Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
An impressive office in an embassy in Washington DC.
Getting a meeting with the ambassador had been ridiculously easy. Ames – who acted as Ilsa's personal assistant – couldn't help but admire how a simple name like "Pucci" could open doors far more easily than any skeleton key.
Admire and envy.
This name thing… It was what had initially drawn her to Guerrero.
She wanted that for herself one day – a name that, by its mere mentioning, provoked a reaction. She just wasn't sure yet if the reaction she wanted should be more in the Ilsa or more in the Guerrero direction.
Both names provoked fearful respect – in Ilsa's case because the people wanted money from her, in Guerrero's case because they wanted him to leave them unharmed. Which was better? Guerrero's kind of power was more far-reaching, with people who owed him a favor or were eager to please him in all strata of society, especially in the nitty-gritty parts. Ilsa's, on the other hand, brought pictures in glossy magazines, evenings at the opera and lots of opportunities to wear fancy clothes.
Ames was undecided. She had asked Chance about this one evening, while marathoning One Tree Hill. Chance never said much when they watched TV together; he liked to make fun of her favorite scenes, but that wasn't really talking. It was difficult, getting a serious answer out of him. That evening however, he had replied: "Ever considered going the Ames way?"
Whoa, that sounded deep. She wasn't yet sure what to make out of it, but she was pretty sure she should give it some thought.
The ambassador's droning voice that had sent her mind down the pondering road slightly changed its tone, only a minor adjustment, but it drew Ames' attention. "We weren't aware that the Marshall Pucci Foundation was planning a developmental project for the island", he was just telling Ilsa.
What was that? A hint of uneasiness? What did it matter if "they" had been aware of the Foundation's interest in the monks? Had Ilsa picked it up, too?
Judging from her posture, legs elegantly stretched and ankles crossed, reaching out into the ambassador's personal space in a casual gesture but still, ever so slightly, building up pressure on him, she had. Her smile, seemingly friendly but steely in its determination, served the same purpose, just like the gesture with which she took the tea cup. It was in the fingers…
Ames would have never picked up on all these elements, hadn't Guerrero shown her a videotape lately and pointed them all out to her. "She keeps on doing that for another ten minutes and her dialog partner will have the feeling there's a tiger in the room with him", he had explained, with an interesting touch of admiration in his voice.
"We were planning an intense cooperation with the monks on the island, aiming to support and further the invaluable work they've done", Ilsa told the ambassador. "We're deeply shocked and concerned about the monks' recent fate."
"A perfectly understandable reaction. But, as you very well know, Mrs. Pucci, my country has granted that area its independency decades ago. We strongly advised the monks to leave the monastery back then, but they chose to remain on that island. I'm afraid but our hands are tied…"
"Which is a pity, Mr. Ambassador, since the Marshall Pucci Foundation wasn't only planning to fund the monks' projects but also the renovation of one of your country's most famous national monuments… but since your hands are tied…"
The ambassador shifted in his seat, Ilsa smiled. Unrelenting. "Could your assistant leave us for a moment?", he finally said.
This was exactly why Ames wanted A NAME. She'd been ushered out of rooms all her life, not trustworthy/worthy enough to get to know the really good stuff. Well, thankfully Ilsa was carrying a microphone. Walking out of the room, Ames quickly activated her earpiece, just in time to hear the ambassador spill the beans: "Our contacts to the secret service of our former area of protection are still well-maintained. We think a terrorist group named Ardeshir took the monks. They're hiding out in the mountains. We're gearing up for a secret operation to bombard their camp right now, so don't worry Mrs. Pucci, the monks will soon be home safe and sound."
When Ilsa replied, her voice had climbed up: "You're planning to bombard the terrorists' camp? Where they're hiding the monks?"
"Our bombs are very precise, Mrs. Pucci", the ambassador answered. "Trust us."
Of course Ames couldn't see him, but to her ears he sounded like a grinning crocodile from a cartoon.
At this very moment, Ames' cell phone signaled, Winston's number. She quickly recounted what she'd just heard. "This doesn't make any sense", she finished. "They're planning to throw bombs on the place where the monks are? To help them? If that's their idea of helping their citizens in need, I'm glad I'm American."
"It makes a lot more sense with our piece of the puzzle", Winston said.