Chapter 5
Joseph shut his door and settled back in the limousine's front seat as red flashing lights from the pair of escort vehicles reflected off his white shirt and tie.
"Let's go," he said, the sensitive microphone on his lapel easily picking up his voice and carrying it to his crew.
To his left, Anton put the car into gear then followed the police motorcade from the hotel's entrance out onto the streets of Geneva. Behind him, King Rupert and Her Majesty were discussing the reception they were to attend that night and the dinner the following evening. In his ear, he heard Shade's acknowledgment.
As soon as the funding had been arranged and he had discussed what gear would suit the royal family's situation best with several of his friends at Interpol, Joseph had flown to London and ordered new security equipment for the palace and his staff. By far, the most convenient devices were the lapel microphones and ear receivers his agents now wore. This allowed them to communicate immediately and discretely and to not rely on unpredictable cell phone service. While they had used them for the past week in Genovia, this evening was the first time they had used the wireless sets away from the palace or in a large social setting. He did not, however, anticipate any difficulties.
Cameras had been installed in the critical areas of the palace, such as entrances, and more were to be placed after the wiring was updated in other parts of the building. He had expected the heads of the various palace departments to grumble about the mess the improvements were causing, but to his surprise, there had been nary a remark.
Miss Parker had apparently passed the word that not only was he was accepted but that he was a hero. She proved to be a powerful ally, and had he known just how powerful, he sometimes joked to himself that he would have 'leaped at a knife', as she put it, just to get in her good graces before now. The staff bent over backwards to cooperate and assist, and he was greeted with a smile wherever he went. It was quite a turn around and while he was glad for it, he wasn't used to the shower of respect he now received and was halfway expecting the icy treatment to return.
What worried him most, though, was the fact that whenever he met Miss Parker in the halls, he could swear that a sparkle came to her eyes as she smiled at him. At the thought, Joseph felt a damp chill creep down his spine.
"Five minutes, sir," Anton said, just loud enough for Joseph to hear.
He nodded and turned to look over his shoulder. "Your Majesty, we will be arriving at the front entrance in five minutes."
The king thanked him for the information then finished the last of his scotch. The queen adjusted t her gloves then looked out her window, as if preparing herself for the evening to come, her face in profile to Joseph.
She was beautiful.
He gazed at her for a moment longer than he should have, unable to resist. Joseph pulled his attention away.
"Turning and slowing," Anton murmured, speaking to Bates who was driving the car following behind. With him were Shades and Hans. Still cautious after the fiasco in Ravenstein, Joseph wanted himself and two other agents in the room with the royal couple. As Joseph undid his seatbelt, the limo slid smoothly to a stop directly in front of the steps of the National Art Gallery.
Pausing, Joseph waited for Shade's 'all clear', before unlocking the car's doors and exiting. Had Shades seen any sign of trouble, Joseph would have immediately ordered Anton to drive on.
Onlookers pressed against the ropes flanking the entranceway and flashes went off as soon as he opened the limo's back door. Rupert stepped out, smiling for the photographers, and Joseph offered his hand to Queen Clarisse.
"Thank you, Joseph," she said softly, giving him a smile. He let go of her hand, and moved in front of the king, his gaze sweeping the crowd. Clarisse went to her husband's side and took his arm as Rupert exchanged pleasantries with their host's secretary, who'd greeted them.
Shades and Hans took their positions just behind the couple. After another quick glance around the area, Joseph looked back to see if they were ready. When the secretary gestured for them to enter, Joseph led the way.
Inside, it was even more crowded, reminding him of the Old City Hall in Ravenstein, and the attack. "Stay close," he ordered, scanning the crowd. At least the attendees here were all invited ones and those who were not heads of state had passed through a security inspection, he reminded himself. Still, he felt uneasy.
The hall was filled with a hundred couples, men in white tie and beautiful, wealthy women swathed in satins, silks, and jewels. But to Joseph, Clarisse outshone them all. In a simple blue silk dress that flared at the waist and fit tight through the bust and shoulders, she was stunning.
King Rupert slipped his arm around her waist, touching her only as a husband should, and leaned down, whispering in her ear. Clarisse smiled warmly, blushing. At the approach of a gentleman in military attire, Rupert gave her a gentle squeeze, then let go, and reached to shake the man's hand. Joseph sighed and looked away, to the people gathering close by to speak with the royal couple.
Although he knew it could not be otherwise, and had since the day he decided to accept the job in Genovia, the thought that he would never have her was a painful one.
He had to deal with it, and soon.
How, he did not know.
An hour and twenty minutes later, Joseph was beginning to relax. His vigilance did not waver, but as soon as Hans returned from his break, he felt confident enough in the situation to ask Bates to take his place, and then stepped through the French doors onto the second floor balcony, into the cold night air, relieved to be out of the stuffy room. The latch clicked behind him and Joseph let out his breath, a mist forming then disappearing as he did.
Wanting his new, young agent to get experience, he'd assigned Hans to the queen, Shades to the king, while he kept a general watch. For the most part, the couple had stayed together, but there were times when they each went their separate ways, chatting with acquaintances and officials. When this happened, he kept a position somewhere between the two, where he could see the crowds moving about them. It was sensible, from a security standpoint, and kept him at a distance from Clarisse. That was also a wise move.
What must he do to control his feelings for the queen? How would he live with them and be around her, day after day? Could he?
Joseph walked to the balcony's edge and leaned his forearms against its railing, gazing out over the museum's garden.
He was in love with a married woman and his feelings would never change. There was nothing for him to do except get on with his life and accept it as it was.
There was a job to perform. While not the excitement of Interpol, it did keep him busy. Too, there were problems within Genovia that he could assist in solving. Already, the changes he'd suggested and the king and Parliament had begun implementing were showing positive results. Privately, he had friends, such as Marc and Maria and their families, to share good times with. His life, simple as it was now, had to be enough.
It would be, he decided. He shifted, resting his full weight on his folded arms, and felt the stone's coldness through the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket.
Below him, modern works were scattered about the paths, highlighted by spotlights. He was no more fond of modern sculpture than he was modern art and his expression changed to something of a frown as he noticed one particularly gaudy piece in the center of the garden. It was a wonder that people, in the name of "art", would pay good money for junk.
"Awful, isn't it?"
His hand automatically going under his coat jacket to where his gun was concealed, he spun around. A woman stepped from the shadow of the building, and slowly walked over to stand beside him. She smiled. Joseph let his hand fall to his side.
"I meant that sculpture, not the reception." An eyebrow rose and she tilted her head to the side. "Although, this evening has been rather a trial."
Joseph rested an arm on the balustrade and studied the woman. She was several inches shorter than he and perhaps a few years younger…or about his age. Her classic features made it difficult for him to tell. She wore makeup, but it was barely noticeable, and when she smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkled. The wrinkles were attractive, though, and made her appear as if she were about to laugh. Then, she did.
"I'm sorry. Here you are, wanting a few moments of peace and quiet and I spoil it," she said, looking at him as intently as he had her.
"How do you know that is why I am here?" he asked. A breeze ruffled the shawl around her shoulders and she pulled it more snugly about her.
"Because," she laughed, "why else would we be out here in the cold?"
Joseph smiled. "You are right, at least on that account," he conceded. "But, you did not spoil anything."
"Genevieve Monts," the woman said, offering her hand. Joseph took it and bowed low, brushing his lips against her gloves.
"Joseph Coraza."
They talked for a few minutes, and Joseph found himself enjoying her company. She was a widow of several years and her husband had attended college with the reception's host. She lived in London, but traveled frequently, visiting friends and her children.
Because her husband had contributed to philanthropic causes far and wide, she was obliged to make appearances at functions throughout the continent. Since her husband's death, however, the social whirl had lost it's charms and, other except for seeing old friends, the events were becoming tedious.
Joseph liked her sense of humor and honesty and soon wished he did not have to leave and return to his duties. His twenty minutes, however, were up.
"It has been a pleasure, but I must get back," he said.
Lady Monts sighed. "I suppose I should, too, before I become frostbit." She gazed into the ballroom, where couples mingled and laughed, then suddenly turned back to face him.
"As a young girl, I was taught by my grandmother that women never make the first move. But, I think that is foolish and since I did not listen to her advice then, I see no reason to begin now. Delightful company does not come along every day...or night, and opportunities should not be wasted."
Amused, Joseph said nothing, but waited.
"Mr. Coraza, after the reception, would you care to join me for a drink?"
He smiled apologetically. "Thank you, but I will be busy until late. I'm one of the staff- in security." That, Joseph knew, would put an end to her interest. Ladies of the aristocracy did not proposition the hired help.
She laughed again. "I know exactly who you are, Colonel Coraza. You are the new Head of Security for King Rupert and Queen Clarisse. You see, my brother in law tried to engage you for his company…World Command Security. He was very disappointed when you turned him down."
Surprised, Joseph did not have time to reply before she continued.
"I've become quite a night owl, I'm afraid. Fewer distractions, I suppose. It gives me a chance to read or to write without being interrupted."
This time, it was Lady Monts who waited.
Joseph considered. Turning his head slightly, he could see into the ballroom and the tall figure of Hans caught his eye. Four feet away from the young man were the king and queen, momentarily alone. Joseph saw King Rupert straighten his sash and speak to his wife, and she smiled as she reached up to adjust his tie. Rupert leaned closer, speaking directly into her ear. This time, she laughed aloud and he laughed with her, sharing in their private joke. Rupert took Clarisse's hand and tucked it under his arm, then guided her out of Joseph's sight, his agents following behind them.
She is another man's wife, and he would never have her.
Joseph made his decision.
"I will be free about one," he said, looking back to Genevieve.
"Perfect! I have a few late calls to make to the States before midnight, but will be done by then." She pulled her wrap tighter against the chill. "I'm at the Riviere Jardin. Is that not where the king and queen are staying?"
Joseph nodded. It was no secret; a black limousine with a Genovian flag on each corner of the hood was hard to miss.
"Call from the lobby when you are free and I will meet you in the lounge." She offered her hand. "By the way, my friends call me Ginny."
"And I am Joseph." He kissed her gloved fingers and let them go. "Until then."
She nodded then slowly walked through the doors, disappearing into the crowd. After a moment, he followed, returning to his duties and to his life.
Joseph came to stand a couple of meters from the king and queen and nodded his thanks and dismissal to Bates. Before Bates left to return to where Anton waited with the cars, his men grinned broadly at each other. For the next hour and a half, Shades and Hans exchanged amused glances and smiles, puzzling their boss…until Joseph realized that the entire time he was out on the balcony, his mike had been on.