The lobby of the Union City Hotel was bustling with people checking in and checking out, ready to return to work after the Christmas holiday. The hotel concierge, Jacob Haas, was at his station, directing bellboys to various rooms and trying to keep up with the line of people who represented the mid-morning rush. In the midst of the line, Lucas and Elizabeth were enjoying a time of companionable conversation while they waited their turn.

"They've redecorated," Lucas noticed, looking around the room.

"I believe you're right. Weren't these walls green when we were here on our honeymoon?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, sort of a sage. Or perhaps jade?" Lucas replied.

"What color would you call this?"

Lucas squinted. "Maybe, peach?"

"Coral, sir," Haas said, interrupting as Lucas and Elizabeth had just reached the front desk.

Lucas smiled. "Ah, coral! There we have it! It's a very cheerful change, Jacob."

"Thank you, sir, and welcome Mr. Bouchard, Mrs. Bouchard. It's so good to see you again."

"Thank you, Jacob. It's good to be back," Elizabeth responded.

"Would our suite happen to be ready?" Lucas asked.

"It is, sir," Haas replied, turning toward the peg board to retrieve their key and to pick up a hotel floorplan. "I have reserved our best suite for you. It's the one with a balcony overlooking the city square …."

"I'm sorry, this won't work," a SIS agent said, stepping forward and snatching the map from Haas's hand. An astonished Haas took a step back.

Lucas furrowed his brow. "Anderson, what is the meaning of this?"

"Security risk," Anderson replied. He then turned to Haas. "They will have an interior room, no windows. One way in, one way out – and two rooms on either side for our team."

"Isn't that a safety risk as well?" Elizabeth asked, "because of fire?"

The agent rolled his eyes. "I believe the risk of sniper fire is far greater. So, unless you want an assassin to succeed, I would ask that you let me play security guard and you….do whatever it is you do."

Haas looked toward Bouchard, whose expression was stern and whose cheeks were turning flushed. "Sir?"

Elizabeth looked over at him and recognized the anger in her husband's eyes, so she leaned up and whispered something in his ear, then stepped away.

Lucas closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "Do as he says. Safety comes first."

"Yes sir, Mr. Bouchard," Haas replied. "I will get you the best interior suite I can find."

Lucas and Elizabeth were handed their key, and the bellman took their luggage away on a rolling cart while Anderson directed members of his security team to their positions. Elizabeth glanced at her husband and squeezed his hand. "It's alright, darling. He was just trying to protect us."

Lucas kept his eyes on Anderson while they walked to the elevator. "I don't care what he was trying to do. I will not have our security detail speak to you in that manner. We'll deal with him the moment we get to our room."

"So, did you like your room last night?" Fiona asked as she and Mike walked down Main Street in Union City, taking in the sights.

"Oh, yes. It's very nice." Hickam replied. "And you?"

"Yes. Nice," Fiona replied with a soft smile, internally wondering why he wasn't being more demonstrative. The pair walked a few feet further, and she decided to take the initiative, reaching over and looping her arm through his.

Hickam stiffened a little at first but then relaxed. This was progress – or so she hoped. "Did I mention how much I enjoyed the play?"

"Yes, you did," Mike replied. "I'm glad. I enjoyed it too. Tonight's is supposed to be exciting as well."

Fiona nodded and walked a few feet further with him, then spotted a chestnut stand on the corner. "OH! Let's go get some of those," she said, taking him by the hand and dragging him toward the stand.

"Alright!" Mike replied.

The two arrived at the stand, and Fiona immediately ordered two bags of warm roasted chestnuts for herself and her companion while Mike stood and watched. Taking the bags in hand, Fiona and the vendor stared at Mike, who seemed oblivious as to what to do.

"That will be seventy-five cents," the man finally said.

Mike stood there for a moment longer until it finally dawned on him. "Oh! I'm sorry!" he said with a chuckle. "You want me to pay!"

"Yes," the man replied. "That would be the idea."

Mike grinned nervously and pulled out a dollar bill, handing it to the man. "Keep the change," he added, chuckling again and now offering his arm to Fiona to hold onto as they walked away.

They walked several steps away from the vendor and then Fiona released his arm and reached into the bag, popping one chestnut in her mouth and then picking out another for him. "Open up," she said.

"What?"

"Open your mouth. Try one of these."

Mike stopped and looked at her with widened eyes. "Oh, I can't."

"You can't?" she asked, perplexed.

"Allergy," he replied. "But you enjoy."

Fiona's eyes narrowed. "If you were allergic, then why did you buy two bags?"

"Because you asked for them," Mike replied. "I don't mind. You can save some for later."

Fiona tentatively shook her head yes, smiling a stilted smile, and the two slowly began walking again.

Back in Hope Valley, Emily had experienced a busy morning, first helping Molly get Bill situated in his house and then stopping by the Coulters to check on Rosemary. From all indications, Rosemary was now in her sixth month of pregnancy and, since she had been put on bed rest, had experienced no further complications with the baby. Given Rosie's vivacious and extroverted personality, it was understandable that being bedridden for so long was a difficult task; however, Coulter tried to make the best of it, spending hours knitting or reading and planning for their infant's soon arrival.

"Four more weeks," Emily told her. "If you and that wee little one can hold on just four more weeks, the chances of survival are very high."

"I've been staying right here, just like you told me," Rosemary replied, rubbing her tummy as Lee stood by her bedside, listening to the nurse's assessment.

"I know you have. Before Carson left, he asked that I give you these iron tablets. He said your hands and feet were cold?"

Rosemary took the tablets, "It's only because it's Winter, and I'm not moving around."

"I try to keep it warm," Lee added.

"I'm sure. But, the doctor has a good sense of what is going on with people even when they otherwise feel fine. So, if you could just follow the instructions on the label, we'll make sure that everything is taken care of just fine," Grant said.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Rosie said.

Elizabeth finished unpacking the few items that she had in her suitcase for their overnight in Union City. Her smart navy suit was just the kind one might expect of a politician's wife. It was sure to make a good presentation in front of their constituents at Lucas's speech and at a meet-the-candidate party immediately following. Lucas had insisted that she return to the hotel after his speech, partially for safety reasons but also because he knew that with such a busy schedule, she was bound to be tired – but she wanted to stay by his side. And so, he yielded to her request.

While she waited for her husband to hang up the telephone in the other room, Elizabeth walked over to the mirror and stood, looking at her frame in full and rubbing her burgeoning tummy. She had always taken great care to see to it that she remained trim and healthy, and to see her expectant body seemed foreign to her, but she smiled as she considered the reason. The baby. Their baby that they had created out of love. She wondered all of the usual things. Were they having a boy or a girl? Would their baby look like her or him? More important, would she or he be healthy? So many things to consider, but the one thing that she didn't have to wonder about was whether their child would be loved. She was happy to know that their baby would be provided with the best life both of them could give.

"Well, that's done," Lucas said, sweeping into the room and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He kissed the side of her head.

"What's done?" Elizabeth asked. "I hope things remained civil."

"There was no lack of civility. I just explained to Spence that our family has to sacrifice a lot in order to pursue this goal and that the least thing that the company could do was to provide security that understood the importance of respecting my wife. I may have also threatened to hire private security if he didn't acquiesce to my request."

"Lucas!"

"No, Lucas, about it. He acted unprofessionally and betrayed the trust of those whom he was charged to guard. That is extremely important!"

Elizabeth stepped away. "I understand. And…I appreciate you sticking up for me."

"But?" He asked.

"Oh," Elizabeth paused, then shook her head. "It's nothing."

Lucas tilted his head. "Nothing that is on your mind is nothing. You are concerned about something. What is it?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Well….I don't mean to sound overly suspicious, but…do you truly trust Sir Allistair? I mean, really trust him?"

Lucas smiled softly, placing his hands on her arms. "With my life."

"I see." Elizabeth looked down with an expression that said to him she was less than convinced, so Lucas slid his hand down her arms and took her by the hand. "Come. Sit," he said, leading her to a small sitting sofa at the edge of the suit. He took a seat next to her.

"When I first joined the company, Spence was in more of an administrative role, taking care of new recruits and making sure that we learned everything we needed to in order to stay out of trouble. He took me under his wing and taught me various aspects of the field, and we really hit it off. He was my mentor, and I looked up to him.

Toward the end of the first year that I served with the company, we were on a case where they'd been surveilling the Hessian Grand Duke, Ernst Ludwig, who, of course, was a great friend of the Kaiser."

Elizabeth shrugged, not knowing the name, so Lucas explained. "He was later one of his generals. Very high up.

Anyway, a company agent of German descent named Adal Deitmeyer was serving as an assistant to the Grand Duke, but the central office wasn't satisfied with the intelligence we were gaining from him. So, they decided to embed another agent. They had suspected Ernst Ludwig was receiving secret military communiques from someone within the Vice-Admiral's office, and they thought perhaps a fresh set of eyes might be warranted."

"And they chose you to go in?" Elizabeth asked.

"Indeed. The Grand Duke was a great patron of the arts and is an artist himself. In fact, his artists' colony at Darmstadt contains some of the most fascinating examples of modern architecture in Europe. So, we leveraged that fact in creating my cover. I went into Hesse under the guise of being a French aristocrat interested in investing in some Hessian art. Central didn't warn Deitmeyer that I was coming because they wanted my honest evaluation of his professional abilities. The thought was that perhaps he needed more training."

"What happened?"

"A most unexpected thing. The Grand Duke turned out to be quite a congenial person, mellowed by personal tragedy and most hospitable. You would have liked him. I did. And there was no evidence that he was trafficking in military intelligence at all. However, I did discover who was."

"Who?"

"Deitmeyer! And not for the right side!"

"Oh, Lucas! No!"

"Yes! I had just returned from a tour of the Artist's colony and was going to my room when I spotted Deitmeyer lifting a vase out of a small wooden crate. I recognized it immediately as Wedgwood, which I thought was kind of odd given the Grand Duke's emphasis on German pottery. Purely out of curiosity, as well as a desire to learn more about Adal, I approached him and asked to see the vase. I knew something was amiss when he was hesitant to show me and then told me it was an anniversary present for the Grand Duke's wife – which I knew was a lie. They had mentioned at dinner the previous night how they had been married in February, and this was now July.

Nevertheless, I managed to get him over his resistance and took hold of the vase. Almost immediately, I knew it was a fake."

"Really? How could you tell?"

"Well, for one, it was too light, and secondly, the Wedgwood and Bentley marking on the bottom is not found on Jasperware. Which, of course, this was."

Lucas heard a snickering sound and glanced at his wife, who was hiding her mouth behind her hand.

"Does Mrs. Bouchard find something I've said amusing?"

Elizabeth lowered her hand. "You never cease to surprise me."

"How's that?"

"When did you become such an expert on pottery?"

"Oh, that," Lucas sighed. "Mother was once an avid collector."

"And you memorized facts about her collection?"

Lucas shrugged. "Well, I had to do something while she was ignoring me."

"Ohhhh…." Elizabeth said, reaching out and taking his hand while pooching out her lower lip. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he said, smiling softly, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing it. "Besides, it was put to good use. It helped me to discover what Deitmeyer was doing. I returned the vase to him and immediately called Spence. Next thing I knew, Spence and a group of six top SIS agents raided the estate and pulled Deitmeyer and me out of there. They were posing as Prussian Secret Police and confiscated Deitmeyer's belongings. The communiques were amongst his things, as well as in the fake vase. In addition to that, there was enough cyanide to kill a herd of elephants. They speculated that had I stayed, I probably wouldn't have made it out of there alive."

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief, wondering but not giving voice to concerns about how many times her husband had cheated death. "Well, I, for one, am so happy that you were moved to a place of safety. But, wasn't it just Sir Allistair's job to see that you were protected?"

"That's the point. Missions such as this are very dangerous, and a man of Allistair Spencer's rank would simply not risk direct involvement. But Spence did. He came in person and at great personal risk. Had the Grand Duke figured out what was happening, not only would the overall mission be jeopardized, but we all would have likely been lined up in front of a firing squad – and I do not exaggerate.

Central wasn't too happy with the risk he took, but he simply informed them that it was the right thing to do and that if faced with the same circumstances, he would have done it again. So see, you needn't fear Sir Allistair Spencer doing anything to harm us. He is one of the most trustworthy men I know."

At the Yorkton auditorium, Allistair Spencer and his newly assigned security agents were doing one last sweep of the facility before everything would be locked down in preparation for Bouchard's speech later that evening. All seemed to be in order, and yet, something didn't feel right. Perhaps it was the interference of William Thatcher in plans that were already tenuous at best, or maybe it was the looming threat of Al Capone, who had ratcheted up the stakes far more than Spencer had ever considered when he agreed to go along with the plan. Regardless, he was feeling squeezed from every angle – facing choices between company demands, personal loyalty, his own integrity, and real and present danger. In short, he was worried.

"Everything's clear, sir," a young agent said, breaking his train of thought.

"What?"

"All clear. Should we start ushering unnecessary personnel out?"

Allistair nodded. "Yes- and see to it that nobody accesses the building between now and when it's time for the speech."

"We already have guards stationed at both entrances."

"What about inside the parameter?"

"That too. Lucas Bouchard will be one of the most well-protected people in Canada, his wife too."

"Very good. Then, I say, let's vacate the building and get ready for tonight."

"Yes, sir."

In Hope Valley, Emily had just completed her morning rounds and had stopped by Abigail's to get Nathan some coffee and a very watery gruel. She had steeled herself for complaints but was determined that he was going to recuperate by the book. As she precariously balanced his breakfast in her arms and fumbled with the Infirmary's front door, she rehearsed a speech in her mind about how everything they were doing was simply to expedite his healing. She knew they were doing the right thing.

Stepping inside, she set a thermos of coffee down on Molly's desk and was turning to shut the door when suddenly, she heard the sound of clanking bottles coming from behind the exam room curtain. After then hearing a creaking cabinet door open, she slowly made her way across the floor to investigate. Reaching the curtain, she moved it a little to the side and peeked through the slit.

Nathan nearly dropped a bottle of iodine when he heard his full name, middle included, shouted at him from the other side of the curtain. Before he could consider what to say, he turned to see his wife charging toward him, slamming his bowl of gruel down on the exam room table.

Nathan jumped, bumping into a tray of medical instruments and sending them clattering onto the floor. "Emily….what are you doing here?" he asked, slowly attempting to bend in order to pick them up.

"What in the world are you doing downstairs?" Emily asked, moving over next to him and picking them up herself. "Go, you go sit over there!"

Nathan stood back up and moved over toward the examination table. "I was just looking for some mercurochrome."

Emily picked up the last of the instruments and stood. "Mercurochrome! Have you gone and opened your incision? Let me see!" she asked, moving close to him and immediately starting to unbutton his pajama top.

Nathan swallowed as the fabric slid off his shoulders, and her warm hands caressed his skin, her left hand resting on his chest. He closed his eyes and licked his lips. "Look. You don't need to worry. I didn't hurt my incision."

"I'll be the judge of that," she said, lifting the bandage and looking underneath.

"Would you please stop that?"

"Oh, stop complaining….I need to check your sutures."

"That's not what I was talking about," he said, taking her hand in his and lowering it to her side.

"Then what….?" She looked up at him with wide eyes and saw a desire in his eyes she hadn't seen before. "Oh, gosh!"

Nathan leaned down and kissed her, and she became like liquid in his arms. Suddenly, she forgot all about what she was angry at him for.

"I dropped a saucer," he said by way of reminder.

"Wh-a saucer?" she asked, still in a daze.

"Yeah. I went to stand up, and it fell off the nightstand. It shattered and kinda sliced my ankle open.."

"Oh, you poor dear!" she said, stepping backward and then pushing him gently toward the examination table. "Please, let me take a look." She raised his leg in her hand as he continued to explain.

"I got most of the bleeding stopped but figured it might need some medicine on it, so I came downstairs."

"Mmhmm," she said, holding his leg in her arm and examining the cut, which was not much worse than a scratch and had stopped bleeding. "Well, it appears to be okay," she said, walking to a drawer and pulling out the bottle of mercurochrome.

"So that's where you store it!"

"Mmhmm," she replied, reaching for gauze bandages and hydrogen peroxide to cleanse the wound. "Does it hurt?"

"Not really," he said, watching her work. "I wasn't really sure it needed anything since it had stopped bleeding by the time I got back inside."

Emily nodded, then she stopped. "Back…what do you mean, back inside?"

Nathan looked down. "From outside. I um…I just walked down to the office for some papers…."

"You what?!"

"I walked down to the office in order to check for a file on someone that I remembered after Bill and I talked about the case with Andrew Hargraves."

"You walked down the street to check on a file?"

"I was only gone a few minutes."

"Nathan!"

"Emily, I feel okay. I was very careful not to strain anything."

"I don't believe this!"

"I'm fine. I don't know what you're so upset about."

"Nathan!"

"Emily! Sweetheart, everything's okay. I feel fine. I got the file I was looking for, stopped by the Queen to use their facilities and order lunch, and then…."

Emily started laughing, but it wasn't the kind of laugh that indicated she found humor in what he was doing. "Of all of the irresponsible….this was over the restroom, wasn't it?!"

Nathan furrowed his brow. "No! I told you it was over the file! He had mentioned a guy named Johnson. I remember a rancher named Johnson from around that area. Ev Johnson. We interviewed his son Larry on a different matter a few years back."

"And?"

"Well, I was thinking they could be related."

"And why were you doing that?"

"Why was I doing what?"

Emily slammed the roll of gauze down on the bed. "Thinking! Nathan, do you know what it means to be off duty?!"

"Of course I do. It means I'm not working."

"Exactly! You are OFF DUTY until I release you, and it's going to be quite a while before you're going to be released to go back to duty – so until then, I am ordering you, I'm….I….."

Nathan looked at her innocently with a slight grin on his face.

"What?!"

"You know you have this cute little vein that pops out on the side of your eye when you're mad that makes it look like your smiling at me rather than being angry?"

Emily narrowed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut, then reached up and grabbed Nathan by the ear. "Come!"

"Ow!" he said, having no other choice but to follow. "Let go; that hurts!"

"You're going to think pain!" Emily stopped and turned around. "You are going upstairs, and you're getting straight in that bed, and you're not going to worry about what's going on at the office, nor are you going to worry about what's going on at the Queen. You're going to think only about being a good patient and listening to your wife and getting well – do you hear me?!"

Nathan rubbed his earlobe. "Not after you pinched my ear off."

"Do you hear….wait….I didn't really hurt you, did I?"

Nathan looked into her eyes. "A little. It's okay."

"No, it's not. Let me see," she said, stepping toward him and putting her hand on the side of his face. Nathan closed the distance between them and once again pulled her to him – this time holding her body close to his – and he kissed her as she'd never been kissed. He kissed her lips, her face, and her neck, before returning to her mouth until he left them breathless. Finally, after he had kissed her silent, he took a step back and smiled, backing his way toward the stairs. "I'll, um….I'll just be heading back upstairs…uh, back to the bed," he said, pointing lazily toward the room.

Emily smiled and nodded in a daze. "Yes, we want to get you well…." She immediately squeezed her eyes shut. "Er….healed…um – you know what I mean."

Nathan gave her a wolf-like stare. "Yes. I think I do."

Emily blushed. "Go! Go now! Go upstairs and lay back down. I'll be there in a few minutes with your breakfast," she smiled.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, making his way back up the stairs and disappearing around the corner.

Emily leaned against the wall and swallowed, then shook her head. This was going to be a difficult several weeks.

Lucas stood inside the lobby of the hotel's restaurant discussing the evening's security arrangements with Harry St. James while waiting for his wife to exit the ladies' lounge. He appreciated the steps that St. James and Spencer were taking to ensure his family's safety, though if truth be told, being constantly watched and being on watch was adding to their general stress. Elizabeth, in particular, felt embarrassed at having to have even the ladies' restroom checked out before she could enter it, and, given the fact that she now had to go there more frequently than normal, it made eating out in a public place something she did not enjoy. For Lucas's part, if it weren't for her safety, he probably would have chanced it alone. He was, after all, a trained agent – albeit a rusty one. Nevertheless, he would do anything and endure any inconvenience for her sake, even if it meant having agents surrounding them at every hour of every day.

"When you a finished speaking, we need you to continue standing behind the podium until Mrs. Bouchard comes on stage, and then security will escort you offstage."

"Alright," Lucas replied, his eyes instinctively surveying the area for anything out of order.

"We have three guards at the front door and three at the back, and there are five additional guards distributed in plain clothes throughout the crowd."

"All well-armed?" he asked.

"Of course. In fact, we have received word that some of Johnny Torrio's men have gotten ahold of a new kind of gun. It's being mass-produced by Colt, though Torrio apparently got ahold of some of the demos. It's called a Thompson Submachine Gun."

"Submachine gun?"

"Yes. Fires handgun instead of rifle cartridges but at an automatic rate."

Lucas frowned. "Sounds deadly."

"It is. But don't worry. Nobody's going to be sneaking one of those things inside the auditorium. Too big."

"I see."

"We will have you exit via the back entrance and step into a vehicle from the Prime Minister's fleet. You're being treated as a VIP."

"I'm most grateful. It sounds as if you have everything in place. Now, if there were to be any sort of disturbance, you will make sure Mrs. Bouchard is safe first? Don't worry about me. She's what's most important."

"Nobody is going to harm either one of you. I stake my reputation and life on it."

"Sorry I took so long," Elizabeth stated, walking up to her husband and wrapping her arm around his. "I dropped my glove over by the elevator, and this gentleman retrieved it for me."

Lucas looked at her and frowned. "Which gentleman?"

She turned and looked in the direction of the elevators. "Funny. I don't see him anymore. Don't worry. My guard was ten feet away."

"It takes less than ten feet to create an incident," Lucas said seriously. "Elizabeth, I'm going to speak to you as I would speak to Jack. From now on, if any strangers approach you, allow your guard to deal with the situation. I don't want you getting close to anyone that could hurt you."

"Yes, husband," Elizabeth said, squeezing his arm and being thankful he was there looking out for her.

Lucas smiled. "Shall we, wife?" he asked, leading her through the doors to their car, which was awaiting them.

"So that was Bouchard's wife?" Al Capone asked, slipping off his jacket into the hands of his waiting assistant. "Pretty. But, not too well guarded."

"No. You walked right up to her. Easy target."

Capone turned around and slapped the man with his glove. "Target? What are you talking about, target? Didn't you see she was pregnant?"

"Well, yeah…"

"We ain't goin' after no woman with child. She remains unharmed. Keep your focus on her husband. Spencer isn't goin' to get the job done like he said he was, so it's in our hands. Bouchard's unbribable, so we have to eliminate him. Understand?"

"Yes, boss. Should I lay out your things for the speech?"

Capone relaxed. "Yeah. Order some room service while you're at it. It's been a busy day already, and I've worked up an appetite. I'll get cleaned up."

Mike and Fiona sat across from one another in a restaurant across from the Union City Playhouse, where they were to take in another show on the final night of their out-of-town excursion. Things had been unusually quiet between them that afternoon as they walked through town, stopping at the occasional shop before returning to their separate rooms for the next several hours. Fiona sensed something was on his mind, but in true Mike fashion, when asked, he simply smiled and went along with anything she asked. Trying to shrug it off as just his shyness, she continued on until, at dinner, she noticed that he was just picking at his food. Then, she realized that they may have made a terrible mistake by stepping away from just being friends and going on a date.

"Listen, um…Mike –"

"Yes, Fiona?" he said, almost too quickly – his eyes expressing an eagerness that she couldn't quite interpret.

She smiled. "Um. We don't have to do this, you know. Not if you don't want to."

He looked at her, perplexed.

"We don't have to do…." she looked around the restaurant. "…to do this. If it's not working, I guess I'm saying we can call it a day if you like."

Mike frowned. "Did I do something to offend you?"

"No! No! Not at all. It's what you're not doing. I mean, since we've been here, I don't really think you're having fun. I mean, look, you've hardly touched anything," she said, glancing toward his plate.

Mike's eyes grew wide, and he cleared his throat. "Haven't touched…I, um…I wasn't aware that you wanted…."

"What I want is for you to just let your hair down and enjoy yourself, and if that means that we drop convention and ignore societal expectation, then that's what you should do. I mean, I want you to be happy."

Mike's heart began to race, and his mind with it. It was a big enough step for him to join her as her date on this weekend excursion, but was she saying she wanted more? He felt the blood drain from his face.

"Mike? Mike? Are you okay?" Fiona said, reaching across the table and taking his hand. She was so beautiful, but he knew he wasn't ready for more.

"I, I'm fine. I….maybe we could skip the play tonight if you don't mind."

Fiona nodded. "I don't mind. Do you want to do something else? Or just go back to the hotel?

"Something else." He said, quickly. "Something out with the public."

"Okay. You choose then."

"Alright," he said with a nervous smile.

Paying the check, he helped Fiona on with her coat and tried to calm down as he held the door for her and then exited onto the street.

"Lead the way," she smiled, hoping that allowing him to choose would salvage what was turning out to be a very awkward weekend.

The two walked for a while and then stopped when they reached the Yorkton Auditorium, where a large crowd had formed.

"Well, what do you know," Mike said. "Look at that!"

Fiona looked at the marquis, which advertised that this evening's event would feature Parliamentary candidate Lucas Bouchard. She smiled. "Was that this weekend?"

Mike looked at her and smiled. Campaign events could go on for a long time. This would be a perfect event to fill up the rest of their evening and hopefully get them onto other topics, away from the romance she was evidently expecting from him. "Yes. Would you like to go?"

"Sure!" she replied. "I'll be voting for him anyway because it's Lucas, but it should be fun to see him in a different setting."

"I agree!" he said, walking up to the ticket counter. "Two tickets to tonight's event."

"I'm sorry, sir. But we're all sold out," the man behind the counter stated.

"Oh?" Mike asked, furrowing his brow.

"Yes, sir," the ticket salesman said. "These events are usually half-full, but given all the news surrounding the candidate and the fact someone tried to kill him, people have been grabbing up tickets like they're hotcakes."

"Oh, I see," Mike replied, disappointed. "Thank you, anyway."

Fiona shrugged. "Well, we tried. Maybe we can find something else to do?" she said, hugging his arm.

Mike looked anxiously in her direction, but then his face brightened when he saw the Bouchards pull up.

"Lucas, Elizabeth!" he said, moving toward them. Immediately, Hickam and Miller were surrounded by three armed agents, pushing them away from the couple. Mike called out again.

"Gentlemen! Please!" Lucas said, moving toward the scene. "These are my friends. Please. Take your hands off them."

The agents backed away, and Lucas helped Mike straighten his lapel as he regained composure.

"What on earth are you two doing out here? Did you come to see me?" Lucas asked.

Mike shook his head. "Actually, Fiona and I were just taking in the town this weekend. We wanted to get in to see you, but it's all sold out."

Lucas looked surprised. "It is? Imagine that." He then took Hickam by the arm. "Well, I happen to know some folks, and I think we can find a seat for you anyway – if you don't mind sitting backstage.

"Really?" Fiona said.

"Yes, you can sit with Elizabeth," Lucas said.

"That sounds great," a relieved Mike replied.

The four friends made their way to the building's rear entrance, and Hickam stood still while security frisked him to make sure that he wasn't carrying any weapons. While they waited, Lucas felt a tug at his arm and looked down. Elizabeth was looking toward a line of people waiting to get in.

"What is it?" Lucas asked.

"That man," she said. "That's the man that helped me with my gloves."

Lucas looked toward the crowd and saw not one but three men dressed in expensive clothes and wearing expensive hats. There was something notorious about the one in the middle. It made his hair stand on end, a feeling he'd learned not to ignore. "Is that a fact?"

"This way, Mr. Bouchard," Lucas's security detail said, moving him toward the door.

"Um, Peterson…."

"Yes, sir?"

"Is the general public being searched as they enter the building as well?"

"Yes, sir. Every one."

He nodded. "Good."

The event began with some remarks from the Party leader, and a much-beloved provincial song leader led them in verses of The Maple Leaf Forever, O Canada, and finally, God Save the King. When it was finally time for Lucas to speak, the crowd had been well-prepped for the message of prosperity and national pride that he would bring. And, when he got up to speak, despite his reluctance to be in the race and expectation that he would lose, Lucas spoke from the heart.

"I am not a native Albertan; rather, I was born in Montreal and have spent the majority of my adult life exploring the world far and wide. I've been to Shanghai, China, and have walked along the great wall – to Egypt and have seen the Great Pyramids – I swam in the Mediterranean and have eaten Galinha à Zambeziana in Mozambique. I've gone exploring in the Amazon and have celebrated with friends in the streets of New Orleans. But it wasn't until I reached this province, and experienced the hospitality and goodness of these people, that I found home."

Elizabeth beamed with pride as her husband shared a vision with the crowd that he hadn't even shared with her. He had a keen understanding of the problems which the province faced and exhibited tremendous insight concerning what it would take to keep them moving forward. He spoke of Alberta's vast natural resources and about not just relying upon their copious reserves of coal but of tapping into their waterways and using hydroelectric energy to propel the province forward, and he embraced the farmers, recognizing that without them, there would be no future.

"The great states of Illinois, Wisconsin, Michigan, and Minnesota rolled together cannot match the bounty which God has placed within our borders – we have the finest ranches, farms, and yields as can be seen in this hemisphere, and we can be even greater. With wise investment in our infrastructure, we will provide our people with the tools they need for irrigation and harvesting so that soon, our fair Alberta will stand heads above its neighbors, and as we prosper, we will be able to leave a heritage to our children that we can be proud of – a heritage that Lyndon Bertram seems intent to destroy."

Lucas continued to speak, and as he did, his security detail kept their eyes trained on the audience; but Lucas had his eyes on someone else - the man that Elizabeth had seen at the hotel. He'd spotted Capone the minute he took the podium, and while, thus far, he'd done nothing out of the ordinary to cause him to suspect him – but there was just something about him that he didn't like. He needed to find out who he was.

And then it happened. The man received an unexpected visitor. Lucas's heart sank. Spence?

Lucas watched as Sir Allistair knelt down beside the man and began to talk to him. He wondered how they could possibly know each other. The man wasn't part of security and didn't look the type that Sir Allistair would commune with at all.

Lucas managed to keep his place in his handwritten notes and continued speaking even as his mind was reeling. Was Elizabeth right? It appeared they were arguing.

Finally, just as Bouchard was wrapping up his speech, Spencer stood, and the man and his entourage stood with him. Lucas watched as the four men walked to the exit, and then he saw them stop. The more dominant man appeared to say something to Spencer as his attendees took one intimidating step forward, and Sir Allistair stood and listened. Then, Allistair shook his head and bowed it, and the man and his cohorts left the facility.

The crowd stood to their feet in applause at Lucas's conclusion, and Spencer looked toward the stage. The two men's eyes met and held there for several long moments; then Spencer sent him an uncomfortable smile before nodding and walking away.

Lucas stepped forward to follow him but was stopped when Elizabeth joined him on the stage. And so, he slipped back into candidate mode as Hickam and Fiona joined him as well. He leaned forward and shook a few hands, smiling a manufactured smile as he scoured the crowd for his friend. As they were ushered toward the edge of the stage, he saw Spencer leaving through the front door, so he again turned his focus inward.

"This way, sir," one of the guards said, moving them toward the exit.

"Wait!" Elizabeth said. "I can't go yet."

The guard shrugged.

Elizabeth leaned up and whispered in Lucas's ear that she needed to use the facilities, and Lucas nodded understandingly.

"I'll go with you," Fiona said, and the two women were escorted to the restroom.

An anxious Lucas checked his watch and then walked over toward the window to see if Spence might be outside.

"We'll need you to step away from there, sir," the man said.

Lucas paused. "Yes. Of course."

He returned to Mike's side. Lucas bounced on his heels and loosened his tie as Mike began congratulating him on his speech.

"I never really saw you as a politician, but you surprised me. You really know your stuff!"

Lucas nodded absentmindedly. "Thank….thank you."

"You know your stuff about a lot of things," Mike said, looking around and then grabbing Lucas by the arm and dragging him to the side. "Which is why I kinda need your help."

Bouchard looked toward Hickam with a bewildered expression. "Help?"

"Yes. Fiona and I are in Union City on a date – a real date."

"Oh," Lucas replied.

"Only, I think she's maybe expecting more from me than I feel comfortable giving. I was nervous, to begin with, over taking her out – I mean, not that I don't think she's pretty and smart, and funny, and great to be around, great in general really – but to go beyond just being friends, it's a big step, you know."

"I could see that," Bouchard responded.

"It may surprise you to know that I don't really have any experience with women – really at all."

"You don't say."

"And well, I have been worried about what it might be like to….you know….you know."

Lucas squinted. "I know?"

"You know….kiss her."

"Oh!" he responded, looking desperately toward the restroom door, hoping for his wife's return.

Meanwhile, behind closed doors, Elizabeth was being asked for her own advice.

"I'm afraid I messed up."

"Oh?" Elizabeth said from inside the stall. "What's wrong?"

"It's Mike and this trip. The truth is, we're here on a date."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked, surprised.

"No hanky-panky or anything," Fiona continued.

"I didn't assume that there was. Lucas took me to Union city on our first date – only we didn't call it a date. He was a perfect gentleman."

"Really?"

"Yes," Elizabeth responded, then she stopped. "Mike's not being forward or anything, is he?"

"Oh, no!"

"Because if he is, I can have Lucas talk to him."

"No, no, nothing like that. Just the opposite, really. I think he has regrets and that it's messing up our friendship. I mean, I like Mike. I think he's smart and funny and is a good man. And, well, I know in a lot of ways we are opposites, but we get along so well. It got me thinking about what it might be like to, you know, go out together. But I'm afraid I may have pushed him into it and hurt our friendship instead."

Elizabeth finished up and then exited the stall. "Well, if you want my advice…."

"I do."

"Honesty is always the best policy."

"Just tell her the truth," Lucas said. "Be honest with her. Tell her that you like her a lot and that you are very interested but that you need to take things slow. And then tell her what that means to you – that certain activities you would like to eventually get to, but other things you want to wait on."

"You don't think she will be offended or think I'm weird or anything?"

"Not at all. Fiona cares for you…."

"Mike cares for you, and he's not going to want to do anything to hurt your relationship. Just let him know that you're fine with however he wants it to be and that you'll be there for him in whatever capacity that is."

"You think he'll be okay with that?"

"I know he will. Now, if you don't mind, my husband is probably wearing his watchcase out wondering where I am, so…."

"Oh, sure. Thank you, Elizabeth. I really appreciate this."

"Thanks, Lucas. I really appreciate it."

Lucas nodded, then smiled as he spotted Elizabeth coming his way.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," she replied. "Thank you for waiting."

He squeezed her hand.

The guards escorted them through the back door, and they slipped into the seat of a spacious limousine, pulling out of the driveway under the watchful eye of Capone and his men.

"What now?" one of the men asked him.

Capone pulled out a cigar and lit it. "Bouchard's got a debate with Bertram next week in Calgary. We end his campaign there."

"How are you gonna do that with all of this protection around?"

"Easy. We've got an inside guy."

"You trust him to play along?"

"He'd better. In truth, he has no other choice. It's either Bouchard or him, and if I had to make a bet, I'd say it ain't gonna be him."

Three hours later later, the Bouchards finally returned to their secure hotel suite after their dinner party. They were both exhausted, but Elizabeth was also excited about how the evening had gone and had spent much of the time on the way back telling him so. Finally, when they were behind closed doors, and she had slipped into her evening gown, she began taking down her hair and asked him what he thought.

"About the speech? I think it went well. The voters seemed to be pleased."

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically. "Why do I get the impression that you aren't pleased?"

Lucas smiled softly. "You know me too well," he said, taking a seat and removing his tie altogether. Elizabeth stood and came behind him, rubbing his shoulders and giving him a gentle neck massage as they talked. "I'm not disappointed in the speech," he continued. "I'm concerned about something I saw. That man, the one you spoke of…."

"The one from the lobby?"

"Yes. I saw him during the speech and saw him talking with Spence."

"Sir Allistair? So he's security?" she asked, surprised.

Lucas shook his head. "I don't think so." He turned, wrapping his arms around her back as she draped her arms over his neck. "Darling, I have a bad feeling – a feeling about Spence. Perhaps I've been blinded by past experience and he isn't the man I once knew him to be?"

"Oh, Lucas….what are you going to do?"

"Unfortunately, I don't feel like I can reach out to the company. Spencer is very well connected, and aside from your father, I'm not sure who we can trust. I need to speak with Nathan."

"But, he's still recovering from surgery."

"I know he is, and it's not anything strenuous. I just need him to speak with some of his police friends, the ones from the United States."

"About?"

"Well, it dawned on me that I've never seen the face of the man that wants to kill me – Al Capone. I need them to get me a picture."

Elizabeth considered the request. "You're afraid the man in the lobby is him?"

Lucas nodded and stroked her cheek, then a worried Elizabeth embraced her husband, laying her head against his chest.