CHAPTER 9 -- TAG

Amanda trudged down the wide hallway toward the bullpen, following a disheveled and disgruntled Lee Stetson. Lee had used the telephone in the warehouse office to call the Agency, and within minutes, the building was swarming with federal agents. The two Russian couriers, as well as the two Americans, were taken into custody, but Mr. Melrose opted to have the motorcyclists interviewed on site, declaring it would be too loud and conspicuous to herd the entire gang into IFF. Amanda watched in amusement as the young men postured and embellished; they had probably never had so much fun.

Lee most definitely wasn't having fun. In an eerie replay of the afternoon's events, he had practically dragged her out of the warehouse and back to the Agency, hurrying her past the other agents and shushing her every time she spoke. His expression was sour, and his communication during the short drive to the Agency was limited to grunts and growls.

As Lee passed through the glass doors and stalked toward his desk, Amanda grabbed his arm and dug in her heels, refusing to budge another inch until he talked to her. "Would you mind telling me what you're so angry about?"

"I didn't say I was angry," he said, shaking off her hand as he pivoted to face her.

"You didn't say you were hurt, either." She gestured at the bandages she had insisted be applied to his wrists by the Agency paramedics. "It's perfectly obvious you're angry."

Lee snorted, running a dirty hand through his hair. "I'd think it would also be perfectly obvious that it's not safe go around telling every thug you meet that I'm a federal agent."

She bristled at his criticism of actions that had not only saved his life but had also helped protect the security of the entire country. "They weren't thugs," she said, her voice rising.

"You didn't know that when you told them."

"Oh, please," she said, folding her arms across her chest and rolling her eyes. "Would you rather I'd let those Russian agents kill you and leave the country with the missile plans?"

"I didn't say that," he grumbled, stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets and avoiding her eyes.

Amanda tapped one foot on the carpeted floor. "You also didn't say thank you. Would it hurt you to say thank you?"

Lee's shoulders hunched and his jaw worked as though the effort of forming words was was choking him. Before he managed to speak, the glass doors swung open again, and a beaming Billy Melrose joined them.

"Good news, you two," Billy said, clapping Lee heartily on the shoulder. "The Army has verified that all of their missing documents are present and accounted for. As soon as we have your statements, we can wrap this case."

"That's great, Billy," said Lee, shifting his weight and taking Amanda's arm in a firm hold. "I was, uh, just going to take Amanda down to debriefing."

"Fine, fine," said Mr. Melrose, his good humor erupting in a contagious chuckle. "I'm looking forward to hearing Mrs. King's statement. From what little I overheard at the warehouse, it should be very interesting."

Amanda glanced around the nearly deserted bullpen, hoping the debriefing wouldn't take too long. It was already well past eight o'clock. "Sir," she said, smiling uncertainly at the Field Section supervisor, "will the debriefing take very long? It's getting late and my car is still at the Genessee Arms."

"It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes, Amanda," he replied soothingly, "and the Genessee Arms is only a couple of blocks from Lee's apartment; I'm sure he'd be happy to take you to your car as soon as you're finished."

"Thank you, sir." Amanda bit her lip as she looked from Lee's mutinous face to her crumpled, grease-stained coat. Her Agency debriefing was going to be the easy one. Being interrogated by her mother would be much trickier. Her excuse for dashing out of the house had been flimsy, at best, and she would be returning home grubby and empty-handed.

"Was there anything else?" Mr. Melrose said, his eyes filled with concern.

"There is one thing, sir, if it's not too much trouble. I really need a typewriter ribbon."

The End