Connie stepped out of the car and up to the embassy door with Jason. Her red-orange dress fluttered with the gentle breeze that assuaged the heat a little. It still wasn't as hot as it would get, but the haze in the distance over the Washington Monument signaled that it would get stifling, perhaps like some of the hottest days in Paraguay.
Her heart pounded in anticipation. She was still a little nervous, but not as much as she'd been last night, since this wasn't so formal. And of course Jason was with her.
She was still in shock from the news that Jerry had a wife in Vietnam. She wasn't quite sure what to think of it…She had a sister-in-law out there somewhere that she'd never met…..maybe even a niece or nephew. She only hoped that they could find her. Excitement hit her at the thought of meeting Ai, Jerry's wife. She hoped she was okay after all these years…how terrible to lose her husband in the war after being married for such a short time.
If Jason took this mission, it might interfere with finding her. But Jason had said that they could do both at once, because a lot could be done remotely. Connie looked forward to helping him as much as she could with both things.
Jason opened the door. Inside, a red carpet lay along the entryway, and huge bouquets of roses greeted them, the sweet, light scent suffusing the air. A man in a dark suit bowed as they entered. "If you would follow me, sir, madam."
Jason took Connie's arm and they followed the man down the hallway, the golden molding along the edges carved into intricate scenes of war and peace.
When the man opened the door onto a room with a high, painted ceiling, decorated with mirrors and roses, another man welcomed them with a bow. He had a red sash across his chest, dark, graying hair, and a gracious smile.
"Thank you, ambassador," said Jason, returning the bow, while Connie curtseyed, almost tripping over her shoes. If they'd been the shoes she'd worn last night, she'd have fallen on her face. As much as she'd imagined such things as a child, she really wasn't used to high society life!
The nervousness that leaped into her throat dissipated as Jason gave her hand a gentle squeeze and they made their way over to the table.
"Welcome!" said the prince at its head as he stood, delight flashing across his face when he saw them. "I'm glad you came!" He tugged down his red, gold-sashed shirt and said in a more formal voice, "Please, if you'd take a seat."
"Thank you, your Highness," said Jason, taking another bow. Connie curtseyed low for him and he smiled, his blue eyes reminding her of Jason. If Jason had had a son….
A twinge of pain hit her heart at this—Jeremiah—and she shut out all thoughts of the baby she'd lost.
The assistant pulled out their chairs and they sat down, Sierra across from them, her chin resting in her hand, a cryptic, unreadable look on her face.
The Muldavian ambassador went to the opposite head of the table. "Welcome, everyone, and thank you for coming. We're happy to share this afternoon with you and get to know you better." He sat down.
Servants appeared as if by magic and served light crisp rolls. Connie wasn't sure how to eat hers.
"Oh, these are very good," said Jason. "You just eat it with your fingers!"
He picked his up and bit into it. She took an experimental bite; it tasted a little salty but good, spinach and generous cheese inside of it.
Sierra gave them a smile. "I'm glad you could make it," she said. "Have you spoken about my proposition?"
"We haven't really had time," said Jason. "I almost forgot about it till this morning, then we talked a little."
"What did you conclude?"
"We still need to pray about it."
"Of course. But you should know that time is short. Even as we speak, the boy could be disappearing so no one can find him. I shouldn't even be here, but I was counting on you to take the other side of the mission."
"Why do you need me specifically?"
"Because I can trust you. Because you're a good agent. Because you are compassionate and you seek justice. And you know Muldavia."
"You've tracked one of the leads to Muldavia?"
"One arm of the human trafficking network reaches to Rakima, the capital. I'm not sure if the base is in the US or Muldavia; it's hard to tell with these things. I'll give you all my data on it before you begin."
"And where does the other lead go?"
Sierra's dark eyes shadowed. "To Cambodia. My old home."
"That makes sense you'd go there."
"I know Muldavia too, but not as well as the streets of Phnom Penh."
Jason looked at Connie, then back at Sierra. "I have something I'd like to ask of you, too. My brother died in Vietnam."
"I'm sorry." Her brow furrowed.
"I just found out he had a wife there, and I want to contact her. Would you—"
"Yes, I can look into that for you. Do you have anything to go on, like her name, her family?"
"Her name's Ai. I don't know her family name… Her last name would be Whittaker."
"Don't be so sure. Times were messy after Saigon fell. She might have taken another name to keep from reprisals from the Vietcong because of marrying an American soldier. Or she might have remarried."
"I didn't think of that."
"I've been in Vietnam on several occasions. I've got contacts there—though some might be…less than happy to see me."
"Don't get into trouble on my account."
"It's no trouble." She laced her fingers and rested her chin on her hands, looking at Jason. Then her eyes strayed to Connie.
"So what do you think about all of this?" said Sierra.
"I'll do what Jason wants, if it's God's will."
"Would you go with him or stay?"
"I'll go with him, as long as it's not dangerous."
"You're not prepared to go into danger with him, then."
"I'd go anywhere with him. But this mission won't be dangerous."
Sierra tipped her head, a coil of blue-streaked black hair working loose and falling beside her cheek. "Who told you that?"
"Jason said that as a freelance agent, he'd get to choose how far his missions go."
"Technically, that's true. But if you're not prepared to go as far as it takes, it's hardly worth doing at all."
"There's a lot of things we can do without putting ourselves into direct danger," said Jason. "I have contacts—"
"Yes, you can be effective, in a way. It's just not how I operate. I'm willing to put myself in just as much danger as the children I'm trying to rescue. I think I owe them that."
"There's no reason to take unnecessary risks."
"Of course not. I tend to be too much of a risk-taker—but you are, too. I've seen it in you. You have that fire inside you, but you've stifled it—" She waved a hand. "I'm sorry." Her voice softened. "I know what abuse can do to a person. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to settle down for good, and I can't ask you to join my crusade." She sighed, looked at her long purple nails. "I guess I am letting this get personal. Just don't feel pressured into this. If it's not the right thing for you, I'd understand. I want justice—I think you do too, but perhaps this isn't your fight. Perhaps…God will tell you that."
"Maybe." Jason leaned forward. "It's not that I don't want to help. I just need to find out if I should—or if I'm needed somewhere else."
"I understand. I'll need a definite answer by—yesterday. But the end of today will do, I suppose."
Jason nodded.
A man came in and sat down in the empty seat beside Sierra; she turned to speak with him. The servants brought in some salad with olives and cheese and nuts. It was delicious— just the right amount of tangy. She devoured it; she hadn't enjoyed a salad so much for quite a while.
"Jason, Connie," said Sierra, "this is Kris Markov. He's a Deputy Director of Muldavia's internal security."
The man inclined his head slightly. "It's an honor to meet you." He had short dark hair, graying at the temples, and piercing dark eyes that seemed to appraise everything around him. "I hear that you want to know about the darker side of our country."
Jason nodded. "About one aspect in particular."
"Ah yes. We tend to sweep that under the rug, even more than we do our other flaws. We do so want to join the world stage, be an important country." He smiled wryly.
"Don't start that again!" said the woman beside Connie, with dark red hair and elaborate green earrings that matched her dress. "You're too cynical about our country."
"I'm a realist. I know that we're nothing more than a small dot on the map, and it's likely to stay that way."
"Britain's not much more than a dot on the map, and look what it accomplished!"
"Britain is an island. We're a tiny landlocked middle-European country surrounded by much larger and more powerful neighbors. The most we can hope for is to maintain our sovereignty and stay viable economically."
"I believe that we can become great. That we are great."
"Believe that all you want. It won't change reality. I deal with the dark side daily—I know what's out there."
"You only see the bad things. They block your view of our potential."
"I am working to keep the crime from overrunning our country. Even you in the Ministry of Education must see that."
"Come now," said a man beside Kris with brown hair and gray eyes. "I can't believe it's as bad as all that. Our economy is booming, our relations with other countries are strengthening, we're becoming more of an international player—"
Kris chuckled. "If by a 'player' you mean our wine's becoming known outside our own country, then yes, I agree." He leaned forward. "But if you don't see that crime eating away what progress we've made, you're delusional."
The man took a sip of his wine. "You are the one in charge of the security service. You're the one that's supposed to be dealing with it."
"I am dealing with it. We've made headway. But every time we find a solution, our progress is beaten back by blind idealists, incompetent bureaucrats, not to mention our fluid borders. We've become a safe haven for criminals because they know they can find impunity in our country after fleeing from theirs. We don't have the resources to take down the big crime networks, and so they flourish. Time and again I've asked for budget increases, but our economy isn't to the point where it can spare any more for crime-fighting. And so the lawbreakers eat away at our progress, and the cycle continues. Something drastic will have to happen to change this destructive system."
"I want to change things," said the prince in a strong, earnest voice. "I want to help our people, and so does my father. We need ideas and we need people to help us. Anything you can do will be gratefully accepted." He looked around the table, catching Connie's eyes.
Connie felt a sudden desire to help—he looked so concerned for the safety of his country. But what can I do? she wondered.
The Muldavian ambassador leaned over and whispered something to the prince. He looked startled, and then he nodded. He held his head high, his crown glittering in the sun from the window, and suddenly he looked remote and powerful, like the carving of an ancient king.
"Our country has its flaws," said the ambassador. "But I believe our strengths outweigh them. And I believe we do have the potential for greatness. We're small, but we have lots to offer. We want to join our brothers and sisters, especially in America, and work together to create a better world."
"To Muldavia!" said the American ambassador opposite him. He raised his glass.
"To Muldavia!" Everyone echoed, except Connie, who was caught off guard. She raised her glass and clinked it against Sierra's; Sierra's smile widened, distorted by the water.
"I suppose I should consider myself rebuked," said Kris, his voice lowered. "But we must not forget the vulnerable among us, even as we celebrate who we are as a country."
"That's what we're here for," said Sierra.
"You were asking for a favor, if I remember."
"We're interested in helping a boy who was caught by human traffickers, and we traced them to Muldavia. But if we can rescue others, even expose the ring, well…you will benefit too."
"And you can do all that?"
"Perhaps. Our priority is the boy, though. We will pass on any information we discover, but first you have to give us what you have on them."
"Well, there are several human trafficking networks that flow through Muldavia, especially Rakima. Despite what I said, the most vicious and sophisticated one seems to be homegrown, though we've never gotten close to the inner circle. Most operations that prey on our citizens originate in other countries, but not this one. I have suspicions that the illegal drugs and weapons sales organizations actually come from the same source. We're not even sure what its name is; we just call it Yavesh—which means black hole in our language. I'd guess about a third of the violent crime in Rakima at least originates from Yavesh. I'd say not even bother with the others, but you probably want to be thorough."
"It will actually be Jason who will be going to Muldavia, at least at first."
"Oh, really?" said Kris, his dark eyes studying him. "You are quite the hero in our country. Some of what they say sounds more like legend than fact, almost as if you singlehandedly toppled communism. You and the other agent—what was her name?"
"Tasha," said Jason. "She actually did more than me. I wouldn't have gotten far without her."
"Perhaps your version is closer to the truth. Even so, your being a legend could open doors for you. Or close them, depending on where you go. It's true that most of the population doesn't know the covert story of the rise of the King, but after the fall of communism, much of the old guard went underground and started criminal enterprises. I wouldn't be surprised if some of them still know of you."
Jason nodded. "I'd have to be careful."
Something twisted in Connie's heart. "You mean we could run into some of your old enemies?"
Jason grasped Connie's hand under the table and she pressed her fingers to his palm. "I won't take any unnecessary risks."
"That's advisable, with the people you'll be dealing with," said Kris. "Still, some risks are necessary if you want to get close to these people. Even with my best agents, we haven't been able to penetrate more than the outer rings of the organization. They're very thorough and professional—and ruthless. You ask the wrong question, they won't hesitate to kill you."
He sighed, looked down for a moment. Then he caught their eyes with a sharp glance. "Last year I tried to plant someone inside the organization. I sent one of my best agents to infiltrate it and advance toward the center. Everything went well; he was asked to join a human trafficking cell. But first he had to complete an initiation. They wanted him to…beat a young girl. He did—he couldn't back down if he wanted to get further in—but he went easy on her. The next thing I knew, we found his body dumped in an alley, almost unrecognizable from torture, his throat cut."
A shiver ran across Connie's skin. She couldn't help but picture what he described, and wished she could erase it from her mind. Sierra expected them to fight an organization like this? Connie couldn't bear the thought of Jason going into such danger. Her dream from a few weeks ago flashed across her mind—Jason broken in body and mind—it'd been so vivid—No! She couldn't willingly let him do it. She doubted he'd want to go running toward that kind of thing especially after what had happened to him before.
"That's the kind of people you'll have to deal with," continued Kris. "You'll have to be careful—but to get inside, a high amount of risk is unavoidable."
"I'm not sure—" said Jason.
Sierra sent him a sharp look.
"—that I will go in myself. I'd like to find out from informants."
"That's all well and good, if you're willing to sacrifice people like players on a board. I have to do that—but it doesn't make it easy. The loss of that agent last year hit me hard. I'm looking for some new approaches, so if you have any suggestions as to strategy, an outsider could give a fresh perspective." He looked at Connie. "Will you be accompanying Jason?"
"I'm going wherever he goes."
"As a non-agent, I suggest you get some training, or you could be a liability. You two are married, correct?"
Connie nodded.
"Being personally involved can help motivate you, but it can also keep you from going as far as you should, just for the concern of the other's safety. If you find this holds you back, perhaps another arrangement would be more advantageous."
Jason exchanged glances with Connie. They hadn't even really discussed this and this man was assuming they were going as a team to Muldavia. What was Sierra thinking, acting like they were doing it? Did it mean they had to do this—or could they back out?
The dinner came in, interrupting them, and Connie ate some kind of wrap and some cheese and fruit salad, but she barely tasted it. She hoped they were not trapped into this. The image of Jason, hurt and broken like the agent, hovered at the edge of her mind and she tried not to look at it directly. Sierra couldn't ask this of them. They didn't have to do this; they had enough to focus on with finding Jason's sister-in-law.
Of course, they could look into this but that didn't mean they had to go all out and endanger their lives for this mission.
After lunch, they spoke with the prince, who welcomed them to come to his country. He shook Jason's hand and then Connie's.
As they headed toward the door, Sierra handed Jason a card. "You can reach me at this number." Before she could slip away though, Jason grabbed her arm.
"I want to speak with you," he said.
She looked surprised but she said, "Of course."
They walked out to the front of the building beside the stairway. The other guests stepped down it, talking, oblivious to them. The air was now so humid each breath felt heavy.
Jason stood in front of Sierra. Tension made his body taut; it took Connie a moment to realize he was angry.
"What was that about in there?" he said. "After you told us we could give you an answer later, you started acting like it was a done deal."
"I didn't want him to think you weren't serious about this, or he wouldn't have spoken to us."
"It seemed a bit like manipulation to me. Listen, this is my decision. Mine and Connie's. We won't be forced into anything. Least of all something that could result in our deaths."
Sierra crossed her arms, looking unconcerned. "It's true, it won't be easy. But neither is it for the children trapped in it."
"I want to help, but I will do it in my own way. I'll look up contacts, I'll investigate. I won't go into inordinate danger, and I won't leave Connie on her own. I'm not willing to sacrifice what we have together, not after…almost losing it."
Sierra studied him for a moment. "Very well. You may do it your own way. But I will do it mine, and I won't hold back. After I check out the lead in Cambodia, I'll come over to Muldavia and take what you've found out, and burrow into the organization as far as I can. It may be my last mission, but..." She sighed, looked away, pain on her face. "Perhaps this is what I should've done all along." She looked back at Jason. "I can't ask you to come to a decision that's taken me years to come to terms with myself. Perhaps this is really about me, how I'm struggling with taking this on because I haven't let my personal feelings get in the way of business for so long. I have to do this, but at the same time I'll be facing my past directly, and I'm afraid…I won't be able to deal with it. I don't know why I'm telling you this, except that I trust you. I…really would be grateful for any help you could provide. I'll do the rest. I only hope it's not too late for Ben."
"Ben?"
"That's the boy that was kidnapped. I'll tell you more about him when I see you later today. Now I need to get going. Excuse me." She stepped around Jason, not looking at either of them, and strode down the sidewalk, the click of her heels fading amid the noise of the traffic.
Jason leaned against the brick stairway. "Well…that was interesting."
"Yeah. I don't really know what to think…."
"I'm not rushing into danger like I used to. Those days are over. I want to be by your side, and I don't want even the possibility that you could get hurt."
"Me either. I mean, I don't want you to get hurt. What he said, about that agent…." She laid her hand on his arm, his skin warm from the sun. "I don't want to lose you. Especially not…that way. We've had enough violence for a lifetime."
Jason nodded. "We'll be able to accomplish a lot this way too."
"So are we doing this?"
"What do you think?"
"I want to help."
"It is the least we can do."
"We should pray to be sure."
"You're right." Jason grasped Connie's hand and they bowed their heads and prayed fervently about the mission. Then Jason looked at her searchingly. She paused for a moment, thinking.
The boy—Ben—could be getting so lost they'd never find him. They didn't have the luxury of waiting. But they at least had till the end of the day to call Sierra. They shouldn't make a rash decision, although this did come to them out of the blue. Perhaps it did mean God wanted them to do this. Why not help him, if it didn't mean going into danger?
"I think we should do it," she said. "But we might as well wait to the end of the day to be sure."
He smiled. Oh, how she loved his smile. It dispelled all dark thoughts and made her want to embrace him. She held him close, her cheek against his, happy that he'd never have to be much further than this. After a quick kiss, they walked hand in hand down the sidewalk to their car, and drove off to explore DC despite the sweltering heat.