galliger's voice grew louder, and more accusing by the minute.
Webb also began looking at her, really looking at her. She was attractive, with big brown eyes that had interested him from the first. He saw that her hair was brown, with some red highlights. It was loosely braided, and tucked up at the base of her neck off her collar as uniform regulations demanded. He wondered how long it really was, and did she always wear it up, or only on duty. It looked thick and soft too, he rubbed his finger tips together at the thought of touching it. She was slight in build, petite, with small hands. But, she must be strong, if her report was to be believed. 'Injured American was carried approximately 30 yards to safety by Marine officer, as PFC Martin shot cover fire.' That would have been him, being carried by her from the line of fire at the back of the building. Webb hoped none of the other agents knew he was that American. He would never live it down.
Galliger was raising his voice just a bit, trying to make a point, and the Major was not effected. Good for you Major Webb thought. Yes, she was pretty, and intelligent, and not thrown off by brutes like Galliger. It might be interesting to get to know more about this Major Harris, Webb thought. He inwardly shook his head at the idea. What are you thinking Webb? Pay attention. And he sat up a little straighter in his seat and rejoined the conversation taking place.
'Mr. Galliger' the Major was saying, 'I was following standard procedure for situations where hostages are concerned, or Embassy security has been breached. I followed the training, and plans in place for handling these circumstances. To have tried to do anything else would have been counter productive for me and my team, since we have worked on these scenarios, and know what should be done.'
Galliger kept trying, 'Yes, but Major, if you had tried to...' But here he was interrupted by another agent. 'Mr. Galliger, I think we all know how well Major Harris and her team did in handling the situation.' Webb began. 'Hind sight is 20/20, and there may have been some other ways of defusing the situation, but the Marines did a fine job of handling it, with out any losses to Embassy personnel, or Embassy guests. I for one will be putting in a statement commending the performance of the Marines, and the Major, and hope it will, at the very least will be filed in their performance records, and possibly award them with citations. I do not think we need to take up any more of the Major's time. We have her report, and her statement, and that is all we need. Thank you for your time, Major Harris.' Webb said, looking at the Major with a nod.
Well, thank you Mr. Webb. Thought Major Harris, as she returned his look from across the table. Galligar was a little taken aback by all this. Webb was senior to him, but had not done any thing to slow the investigation to this point, and Galligar was a little put out by Webb stepping in, just as he thought he was getting to the Major. Before Galligar could say any more, the other agents had taken their cue from Webb, and were standing up, collecting their papers, and getting ready to move from the conference room, to the next set of meetings with the Russians.
In the confusion of people exiting the room, Major Harris was delayed in trying to get to the door to leave. In this time, Mr. Webb came forward. 'And I would like to personally thank you Major, for saving my life.' He said with a smile. 'Twice' she said, smiling back at him. 'Twice' he answered with a quiet chuckle. 'Major, I meant what I said. I will put in for citations for you and your team for your work last night. And I appreciate your keeping me anonymous in your report.' He added quietly.
She knew exactly what he was referring to. She had purposefully left his name out, from courtesy. No one really needed to know which American was in so much trouble in one night, did they? 'Glad I could help Mr. Webb.' She said with a knowing smile.
Clayton could not help himself. He enjoyed talking to her, and wanted another chance to spend some time in her company. 'Would you allow me to show you my appreciation to you by asking you out for an evening? The Ambassador is holding a formal reception this evening to officially close our negotiations with the Russians. Would you like to join me as my guest?' He asked. He wondered if it had been a good idea, but there was not going back now.
She was surprised by his request, and thought at first no, it was probably a bad idea. But she was intrigued by him, and thought, why not? 'Thank you Mr. Webb, I would like that very much.'
'Good. Very good. And its Clay.' It seemed silly, but he held out his hand to her, as if they had just been introduced. She took it, and smiled back at him. Her whole face lit up when she smiled he thought. 'Amelia. But my friends call me Amy.'
'Where may I pick you up Amy.' Webb asked.
'Oh...could we meet in the front hall of the Embassy? I live here on the grounds in military housing, and ...' she struggled to try and explain to him in a nice way that having a man pick her up at her efficiency apartment would start the rumor mill turning and churning for weeks. And an officer, in charge of several men, didn't need that. 'Ah...' he interrupted her, seeing her discomfort. He wasn't sure what she was concerned about, but he did not wish to make things difficult for her. 'Sure. I will meet you at say...7:00 in the front hall. It is formal you know.' He added. What if she didn't have a gown? Did Marine Majors have gowns on base like this? He panicked a moment.
'Oh yes, I know it is formal. I'll be ready at 7:00. And thank you again, Clay, for your invitation, and your help.' She added, indicating the room where the interrogation had gone on. It was now empty, and they were alone. They both suddenly felt uncomfortable.
'Until tonight then.' He said, and opened the door for her, and let her out.
That evening
Front Hall of the US Embassy
Moscow
18:55 hours Moscow time
Clayton Webb was uncomfortable waiting in the crowded hall for Major Harris. The thought had occurred to him that maybe she would show up in her formal dress uniform. And while that would be appropriate for the occasion, he sincerely hoped it would not be the case. He hoped he would see Amelia Harris tonight, not the Major. He also was nervous about spending the evening with her. When was the last time you were nervous to take out a woman? he chided himself. Calm down Clay. It will be a pleasant evening in the company of a lovely, intelligent woman, and that would be all, he convinced himself. That is of course if she ever showed up.
He scanned the crowded hall one more time, stopping to watch the door when he had not located her. She was not technically late, yet. Webb took a deep breath and kept scanning the room. He did not see her approach him from behind, or hear her say his name over all the voices in the hall. She finally had to lightly touch his shoulder to make him turn around. And when he did turn around, he did not recognize her at first.
Standing before him in a gown the deep red brown color of sherry stood a beautiful woman. The gown showed one bare creamy shoulder, and fell in a graceful, clinging drape down her body. It was not tight, but clung to her shape in all the right places. He looked at her face, and quickly moved down and up again in a glance, taking it all in. When he came back to her face, he saw the smile, a smile a woman wears when she knows she has caught her man's eye, and he approves, without saying a word. Webb returned the smile, and tried to think of something to say. She beat him to it.
'Thank you for the compliment Clay.' She said in a self assured tone. 'Shall we go in?' she asked. 'It would be my pleasure, Amy.' Clay held out his arm, and she slipped hers through it, and they walked up, in to the reception hall.
The reception was the usual round of small talk, dinner, and short, complimentary speeches that never really mean any thing. Clay knew very few people there, just some of the other agents, and their Russian counter parts. Amy knew more people, since she worked at the Embassy, but they did not recognize her since she was out of her customary Marine uniform. She did not seem disposed to remind too many of who she was anyway.
When Clay asked why she did not introduce herself, she replied, 'If I did, than they would have to say Hello to me in the halls, and get to know me, and I would get to know them, and that can get in the way of my job to a certain extent, if you know what I mean. It is hard to explain. Besides, I feel a little naked around some of these people with out my uniform and side arm.' Webb knew exactly what she meant, and then, for a split second the image of her naked popped in his head, and it steered him to change the subject quickly.
So, they talked mostly to each other. Webb learned that Amy was from Wisconsin, one of the few states he had never visited. He enjoyed the stories she shared of growing up with one older brother, on a small farm where they boarded horses. She loved riding, and they were both glad to have found a subject and activity they both enjoyed. He told her about his growing up in Virginia, but stayed away from his life now.
After dinner and the speeches, there was music, and they danced a few waltzes. Amy was impressed at how good a dancer Clay was and complimented him. He returned the compliment, and was enjoying dancing with her. She was the perfect size for him, just a little shorter than he, and she fit very well in his arms. She was light on her feet, and they sailed around the dance floor with ease. When the musical group took a break, he asked if she would like to walk outside to the balcony for some air. He knew he could use some cool air about now. She agreed, and they walked over to the French doors, leading outside.
The night was clear and cool, with stars lighting the sky. The moon had not risen yet, and the lights were low on the balcony. Clay asked if it was too cool for Amy, and was ready to give her his coat, but she said she was fine, and they both just stood quietly, looking at the sky.
'So why the CIA, Clay? If you don't mind my asking.' She said.
Clay weighted the thought of telling her the truth, and telling her the same lie he gave all women who asked that question, sort of a half truth, or a joke to change the subject. Tonight, under the stars, only the truth would do. 'Both my parents worked for the agency. I was just following in the family business.'
'Ah...' she said. 'A family of spooks. You didn't have a chance.'
'No.' he replied. 'My parents would have supported me in whatever I choose to do as a career. I just wanted to serve my country the same way they did. It seemed right, and I was good at it. Why the Marines for you?'
'I wanted to serve too.' Came the answer. 'It seems a little cliché doesn't it? But it was important to me. I went to school to learn law enforcement, and was afraid all I would end up doing was paper work. Do you know how much paper work a police officer does? I wanted more than that. And I enjoy the chance to travel and meet people like yourself.' She said, looking back at him. 'I wanted to do something important. Pretty simplistic um?'
'Not at all.' He said. 'Because the answer is pretty much the same for me.' He was finding more and more things to like about this woman as the evening went on. If only things could stay this simple. But the truth was that he worked in Washington, and she worked wherever the Marine Corps sent her. He found he would like to spend more time with her, but life didn't work that way. At least not his life. Still, there was tomorrow night.
'Amy.' He turned to her and took her hand in his. 'Would you like to attend the ballet tomorrow night with me? It is our last night in Moscow, and the meetings should be wrapped up, and I would like to see you again before I leave.'
Amy had very much enjoyed this evening with Clay. He was a perfect gentleman, and had treated her better than any one she had ever gone out with, all in one night. She sensed that he had enjoyed it too, and was as aware as she was that nothing could come between them, considering their different locations, and lives. Still, what would one more night hurt? 'Yes, that sounds wonderful Clay.'
He smiled at the thought of one more evening in her company. What was it about this woman? He had smiled more with her in the last 24 hours than he had for any reason in the past month. And, he had opened up to her, and told her things he had not shared with anyone in years, and certainly not with women he had just met. Maybe it was the fact that he knew he may not see her ever again, and it was safe telling these things to a stranger. Just someone you share a few hours with in a lifetime. If only...no Clay, just enjoy the time you have, he told himself.
'We can meet at the front hall again, early, and have dinner before hand.' He suggested.
'Sounds perfect' she said.
He invited her for another dance, and by that time it was getting late. Clayton still had early meetings to finish in the morning, and Amy was on duty, so they said good night in the front hall until tomorrow evening.
The next evening
Front hallway of US Embassy
Moscow Russia
1800 hours Moscow time
Amy entered the front hall and it was a very different scene from last night. The hall was empty, expect for the staff person at the reception desk; a young American woman, who was at the moment on the phone. Amy saw that Clay was not there yet, and she decided to stand quietly to the side to wait for him. She hoped she was dressed appropriately for the evening. What did one wear to the ballet anyway? While she was thinking, the desk clerk had finished her conversation, and was looking at Amy.
'Are you Major Harris?' the clerk asked.
'Yes, I am' Amy answered.
'I have a message for you, Major' The clerk picked up an envelope, and handed it to Amy when she came to the desk.
In a neat masculine hand, her name was written on the front of the envelope. She opened it up, and found two tickets to the Moscow National Ballet for that evening, and a note.
Amy,
I have been called back to Washington early. I am sorry I cannot join you this evening.
I enjoyed our time together last night and maybe we can become re-aquatinted the next time I am in Moscow.
Please attend the ballet with a friend, with my compliments.
Clayton Webb
Amy folded the note and put it in her coat pocket. She looked at the tickets. Suddenly, she did not feel like attending the ballet tonight. She looked at the clerk. Amy had seen her before. A young beauty, excited about her first overseas posting.
'Joan.' The clerk looked up at Amy. 'When is your shift over?' she asked.
Joan consulted the small clock on the desk. 'In half an hour. Why?'
'Any plans for the evening?' Amy asked.
'No.' was the answer.
'Well, now you do. Find someone to join you, and attend the ballet, with my compliments.' Amy said as she placed the tickets on the desk.
The clerk's eyes lit up, and a large smile crossed her face. 'Thank you, Major. I used to dance, and would love to see the Moscow National. I have heard it is wonderful, and some of the hardest tickets to get in town. How did you get tickets?'
'I have connections. Enjoy.' Amy said as she left the building.
As Amy crossed the quad, toward her small living quarters, she thought about the charming Mr. Webb. Would she see him ever again? Did it really matter? It was something she had no control over, and she would just accept whatever came. Somehow, that seemed to fit Mr. Webb. Just accept whatever came.
End of Chapter 1.