Follow Focus
13
Courier
“Ruby” by jsblinn, ID5115010 licensed from Shutterstock.com.
MY FINAL TRAINING SESSION on Thursday morning was good. It seemed that people were, in general, more enthusiastic about the training after the dinner the night before, but at the same time we were all a little bleary-eyed.
“Hey, Nate. Did you not get coffee this morning?”
“Huh? Me?” I asked Ruby when she showed up. “I think I did.”
“You look a little worse for wear.”
“For some reason, I had a very late night last night. I might need a nap.”
“Get it before tonight. We have twenty people for this morning’s session. Shall we check the equipment?”
I got myself coordinated and then Ruby followed me to each work station as we checked off the equipment, materials, and who was assigned to it. After I got moving and greeted the new class, I was in much better shape. I thought I’d be finished at noon and would be able to return to the hotel. Not so.
“Nate, we have lunch scheduled with the deputy assistant secretary for visas and then a meeting with the assistant secretary for diplomatic security to clear up some of the misunderstandings that occurred during your trip to India,” Mr. Martin said. I was finishing up making sure all the equipment was loaded for shipment.
“I didn’t realize we had more on our schedule today, sir.”
“Opportunity strikes. You met Mrs. Clark at dinner last evening. John Phillips will be joining us for the meeting this afternoon. If you’re finished, we can head for lunch now.”
“Of course.”
“See you later, Nate,” Ruby said as we left the training room.
“This is a cafeteria meeting, not a formal banquet,” the deputy assistant secretary for visa services said. “Let’s make it Marilyn, Don, and Nate.” We sat with our trays in an alcove off the main cafeteria after going through the line.
“Nate, we prepared in every way we could imagine for the rollout of this equipment and smoothing the processes that take so long. But in all that, we did not anticipate the breadth of impact it would have throughout the US Government.”
“Non-immigrant visas are little more than a sheet of paper stapled into a visitor’s passport,” Marilyn said. “Most don’t even include a photo since the photo is part of the passport. An immigrant visa, on the other hand, is very much like a passport. We offer immigrants the same rights and privileges as citizens when it comes to travel. They are under US protection and their immigrant visa functions as their passport,” Marilyn said.
“I think I understand that. It’s a little confusing that most passports are the same color except the black diplomatic passport I carry,” I said.
“Not so. In fact, you may travel to military installations to train on the equipment because US military deployed overseas are issued a brown/maroon passport. The equipment we have acquired will be just as useful there,” Martin said.
“And we expect a change in passport colors to go into effect in celebration of the Bicentennial,” Marilyn added. “Much needed. Normal domestic passports will be issued in blue and the light green passport will be issued as a visa for refugees and immigrants.”
“What we’re getting at is that you are on the cutting edge of a change in the standards for passports that goes beyond having the photo and information instantly applied to the passport page instead of being a separate photo laminated onto the page. It’s very much a matter of national security.”
I hadn’t had the importance pointed out to me in quite that way before. I wondered what I was going to find out when the diplomatic security guy showed up. I didn’t need to wait for long.
“Nate, this is John Phillips, Assistant Secretary for Diplomatic Security,” Martin said when the tall redhaired man arrived in our little alcove. I noticed that most of the remainder of the cafeteria had emptied out as people returned to work after lunch.
“That’s a mouthful of a title, but in reality, there are only two of us who report to the Foreign Service Bureau in this office. You won’t find people from the diplomatic security in any of your training sessions,” John laughed.
“I’m pleased to meet you, nonetheless,” I said as we shook hands.
“My job includes the Diplomatic Courier Service. Don and Marilyn called me in because there was an incident in India in which you were given a confidential document and asked to deliver it to the ambassador. That shouldn’t have happened, but it’s understandable. You are a member of the Bureau of Consular Affairs, and thereby are issued a black passport which grants you diplomatic immunity and exempts you from search throughout most of the world. I’ve reviewed your application and testing data and we’ve run a security check on both you and your assistant, Ronda May. I’m happy to say you qualify for security clearance to carry secret documents.”
“I… Is that a part of my job?” I asked, turning to Martin.
“It’s something we didn’t anticipate, but actually, your job description overlaps significantly with the Courier Service,” he said.
“That’s why the crash course on the differences between visas and passports,” Marilyn said. “When you take the photo blanks and templates from one place to another, you are transporting secure documents. If those fell into the hands of a foreign government, they might issue unlimited valid US passports or visas.”
“Oh, crap! I guess I knew that in a way, but it hadn’t really registered what it could mean,” I said.
“Precisely,” John said. “Now the confusion that occurred in India arose from you being authorized to transport those secure documents, therefore, the Consul General assumed you could carry a document from him to the ambassador. Which you did very well.”
“Thank you. It was just a real surprise,” I said. “I felt my first responsibility was to report the activity to my immediate boss.”
“Well done,” Martin said.
“What we want to do is make it an explicit part of your job,” John said. “I don’t foresee that you will be called upon to do a dedicated courier run. Those sometimes last months as a courier might go back and forth between countries multiple times. But your routine work will provide an extra channel, especially for communications between an embassy and consulate in areas where telephone and other services are not secure.”
“If it’s okay with Mr. Martin, I don’t see a problem with it.”
“Good. Don?”
“I think it is natural. So much so, that while you were here training others in the use of the equipment, which is your primary function in the State Department, we ran Ronda through the formal courier training program. In most instances, she will be the one carrying a diplomatic pouch as you will have your hands full of the secure materials for the consulate.”
“So, she’s already been trained?”
“Finishing up today,” John said. “My associate is standing by to take you through the brief course when we leave the cafeteria.”
Well, shit. I guessed I wasn’t going to be doing any afternoon photo sessions in my hotel room.
It was interesting to find out some of the history of the courier service, which started back in 1918. Most of the session, however, was regarding the rules of being a courier. Aside from the material I was carrying for my training, if I was handed a diplomatic pouch, I was to deliver it as soon as practical to the recipient. I wasn’t to ask or attempt to find out what was in the pouch. This was a level of security so that if I was questioned, I would have no information other than who the pouch was from and to. Most of the time, if I was called upon at all, it would be to deliver a pouch from the US to the courier service in whatever country I was going to. Seldom would either Ronda or I be expected to hand a pouch directly to an ambassador.
I was interested in knowing some of the pouches we took would be headed somewhere besides the place we took them. What I mean is that I might take a pouch to Mexico City and hand it off to the courier service at the embassy there. The pouch itself might be headed to Bolivia, but an actual courier would deliver it there. My deliveries and Ronda’s deliveries would mostly be intermediary steps that saved dispatching a courier on a dedicated mission or diverting one to take a pouch.
It was six o’clock when I finally left the State Department and went back to the hotel.
My room was set up for a lovely romantic dinner with Adrienne. She was naked and kneeling on the floor when I walked in. I pulled her to her feet and kissed her, while trying my best to get out of my jacket and tie. It didn’t take long before we were stretched out on the bed. She molded her curves to my body and welcomed me into her pussy. When we were sated, she began feeding me.
“What a lovely way to spend our last evening in Washington, DC,” I said.
“Yes. I wish it could last.”
“What?”
“Oh, you have an appointment, master. Surely you didn’t forget that you are taking pictures tonight.”
“I assumed it was too late. It’s nearly eight.”
“I should get you dressed. You won’t need much. Just slacks and a shirt to get through the hotel.”
“Through the hotel?”
“Room 414. Your camera and lights are already set up and your client is waiting.”
“Adrienne, what am I going to do with you?”
“Let me be your loving pet, master. I will be waiting when you are finished, if you decide to come back tonight.”
She got me dressed and I stole through the hotel to rap lightly on the door of 414. Ruby opened the door and smiled at me. She had obviously gone to some work to prepare the setting and props. In fact, I was willing to bet Adrienne had a hand in setting it all up. My camera was on a tripod and two lights were focused on the bed.
“I’m so glad you’re willing to take my photo,” Ruby said. “Please don’t be too hard on Adrienne. I’m afraid I manipulated her.”
“Adrienne is very difficult to manipulate, but I’m glad you think so. Last night was all the punishment I care to give out,” I said.
“She helped me set things up this afternoon. Does this work well enough for an Attic Allure photo?”
“Yes, I think it will do nicely. Hmm. We started with portraits last evening. Let’s warm up with a couple of quick casual shots before we move into the glamour world.”
“Would a glass of wine help you warm up?” she asked, handing me a glass of dark red wine. I toasted her and checked the camera. She held the pose and I took the first of many photos we would get to that evening.
It was not difficult as we moved along to get Ruby out of her dress. She wore black lacy lingerie. As soon as the dress fell from her shoulders, I could see the shading of her nipple beneath her bra. I let my hands linger on her shoulders and pulled one bra strap off to the side. Ruby smiled like she’d just won a lottery.
“Hold it right there,” I whispered as I brushed my lips against hers.
I got the picture and then adjusted the lights. I took her wine glass and set it aside, then looked at her other props, laid out on the table.
“This is lovely,” I said, picking up a perfume atomizer.
“Adrienne helped me pick out a few props in Georgetown this afternoon. There’s a cute little antique shop just on the edge of campus. To hear the proprietor talk, you would think this atomizer was once owned by Martha Washington herself,” Ruby said.
“It would be a shame not to use it in a photo, then. Let’s have you here on the bed, shall we?”
“Have me anywhere you’d like, Nate,” Ruby said. That was worth considering.
I got her positioned on the bed, took a picture, and then unfastened her bra. She let it slip from her arms and didn’t try to cover up at all. Her large nipples came erect at my first light touch and Ruby moaned.
“Oh, yes. You’ll be much happier with this photo than with your ID photo,” I whispered as I kissed her neck. I positioned the atomizer and took the next photo. We set the atomizer aside after half a dozen shots and then I worked her into other positions, eventually getting her sprawled on the bed completely naked. Her black slip was tossed casually across her hips, just concealing all but the edge of her red pubic hair. When I sat beside her to change her position slightly, she put her arms around my neck and pulled me in for an intense kiss as I caressed her breasts.
“Can we move on from photos to lovemaking?” she whispered.
“Oh, Ruby. Did Adrienne not tell you that I don’t have sex with models?”
“Or in the studio. And you don’t date models. But, Nate, I’m not a model. I paid for the sitting to get the perfect photos. This is my bedroom, not a studio. And you could hardly call what we are doing a date.”
She pulled me down next to her and began unbuttoning my shirt as I let my hand stray to her short hairs. I could feel the heat and moisture, so I knew she wasn’t faking it. And she had an ironclad argument. The only question was whether I wanted to dip my cock into this fiery crotch as I pressed myself against her hard nipples and pillowy breasts. That was an ironclad argument as well. I kissed my way down her body as she pulled my shirt off and buried my nose in her pussy.
I had condoms in my pocket I did not remember putting there, so Adrienne must have expected my night would include this and prepared me for it. When I was covered, I sank into Ruby’s hot core and we both moaned with pleasure. We took our time and thoroughly enjoyed the evening’s entertainment.
I still got back to my room in time to cuddle the rest of the night with Adrienne.
“So, I guess we’re couriers now, too,” I said when Ronda picked me up at the airport Friday. “Did we sign up for this?”
“It took me by surprise. You were scarcely off to DC when Mr. Martin called me into his office and told me he wanted me to take the courier training program,” she said. “No, we didn’t sign up for this, but in fairness, when we were given the opportunity to express an interest in government jobs back when we tested, I put that down as an area of interest. I mean, it’s one of the areas where being multi-lingual is a big plus.”
“The way it was described to me, if that was where you were actually assigned as a career, you’d never be home. Some of those guys are out for months at a time,” I said.
“Not so much anymore. That was before airplanes. But you’re right, in general. A courier could spend a month just flying back and forth between two cities.”
“Well, we’ve got a few long treks coming up anyway,” I sighed. “I hope Anna and Patricia are willing to wait until December before we take them somewhere exciting.”
“It will be exciting. I’ve contacted each of the offices and we’re working on the schedule. As opposed to our Mexico trip, which will just be exhausting.”
“Don’t we have Canada first?”
“We’ll fly from here to Ottawa on Tuesday, train in the embassy Wednesday morning, then fly all the flipping way to Vancouver Wednesday afternoon. We’ll train at the consulate there Thursday morning and then board our plane back to Chicago. I think this is a trip we’ll be sleeping on the plane.”
“I think I’m going to get good at that,” I laughed.
“The good news is we’ll have Friday to recuperate before we take off for Mexico City on Monday. Mr. Martin says that all the equipment for Mexico will be shipped with us. We aren’t flying commercial for this one.”
“Military?” I said with some alarm.
“No. Government charter.”
“Why? It seems like a bit of overkill for our training mission.”
“We’re traveling the first leg with a government bigwig who will have a dinner in Mexico City with the Mexican Secretary of Foreign Affairs. You will be asked to take official photographs. Then our National Security Adviser will be continuing to Chile while we head north to the five northern consulates.”
“Wow! You have a lot of details.”
“As it has been explained to me, I’m responsible for keeping you from being blindsided like we were in India. It’s a two-way street. If we are going someplace where you have friends, I need to know in advance so I can get appropriate clearance. The only place that Mr. Martin expects there to be any problem is in Greece, but that’s long enough from now that everything could change by then.”
“Do you have any idea how lost I would be in this job without you?” I asked.
“We are lost without each other, my love. Now let’s get home so you can dance with our little girl.”
And that was how I spent most of my Friday evening. Toni wanted to tell me everything about her week, and had new drawings to show me. There was one drawing of her family that pointed out her three mommies, her daddy, and baby sister in mommy’s tummy. I almost cried when I saw she’d drawn a tombstone labeled ‘father.’
I made love to my wives over the weekend and Ronda and I prepared to leave for Canada on Tuesday. I loved taking Patricia’s pictures for what we considered week nineteen of her pregnancy. Anna had set up a makeshift studio in the boathouse and I processed and printed the pictures I took of Ruby in addition to Patricia’s photos.
“A wanton redhead?” Anna asked. “How did you manage that?”
“I believe Adrienne managed it. I punished her for it.”
“I’ll bet she loved that.”
“I think she let the entire hotel know she loved it,” I laughed.
I was prepared for the barrage of phone calls I had on Monday. My students across the country were setting up their equipment. Most had simple questions. One had an actual issue that required a replacement for a part that was broken in transit. Josie had our schedule for the week with phone numbers to forward questions to. We promised to check in each day before she was finished with work to see if we needed to make calls in the evening.
Then Tuesday afternoon we took off for Ottawa. We were driven past the embassy, but we had no official reason to visit it until Wednesday, so we went to the new Holiday Inn, just a few blocks away. We had a nice dinner in the revolving rooftop restaurant and then held each other through the night in our room.
Training went well in the morning. It was straightforward, but the operator needed to be shown how to quickly pack and unpack the equipment. There wasn’t a huge call for passports at the Canadian embassy because of the open borders between the US and Canada. But all State Department employees at all the consulates were to have ID badges. So, the operator pair we trained would be packing their equipment and taking it to each of the four eastern consulates in Canada, after they got all the employees at the embassy badged. They’d head for Halifax, Montreal, Quebec City, and Toronto.
We were finished by noon and got to the airport in time to have lunch before we caught our flight to Vancouver. We got in and checked into an old hotel in Gastown. It was late for us, though only six in Vancouver. We went immediately to find some food.
Like the embassy in Ottawa, the consulate building and its dozen offices was woefully inadequate for the number of people who worked there. After we checked in at the consulate, we were taken to another building where the trainees looked desperate for some way to relieve their workload.
“We get as many visa requests in this office as in the rest of Canada combined,” said our trainee. “A lot of traffic from Asia makes its way to Vancouver, hoping to get into the US. Add to that the assignment to get the employees in Calgary and Winnipeg badged in the next thirty days, and you can see we are swamped.”
We set about helping them get set up and learn to use each part of the system. They thanked us and we headed for the airport and a late afternoon flight back to Chicago. Anna was waiting at the gate for us when we arrived. Ronda and I both collapsed in her arms and she got us home and in bed as quickly as possible.
Of course, Friday was a work day and we needed to be in the office returning support calls and getting our ducks in a row for Mexico the next week. That included getting over to the warehouse and marking the shipment that would be loaded on our plane first thing Monday morning.
We flew out of Midway Airport early Monday morning. Midway was more convenient for charters than trying to negotiate the mess at O’Hare. I checked off the packages to be delivered and we took our seats on a mostly empty plane.
“Nice purse you’re carrying,” I said. “Isn’t that new?”
“Official diplomatic pouch,” she said. “You heard the consul general tell me I should get one before he gave you the letter. Turns out it was an expensable item, so Josie and I went shopping at Talcomb’s Luggage. I tried to get one that didn’t look too feminine since you might have to carry it at times. This is from De Martini Globe and is their elite luxury leather model. They mostly make canvas bags.”
“Does that mean you are carrying diplomatic papers?”
“That information is available on a need to know basis,” she intoned. “Fortunately, my trainer told me you need to know. It’s always possible that you will need to take possession of the bag to make a delivery where a woman can’t. So, yes. I am carrying the papers the diplomats we pick up will need when they have their meeting with the foreign minister.”
“Why aren’t they carrying their own papers?”
“They aren’t couriers.”
“Oh.”
There were a couple of others who sat toward the front of the plane and when we landed in DC, they got off. We were told to stay put. I didn’t recognize the airport from looking out the window.
“We’re at Andrews Air Force Base,” Ronda said. “That’s why we aren’t getting out of the plane. As soon as they refuel, the other passengers will board and we’ll take off for Mexico City.”
“That’s a long dang flight.”
“It’s about the same as coast to coast. I don’t know if this plane will need to refuel on the way or not.”
“How come these guys didn’t board the flight and come to Chicago? It would have been a shorter flight from Chicago.”
“For us. It would have meant a longer flight for them. The people getting on the plane now are all so far above our paygrade that we’re just lucky they’re letting us tag along.”
At that point the VIPs started entering the plane. There really wasn’t a difference between what would be first class on a normal plane and coach. All the seats were wide and comfortable. The VIPs didn’t all sit crowded in the front. They sat about a third of the way back. As soon as they were buckled in, the plane spooled up and we were off. Once we were up in the air, a stewardess came to the back of the plane to ask us if we’d like breakfast. They hadn’t served anything from Chicago to DC but coffee. We thanked her and got coffee and an omelet. Then she brought us sweet rolls after the VIPs had been served up front. If I counted correctly, there were six men and two women up there and they were having a meeting as we flew.
We did land in Texas to refuel. As soon as we were in the air again, the stewardess served us dinner. The flight from DC to Houston had been around five hours, but we gained an hour in time change. Mexico City was south of Houston and a little west. The flight time was about two hours but it was the same time zone. But for us, we had a two-hour flight from Chicago to DC with a one-hour time change. Now we were back in our own time zone. So, flying for nine hours plus ground time in DC and Houston meant we’d been gone just about twelve hours when we arrived in Mexico City at seven in the evening.
When we got off the plane, we needed to stay with the equipment until we’d presented our credentials to Mexican customs. Then a truck was there to load up and take us to the embassy. We went straight through the gates and all the equipment and supplies were unloaded at the loading dock.
Of course, embassies operate on normal business hours, so there was no way to deliver the documents. It was nearly ten o’clock by the time Ronda and I gathered our luggage and my camera case to go to our hotel. We made a call home to talk to Anna and Patricia and then we crashed.
We were at the embassy at eight o’clock in the morning and ready for our first training session. I had the technicians from the embassy proper for the first session and we were about an hour into the session when a woman showed up and asked Ronda to please accompany her. She took the pouch and was back in about half an hour. We just kept working.
We’d be doing four training sessions over the next two days in Mexico City. The technicians from Merida, Monterey, and Guadalajara would come to Mexico City for training. Then we’d fly out to work our way up the eastern border of Mexico and train at Matamoros, Nuevo Laredo, and Ciudad Juarez. We’d train technicians in Nogales for both there and Hermosillo. Finally, we’d train in Tijuana.
But we’d unloaded all the equipment in Mexico City. Our plane was going to take the diplomatic team to Chile on Wednesday, it would be back on Thursday evening to fly us north, after we’d reloaded all the equipment for the northern consulates. The pilot had explained the logic in all that unloading and reloading as we got the equipment off the plane and into the truck for the embassy. This way, there would be no equipment in the plane when it flew to Chile, nor when it returned to Mexico City. I guess these guys were making a long run of it because they were returning the National Security Adviser and his staff to Washington DC late Wednesday night and returning for us on Thursday.
The first training session went well and the four people were successful in setting up, tearing down, and creating both IDs and passports. We finished about two o’clock and were summoned to the office of the Ambassador’s secretary.
“These will be formal photos of the Adviser, the Ambassador, and the Secretary of Foreign Affairs,” the secretary explained to us. “We expect you to take portraits and a variety of informal poses of the three men working together. The ambassador’s press secretary will guide you through the process. When you finish a roll of film, Mr. Hart, please hand it immediately to Miss May to put in her diplomatic pouch. You will take pictures in each of the consulates you visit as well. In fact, the consuls general of the three southern consulates will be here on Thursday afternoon for you to take formal portraits. When you return to the US, you will deliver all the film to the Assistant Secretary of Consular Affairs. He will see to the processing and printing of the photos. Please take good pictures. The last portraits from Mexico were all blurred.”
“We’ll do our best,” I said. I was thinking I should have come equipped with more than the Nikon, but this was the first trip where I’d had to actually transport all the equipment and I didn’t want to be over-encumbered. It was difficult enough to have my folding roller cart with my suitcase, Ronda’s suitcase, and my Zero Halliburton aluminum camera case.
“Did you get lunch? I’ll bet you didn’t even get breakfast. We have about an hour and a half before the ambassadors are ready for photos. Let’s go to the cafeteria.”
We had gotten coffee, or what the restaurant called Café de Olla, which was spiced with cinnamon and cloves, and conchas at the hotel, but that seemed like a long time ago. In the embassy, the food in the cafeteria was pretty normal American fare.
I was introduced to the press secretary and went through the process of making sure each of my subjects was well-lit and in focus. I still went through two rolls of film and handed them off to Ronda for securing in her bag.
Wednesday morning, we had students from Merida. In the afternoon we had Monterey. The days went pretty smoothly. We got to go out to a local restaurant for dinner and ate whatever was set before us. We managed to avoid the chili fried grasshoppers, though.
Thursday morning, we had the technicians from Guadalajara in for training. They were happy and took their equipment directly to the loading dock for transport to their consulate. Ronda and I went through all the remaining equipment to be sure we had the right supplies for each of the remaining six consulates. We ate dinner at the embassy cafeteria where the ambassador found us and delivered an envelope for each of the consuls general we would meet.
We supervised the loading of the equipment and sealing the truck to go to the airport and had to wait an hour before the plane arrived. We got the equipment loaded in the right order and boarded. There were two guys dressed in pilot uniforms and a stewardess in the back of the plane, already snoozing. We were invited to sit up front.
“We had to pick up a second flight crew in Washington this morning because we were putting so many hours in,” the chatty stewardess said. “We’ll all get a rest this weekend after we make the hop from Matamoros to Nuevo Laredo. I believe you’re slated to train there first thing Monday morning and then we hop up to Ciudad Juarez. You’ll barely get time in the sack in each of the three locations after Nuevo Laredo, so make the most of this weekend. If you want to come and party with us, you’re welcome to. We have absolutely no other responsibilities than you for the next week.”
“Wow. That’s very nice of you to offer. We’ll talk it over and figure out what we want to do before we hit the air again tomorrow afternoon,” Ronda said. “What’s your name?”
“Oh! I’m Nancy. Sorry, but we don’t usually wear name badges. I hear you’re going to change all that.”
“I don’t know how quickly it will be rolled out to your department or wherever your base of operations is,” I said. “The definite trend is to get all government employees carrying a photo badge by the end of 1973. I suppose that means there will be a scramble coming up in the next month after the election.”
“I suppose so. Did you vote?”
“Turned in our absentee ballots before we started this trip,” I sighed. “I’m afraid I’m not all that hopeful that anything will change.”
“Well, it’s eight o’clock. Can I bring you a drink? Do you want any snacks to eat?”
Both Ronda and I accepted a cocktail and some peanuts. The flight was only an hour. It was an in-country flight, so there were no customs or officials to check in with. The plane was secured, with all the equipment on board, and we went to our hotel. We were all in the same hotel, but we declined an invite to go out with the flight crew. At least one of the pilots would need to go back to the airport with us to load the equipment for this consulate at eight in the morning.
That set the tone for most of the next week. We did spend some time with the flight crew over the weekend in Nuevo Laredo. It was funny to think we were in a foreign country, but just across the river from Laredo, Texas. It was as far from the airport to the consulate in Nuevo Laredo as it would have been to land at the airport in Texas and drive back to the consulate. This way, though, we didn’t need to cross the border again.
We discovered the pilots and stewardesses partied pretty hard the first night, but then had to stay sober the second night so they’d be ready to fly Monday afternoon. They wanted to know all about how a couple who were so young got to be diplomatic couriers and command a plane at their disposal. I let Ronda handle that part of the conversation as I really didn’t know. It seemed too improbable to me. I was just a photographer and trainer.
Nancy let it be known to us that if we would like to continue a private party with her, she’d be interested. I really wasn’t that interested. I was missing Patricia, Toni, and Anna. Ronda kind of licked her lips at the thought of Nancy settling her pussy down on her face, but she let it pass.
We got the equipment over to the consulate Monday morning, did the training and headed back to the airplane. Then it was on to Ciudad Juarez. The consulates around this circuit had a very heavy traffic for visas. The equipment would be used to make ten times the number of visas as passports. And each consulate had thirty to seventy personnel to make badges for. That would be the first responsibility of each team of technicians.
When we got to Tijuana Wednesday night, the pilots made some noise about wanting to spend an extra night there ‘where everything is legal, or at least not too illegal. I had to become the bad guy and insist that we needed to be in Chicago on Friday and we had to make a stop in DC first thing that morning before we could get home. We finished the training in Tijuana at three and headed for the airport. I expected the plane to be considerably lighter on the way back, but we picked up half a dozen passengers in Tijuana for Washington. We made a short hop from Tijuana to Phoenix where we were quickly cleared by a federal agent, who came through the plane checking our passports while the plane was being topped off with fuel. Then we settled in for the long flight to Washington, DC.
Nancy served us a nice farewell dinner once we were airborne and then we all settled down to sleep.
Two o’clock in the morning is not the greatest time to arrive in Washington, DC. We didn’t have anyone of sufficient rank to authorize a landing at Andrews, so we went in at National. We caught a taxi to the Plaza and managed about four hours of sleep before we had to get up to go to the State Department.
When we walked into the Truman Building, it was a different sight than when I’d been there just three weeks earlier. Everyone I saw was wearing their badge, displayed on a lanyard, or pinned to a pocket. Ronda and I fit right in and were cleared into the building immediately. We went directly to the Assistant Secretary for Consular Affairs’s office and told his secretary that we had a courier delivery for him.
“I’ll take it,” she said, holding out her hand. Ronda and I looked at each other.
“Protocol says we must hand the packet to the Assistant Secretary himself,” Ronda said.
“Oh, that’s a bunch of nonsense. I’m authorized to receive anything for him.”
“No,” I said. “Too many things get screwed up and we’ve been given direct orders on this. Please tell the Assistant Secretary we are here with a diplomatic pouch.”
“He’s busy. If you’re going to insist on seeing him, you’ll just have to sit and wait,” the rather snooty secretary said.
“I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you delayed the delivery of the pouch from the Ambassador to Mexico,” Ronda said.
“I’ll let him know you’re here,” she answered.
She left her desk and we sat down in the waiting area. I had no doubt the Assistant Secretary was very busy, but I wasn’t about to violate protocol our first time on a mission. I’d met the man at the dinner reception a few weeks ago. He was nice, but I took it that he was a no-nonsense kind of guy.
A minute later, the secretary returned and Assistant Secretary Johnson was right behind her. The secretary looked like she’d just swallowed a spider.
“The Assistant Secretary will see you…”
“Nate, welcome back to Washington,” Johnson said, cutting her off and reaching to shake my hand. “And this must be the famed Ronda May. Please come in to my office. I’ve been expecting you.”
We followed him into an office that was considerably more ornate than Mr. Martin’s in Chicago.
“I hope you weren’t offended by Miss Darcy. She is a professional who has been around the State Department for years. I wouldn’t be surprised if her pay grade is higher than mine. We’re still learning to get along with each other. So, how was the trip to Mexico?” he asked.
“Exhausting but successful,” I said. “We got ten units installed and trained.” While I was speaking, Ronda pulled her envelopes from her bag and set them on Johnson’s desk. He looked at them and nodded, but didn’t say anything about them.
“Where are you off to next?” he asked.
“We have this week to recover in Chicago,” Ronda said. “Then we’re doing another two-week loop through Central America.”
I hadn’t even paid attention to our schedule beyond this week. Central America? We’d be utterly spent by the time we finished that.
“Excellent, excellent. I’d like you to continue your secondary mission of photographing our ambassadors and consuls general. When you can, I’d like photos of them in their offices, but you may find some of them in meetings.”
“I only carried my 35mm Nikon on this trip. Do you want me to carry a higher quality camera?” I asked.
“Nearly everything we are set up to do here is 35mm. If your camera is good enough quality, I don’t see a reason to change format. Now, Ronda, we’ll continue to use you to carry envelopes to each of the embassies. Obviously, these are not time sensitive as you will have some of them on your person for two weeks before you can deliver them. We have very little opportunity to pass on personal greetings to our people on the front lines, so to speak. I won’t say you shan’t have any mission critical documents, as you carried to Mexico City, but many of the things will be simple items like a birthday card or congratulatory note. Receiving such a greeting from an official courier elevates its importance so our people know we are genuinely thinking of them and are concerned for their well-being. Your travels represent an opportunity that we want to take advantage of.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, sir,” Ronda said.
“Well, so far, we’re all happy with the progress you’re making. You’ll note most of the people in the building now have photo IDs. The regional passport centers report a 90% saturation and the remainder are being brought in rapidly. Of course, there are close to a hundred thousand federal employees here in DC. It will be more difficult to roll the ID program out outside of our building. We will succeed, though. Now, I know you need to get to your plane. I believe there are several people hitching a ride to Chicago with you. I’ll see you after your next trip.”
“Thank you, sir. We’ll be on our way,” I said.
“Birthday cards?” Ronda spluttered as we boarded the plane home. Over a dozen people were seated farther back in the plane. “Here I thought I was carrying drafts of trade agreements or treaties!”
“You might be,” I said. “You know he really hedged on the whole idea of mission-critical documents. I think the whole thing about birthday cards was to make us more comfortable with the work. We really need to work on the logistics for the Central America tour. I assume we are going to transport all the equipment and supplies with us. How do we handle leaving part of it on the plane while we train in one country and then fly to another? We won’t need to unload and transport everything to an embassy and then cart it all back to the plane in the morning, will we?”
“I sincerely hope not. Right now, all I want to do is go home to our wives and little girl.”
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
