Follow Focus
25
Visitors
SEVERAL PEOPLE from the embassy, led by Robert Brice, were waiting for us at the Southend-on-Sea airport. We were all taken into custody. The two pilots went to one car and Nancy to another. Ronda and I, with our luggage were taken to Robert’s car, and we left the airport.
“You’re not in custody,” Robert said. “Our bosses have requested a meeting as soon as I can get you to the chancery.”
“At this time of night?” I asked.
“It’s only two in the afternoon in Chicago. And I think Lincoln works in the embassy around the clock. You did good work in reporting the incident from Crete. It allowed us to check into the situation and have people prepared at the airport when you arrived. I doubt that your pilots were in collusion, but they should have been calling in from their plane. We’d have had someone on it in Egypt.”
“It would have cost them $10,000,” Ronda said.
“What?”
“The hijacker gave each of us a strap of $100 bills for having inconvenienced us. Nate’s and mine are in the garbage bag we’re hauling around as a courier bag. The major took mine.”
“You can probably keep it,” Robert said. “It’s unaccounted cash. It was given to you. You weren’t asked to deliver it someplace. Of course, if it’s linked to a bank robbery or something like that, it will have to be returned, but I have a feeling it’s been accumulating for a long time and your major was just using the plane as his personal bank.”
“You know, if he’d asked us to deliver him to Egypt because he had a personal emergency, we probably would have agreed. He didn’t need to pull a gun and hijack the plane. We often take people from one embassy or consulate to another. We aren’t usually being shot at, though,” I said.
“We have a crew that will scour the plane inside and out before you use it again. We want to make sure you weren’t hit by anything and that there is no other contraband on board,” Robert said. “The crew will also be reviewed. If they were placing loyalty to a former employer above their current work, we’ll have them removed.”
“I don’t think Nancy will be a problem,” Ronda said. “She was ready to tackle him one-on-one until he pulled the gun. And she worked in transporting us to Mexico and South America with a completely different crew.”
“I’m sure she’ll be back with you if you want her,” Robert said.
When we got to the embassy, we went straight to Lincoln Abbey’s office and he connected to our boss on his speaker phone.
“Any more adventures you two want to get involved in?” Mr. Martin asked.
“No, sir. Didn’t want this one.”
“Well, you handled it well. That plane will be grounded for three weeks, so you’ll have time to spend with your family over the holiday. Do you have dispatches from the offices in Greece?”
“Yes. We got a large package from the ambassador and a somewhat smaller one from the Consul General. We plan to transfer them to another courier as soon as one can be dispatched to Washington,” Ronda said. “But we also received a verbal report from both the ambassador and the consul general. They didn’t trust the information to be written down in Greece.”
“You know we were planning to meet with my friend, Hector Costas and his wife Helen Adams. Hector said he sometimes walks among the hills near the Bulgarian border, taking pictures. He gave me two rolls of film to pass on to my superiors because he no longer had a contact. I might just be guessing here, but I’d bet his contact was probably the major,” I said.
“That changes things a bit. Don’t hand off your package to another courier. I want you to bring the bag yourselves. I’ll have Josie make sure your tickets are waiting at check-in early Monday morning. She’ll be in touch. Come straight to the Truman Building. I’ll meet you there and we’ll deal with the packages and the verbal report.”
“Should we bring the money with us, too?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. Money. Afraid so. They’ll want to check serial numbers to determine if any crimes were committed that are traceable. Unlikely, but we’ll want to check.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll see you Monday,” I said.
“The photos,” Martin jumped in before we hung up. “Process and print the film you got from your friend. It will save us time when you get to DC.”
“Yes, sir.”
He disconnected and we faced the Deputy Chief of Mission for the embassy.
“I don’t really have questions for you,” he said. “You did the right thing calling Robert. I wanted to know if you have plans for the holidays. Things get very quiet here at the embassy over Christmas and then pick up fast the following week. So, the next two weeks will be pretty quiet here. There’s no real reason for you to come in at all. The week of New Year’s, things will likely be so busy here that no one would have time for you. So, I’m affirming your boss’s assessment that you just take time off. But I don’t want to just cut you off from the community here if you are alone over Christmas.”
“Thank you, sir. Patricia’s parents are coming in next weekend and we’ve been invited to spend the week at Plympford. The following week, Ronda’s parents will be in town to see how the New Year is celebrated in London,” I said.
“With pickpockets, thieves, and idiocy, of course. Advise your guests to be sure their wallets and travel documents are secure. Have a good time in DC. That’s all we have to cover here.”
We went out and found our car was waiting to take us to the apartment and the loving embraces of our family.
The flight Monday was at eight in the morning. We were in Washington DC eight hours later at half past eleven in the morning. We caught a cab to the Truman building and were in the office by one.
“Welcome back stateside,” Mr. Martin said. “Brief visit, I know, but an important one. We have a conference room waiting.”
“Who are we meeting with, Mr. Martin?” Ronda asked.
“You met John Phillips, the representative of the courier service. Chief of Staff of the State Department is Ed Watson. And the Deputy Director of the CIA, Wallace Morgan. You have everything with you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m afraid I’m carrying it in a purse rather than a diplomatic courier bag,” Ronda laughed. “It was either that or a diaper bag.”
“That would have been entertaining,” Martin chuckled.
We got to the conference room before anyone except Mr. Phillips had arrived. I renewed our acquaintance and introduced him to Ronda. The other two men arrived together. I thought for a moment there would be an argument about who came into the room first, but they resolved it in the hall. Mr. Morgan walked in, followed by Mr. Watson. Watson wasted no time starting the meeting.
“We’re here because two of our State Department employees, on a critical mission, were hijacked by a CIA operative. That operative further emptied the contents of the courier bag they were carrying and replaced it with a garbage bag. The hijacker diverted the plane to a drop point over Egypt and bailed out, leaving the pilots to find their way back to friendly skies. Does that about summarize it?”
“The operative mentioned is no longer employed by the company. I call it a simple criminal act,” Mr. Morgan said. “There’s no real reason to call our department into the discussion.”
“None except that the hijacker had a panel removed from inside the plane and collected what we estimate as about $600,000, but not all in US currency. There were drachmas, franks, marks, pounds, and one or two currencies our courier could not readily identify,” Mr. Martin said. “He left $50,000 in $100 bills to be split among the other occupants of the plane for their inconvenience.”
“Lucky them,” Morgan said.
“Nate?” Martin turned to me.
“We were in contact with a friend in Thessaloniki who asked us to get two rolls of film to our department. He said he took the pictures near the border with Bulgaria, but his contact had disappeared,” I said.
“I’ll take those,” Morgan said, suddenly changing his attitude.
I handed the film and prints to Mr. Martin who shuffled through them and handed them to Mr. Phillips, then to Mr. Watson, while Morgan complained that we had no right to those photos. Watson handed the rolls of film on to Morgan, but kept the photos.
“The secretary will want to see these. Nate, who is the person circled in this photo?”
“I did an enlargement of that image and believe he is the person who hijacked our plane. It appears he is leaving a vehicle filled with arms and accepting an envelope of cash,” I said.
“You printed these? You made enlargements?” Morgan said in outrage. “I must protest, Watson. How can you claim this is anything other than espionage? Your people should have had no access to that film.”
“On the contrary,” Phillips said. “Nate and Ronda are diplomatic couriers with a high security clearance, and had every right to investigate what they were carrying. Your man, who you claim is no longer with the agency, put our people at double risk by not only hijacking their plane, but by causing them to carry material that could have them classified as spies if they were caught. We want this agency renegade brought to account for his actions.”
“Good luck with that. They dropped him ten miles from the border with Libya. Libya is actively training terrorists for battle with the United States and we no longer have even a diplomatic presence there. Any incursion into the country to capture a fugitive would be considered an act of war. You don’t want that, John.”
I noticed that when talking to the secretary, Morgan used last names, but in talking to my boss and Mr. Phillips, he called them by first names. I thought there was some internal hierarchy that was being held to, even though they were in different departments. I also noticed that he already knew where we’d dropped the major off. We hadn’t mentioned that.
“We still have issues,” Mr. Martin said. “We’ve detained the pilots in London on suspicion of collusion with the operative. They were previously pilots of the same plane before it was surplused by your agency, flying for Air America. The hijacker knew them and gave them orders which they obeyed. We have also confiscated an interesting bit of technology they called a GPS.”
“We’re a little ahead of the curve, but the GPS will be common in every plane in the sky within ten years. You have nothing.”
“Good. We’ll want our couriers here trained in how to use it. It seems useful,” Phillips said.
I started to lose focus on the conversation. It looked like these guys could go on for hours. As if dismissed by a school bell, though, the two hotshots stood up and left Mr. Phillips, Mr. Martin, Ronda, and me alone in the conference room.
“What just happened?” I asked.
“The meeting ended,” Mr. Martin said, nodding. “Around Washington, business is given an allotment of time. That is the time it uses. No more and no less.”
“They didn’t even say goodbye,” Ronda said.
“By the end of the meeting, they didn’t even know we were here,” Phillips said. “Let’s see what else you have in your courier purse to pass on.”
Ronda pulled everything out of the bag. It did not have any girly stuff in it other than her black passport, which she pulled aside. There were two large packets addressed to the Secretary of State, two rolls of film that I’d taken of the ambassador, the consul general, and the chanceries with the old Nikon, and two straps of $100 bills. We’d carefully separated out my film from the new Nikon. I got some great pictures inside the church we visited.
“Okay. Here’s a receipt for the documents and the film,” Phillips said. “I’ll leave the cash to you, Don. I’ll send a steno down to take your verbal report from the ambassador and it will be given directly to the Secretary of State.” He shook hands with all of us and left.
The stenographer was waiting outside the room, so for the next hour, Ronda and I managed to recount as much of the information as we could for the woman writing in shorthand. When we said we were finished, she said, “Thank you,” and left.
“Now, there’s a matter of ten thousand dollars,” Mr. Martin said. “We plan to run a serial number search on the cash from each of you. But a ten grand bonus is nothing to turn your nose up at. Unfortunately, no matter what you see in movies, using hundred-dollar bills or depositing a bunch of them, is a hassle, and you still have to account for it for your taxes. You don’t want the IRS on your back.”
“I think the IRS would have to deal with what was left of me when Anna was through,” I said.
“There’s a simple way to deal with it,” he said. “Tuck that away and we’ll go down to the Treasury. Considering the amount you are carrying, we’ll take a car, even though it’s only ten blocks. There, you can turn the money in to the Assistant Secretary of Intelligence and Analysis. I’ve already prepared a document regarding where the money came from. That office and the Office of Financial Crimes have access to a huge database of where currency is located. Most of their work is focused on drug trafficking and human trafficking. But since Muammar Gaddafi in Libya made his announcement that he would give training for armed combat to any Arab who wanted to volunteer for Palestinian armed groups, and after the events in Munich last year, the Treasury has been getting busier with terrorism financing.”
“It’s amazing how much of our government we don’t generally know about,” I said. “It’s like the whole thing of nabbing Al Capone for tax evasion when they couldn’t get him for anything else.”
We were driven over to the Treasury Building, just on the other side of the White House from the Truman Building. The Assistant Secretary was expecting us and had an agent with him. They quickly riffled through the bills and nodded. Then the Secretary signed a receipt from the courier and handed the bills off to the agent. We left.
“That has to be a bit of a disappointment,” Martin said. “It’s not often that mere mortals get to handle $10,000 or $20,000 in cash.”
“It wasn’t ours,” I said.
“No, but this is,” he said as we rode back to the State Department. He handed Ronda and me checks. “This is a bonus of ten thousand dollars for service above your expectations.”
I looked at the check for $6,500.
“Um…” I started.
Martin chuckled.
“It’s an official pay check. Taxes were automatically deducted. If you have a bank branch here in DC, I’d recommend we go straight there so you can deposit it without having to go through the British banking system.”
We went to our bank where our salary was automatically deposited. We transferred funds from it to our account in London so we could live there, but I’d been surprised at how quickly funds were accumulating in our home account. Anna would be surprised to see this deposit. Then Mr. Martin dropped us off at the Plaza Hotel with a wish for a good night and a good flight the next morning.
Ronda and I went to our room, exhausted. We’d been living on Europe and London time. It was already past ten in the evening at home. We called our family and talked to Anna and Patricia. We’d be home the next day, or night after the time change.
We debated ordering room service or going out for dinner, but Anna said she’d love to hear another report from the restaurant I went to on my first trip. My stomach was growling. We’d last eaten on the plane and hadn’t even had coffee during our meetings. I made a call and found that I could get a reservation at the Ebbitt Grill if I could be there within half an hour. It was still early for dinner in DC. We caught a cab and were there in fifteen minutes.
I’d last been here with Adrienne a year and some months ago, so I was surprised when the maître d’ greeted me by name and led us to the same table where Adrienne and I had our dinner. He presented us with a menu and me with a wine list.
“Nate, there are no prices on my menu,” Ronda whispered.
“We just got $13,000 in bonuses from our boss. Don’t worry about how much your meal costs,” I said. She frowned at me.
I don’t get that. My menu had prices on it and I knew Ronda wouldn’t have more than a salad if she saw them. I was feeling a little flush and even high, so I ordered a cheese tray for an appetizer and a bottle of the Cab/Franc wine from Saint-Émilion Adrienne and I had enjoyed. Then I ordered the filet mignon to signal Ronda that anything she wanted was okay. She took the hint and ordered half a dozen raw oysters and half an herbed chicken. We had enough food and drink to last us a long time and just enjoyed ourselves immensely.
Until we saw Wallace Morgan seated at the table next to us.
“Keep the cash?” he whispered across the gap between our tables.
“No. We turned it in at the Treasury Department,” I growled. He shook his head.
“That’s the difference between State Department and the Agency. With us, it’s finders keepers. You could have been rich.”
“You have a different definition of rich than I have,” I said.
“It would just have been a down payment, like the rest of the money Maurie Sanders had stashed. He worked hard in service to his country for twenty-five years at great risk to himself to accumulate that money.”
“Selling arms to the communists?” I asked.
“Bait. Why do you think they were chasing him all the way to the airport?”
“I don’t think you have any ethics in your department,” Ronda said.
“They’re flexible. We could use you. Both of you. We don’t have enough pairs working together.”
“Not just no,” I growled. “Hell no. I’m not participating in any of your clandestine operations to overthrow governments or to steal from illegal arms and drug deals or to spy on students at American universities. Take yourself and your entire agency, and go to hell.”
“Very unfriendly of you. Those stories are all made up by sensationalist liberal media.”
“Sure they are.”
“We’re patient. Here’s my card. Call in and ask for me if you have a change of mind for the better.”
He got up and left with his meal untouched on the table.
“I would offer you his meal at no charge, but personally, I don’t trust him not to have poisoned it,” our waiter said, setting down the cheese tray and the oysters.
“Please don’t pass it on. I’ll gladly pay his tab,” I said.
“No, sir. Miss Baudelaire would be unhappy if I did that.”
“Oh. Of course. Thank you,” I said.
“Do you ever get the feeling our mistress is looking over our shoulders?” Ronda asked me.
“I have begun to believe she is omniscient,” I laughed. We enjoyed the rest of our meal.
“We woke our pet yesterday morning,” Anna giggled when she picked us up at the airport in the embassy car. I was glad they let her ride along. None of us had really done any driving on this trip and I was just as happy not to.
“Why did you do that?” Ronda asked.
“I needed to tell her you were in Washington, DC. We knew she couldn’t join you, but thought she might have some suggestions for you. She said to tell you to dine at Ebbitt’s. Did she have a table waiting for you?”
“It’s possible. Though we were there fairly early. They certainly recognized us and took us to the same table where Adrienne and I ate,” I said.
“They even mentioned her when we offered to pay that scumbag’s bill,” Ronda added.
“I don’t think we take advantage of her nearly as much as she would like,” Anna said. “I’ll try to think up tasks and plans for her. She really does get off on being of service to you. To all of us.”
I was just glad that we’d be in town with our lovers for the next three weeks.
“Oh, my. This is such a lovely apartment,” Elise said after she’d been tackled by her first granddaughter. Of course, Toni wanted to immediately show her grandma and grandpa her ‘princess room.’ She loved her canopy bed and was just as excited to show her grandparents baby Alex’s room. We finally caught them in the guest room as Toni conducted them there.
“I don’t know,” Tor said. “I think she’s doing the wrong accent. She sounds like an Englishman and not a good Swede.” He laid on his own light accent a little thickly.
“Morfar, I can be a good Swede, ya know?” Toni shot back, mimicking his accent and using the Swedish word for Grandpa. He was surprised. “I can explain to Aunt Jane and Uncle Peter what you say in English.”
We all started laughing. Patricia’s Swedish was pretty basic, but she’d been teaching Toni what she knew. Our five-year-old was smarter than I was.
Old Auntie was delighted to serve us our first meal with parents that evening. Sunday, she was leaving for Keswick in what she called The Lake District. Her grandchildren lived in the small town and she would spend Christmas with them, but be back to cook Sunday dinner for Ronda’s parents when they arrived the following weekend.
Monday morning, we caught the bus to Coventry. It was a much prettier ride than the train had been. It was a good thing, because it was a solid two and a half hours with the stops the bus made. Once in Coventry, though, Jane’s driver Dora met us with the estate wagon, rather than the car she usually used for transfers. There were eight of us with luggage. We only just fit in the estate wagon.
Our arrival at Plympford was heralded by Dora sounding her horn as we entered the estate. Jane, Peter, Audrey, and Derek all came down the steps of the castle to meet us. Jane was almost into the third trimester and she was definitely showing her pregnancy. I was surprised to see Audrey equally as pregnant. I hadn’t seen her since we’d moved to London.
After all the introductions and our luggage being unloaded from the estate wagon, I finally got a chance to talk to Audrey.
“Was this because your best friend was pregnant, so you had to keep up?” I asked.
“No. I was lonely. So, while my lord and lady were off enjoying their honeymoon, I sort of got involved with this bloke I met at school and we started fooling around. Near as we can tell, Jane and I are due almost the same time.”
“And this bloke you got involved with?” I asked.
“We have a little flat in Stockingford. He’s a writer so it doesn’t make a difference where he lives. He knows I come to visit Jane every day when she’s in residence. Nice guy and not too possessive. And Jane was excited to hear the news. You know, Derek was a little lonely while they were gone, too. He had some adventures down in London town, but no one got pregnant.”
“Well, I’m glad everyone is happy,” I said. “Now come and meet Toni’s grandparents.”
It was too late for that. Toni had Peter and her grandparents outside, playing with Brian and the dogs.
Lady Madeline presided over dinner and gave the place of honor opposite her to Tor. Madeline, however, wanted Patricia and Alex next to her so she could dote on the baby. Conversation was mostly around the different Christmas traditions of the families.
“Well, we normally have stockings hung by the fireplace on Christmas Eve for Father Christmas to fill,” Lady Madeline said. “Then everyone opens gifts on Christmas morning while we sip champagne. In the afternoon, there is the Queen’s address on television, after which we have a huge Christmas dinner.”
“Now, our Tomten, or Santa Claus, shows up with all the presents on Christmas Eve and we open them then,” Tor said. “But the season really begins in November with four Sundays of Advent. We light a candle in the Advent wreath on each of the four Sundays before Christmas and the Christ candle is lit after midnight on Christmas morning. There’s quite a lot of chanting and reading of scripture in the Catholic church on Christmas Eve. With the children having already opened their toys, they are settled down a bit better for the church service.”
“Nate, how does your family celebrate Christmas?” Jane asked.
“We seem to have a mix of things. We start on Thanksgiving Day with a big parade of balloons and floats, after which all the department stores unveil their Christmas tableaux in the windows. For gifts, we exchange family gifts on Christmas Eve. There might be one or two left under the tree for Christmas morning, but we hang stockings the night before that Santa fills and that is what we open on Christmas. Our Christmas dinner is usually the midday meal instead of evening. When we were traveling in Germany, my sister gave us an Advent Calendar for Toni with a door to open each day in December. Each one has a little saying and a chocolate in it. We brought it with us.”
“Jesus is born and brings everyone presents,” Toni volunteered. It was hard to keep all the stories straight sometimes.
“Don’t forget the panto,” Peter said. “Of course, it’s over already this year. We should have had you come up yesterday.”
“It is Christmas Eve, isn’t it?” Jane said. “Why don’t we have a little of everyone’s tradition and open some presents tonight. We can sing carols.”
“And hang stockings for tomorrow morning,” Peter said. “I have it on good authority that Saint Nick is visiting tonight.”
“There’s a term I heard that I didn’t quite understand,” Anna said. “What is Boxing Day?”
“Ah, the day after Christmas, all our staff and their families will be served from the manor house kitchen and will be given their presents from the estate. I’ll welcome you all to participate. It’s not the only time of the year that I cook, but it is the biggest meal I prepare. Close to a hundred men, women, and children will come to pay their respects to the Lord and Lady, have a plate of food, and receive their gifts,” Lady Madeline said.
It seemed the course of our week was set.
We gathered at the Christmas tree set up in the solar. We’d all put little presents under it and there was a gift or two for everyone. Of course, the bulk of the gifts we’d brought were for Alex and Toni. Alex loved the wrapping paper. At ten months, she was moving around on the floor and attacking all the packages, whether they were hers or not. We also gave some baby gifts to Jane and Peter. We’d scrambled a little to arrange a baby gift for Audrey and her man, Nigel Peacock.
I was extremely pleased when Toni found out who each gift was from and ran to thank that person or couple for it. She also took charge of thanking each person for the gifts that Alex got and then sat with her sister to show her how to build with her new set of blocks. Like most babies, Alex was more interested in knocking down the structures than building them. It took all of two minutes, I think, before Peter was down on the floor playing with them.
Fourteen stockings were hung by the chimney with care… I was amazed that Jane had decorated stockings for each guest and names on each identified who it belonged to. Looking at the stockings and at their Christmas tree, I felt Jane was showing a bit more of a crafty side than I’d thought she had. I should have known, though, that she liked to make things. The tree had lights on it, but was mostly strung with popcorn and cranberries, little straw wreaths and other woven ornaments, and candy canes.
I sat in front of the fireplace with Toni on my lap. She was in her pajamas and ready for bed. Alex was drowsing in Elise’s arms. I read the Christmas story from Luke and then danced with my girl off to bed. The Christmas stockings seemed to swell with gifts, candy, and fruit overnight and in the morning, we gathered with coffee, hot chocolate, tea, and champagne. Each person was given his or her stocking and we had a good time with a beautiful brunch set out by the staff.
At three o’clock, we all sat in front of the TV—Jane and Peter had a color TV!—and watched the Queen’s Christmas message. It was broadcast from Sandringham, though not from the Wood Farm. I was reminded that in England, the Queen is the sovereign of the Commonwealth and is also traditionally the head of the Church of England. Her closing remarks seemed especially poignant.
I believe that Christmas should remind us that the qualities of the human spirit are more important than material gain. Christ taught love and charity and that we should show humanity and compassion at all times and in all situations.
A lack of humanity and compassion can be very destructive—how easily this causes divisions within nations and between nations. We should remember instead how much we have in common and resolve to give expression to the best of our human qualities, not only at Christmas, but right through the year.
In this Christmas spirit let us greet all our fellow men and join together in this festival of tolerance and companionship.
I wish you all a very happy Christmas.
I guess we all needed to hear that.
Christmas dinner was fantastic, and not all that different than what we’d have back home. We had a huge roast turkey with chestnut stuffing. This was accompanied by Yorkshire pudding, which was more or less like a big popover. Of course, there were Brussels sprouts. I guess English banquets like this aren’t complete without two meats, so in addition to the turkey, there were sausages wrapped in bacon and baked in the oven until crisp on the outside. Toni immediately launched into telling her grandparents about how Old Auntie had fixed her toads in a hole.
Instead of mashed potatoes, we had roasted potatoes with parsnips. And gravy, of course. The cooks served up a trifle, and had a special little one for Toni that didn’t have sherry in it. There was wine all the way through the meal, and we were allowed to have coffee after, even though our British friends all had tea.
I guess I needn’t explain that we were full past the comfort zone.
We were not too full, however, to welcome Jane to our bed for Christmas loving.
When we volunteered to help with the Boxing Day meal, I don’t think any of us were really prepared for the scope of the event. Lady Madeline had intended to do the major cooking herself with help from her daughter, Peter, Derek, and Audrey. We left the children with their grandparents and the dogs while the four of us joined in making a second Christmas feast. We worked from six until two with three huge hams in the manor house ovens, mounds of potatoes and sweet potatoes, more Brussels sprouts, apple sauce, and mince pies.
Then we served people for nearly two hours as they came through to pay their respects to Lady Madeline, and to Lord and Lady Winkle. Each person received a gift from the trio. The gifts were simply divided into ‘man,’ ‘woman,’ and ‘child.’ The rest was a grab bag our hosts called a ‘lucky dip.’
We nearly had a crisis the next morning when Lady Jane gave Toni permission to ride her horse if she was accompanied by Lord Peter. They did have a good time, even with parents anxiously watching from the fence. The stableman had short stirrups for Toni and was in the ring with the two riders. The first time Toni took a real jump that was more than the horse just stepping over an obstacle, her parents and grandparents nearly lost their minds. Toni was proud of herself.
Later, it was time for us to go catch the bus back to London, Toni simply sat down.
“I will stay with Aunt Jane and Uncle Peter,” she announced.
“Honey, you can’t stay here. You have to come back to London with us,” Patricia said.
“No, Mommy. Aunt Jane needs me to ride her horse because she can’t ride while she’s pregnant. I need to exercise her every day.”
Suffice it to say there were tears and anger and some amount of vitriol, but Lady Jane announcing they were going to London for a few weeks and the horses would be put out to pasture finally stopped the tantrum. We hugged our hosts goodbye and Dora drove us back to Coventry to catch the bus to London.
On Saturday, Ronda and Patricia rode with Tor and Elise to the airport, then waited for Ronda’s parents, Joseph and Susan, to clear customs. Toni, of course, was overjoyed to have another set of grandparents to dote on her. Dr. and Mrs. May, however, wanted to do everything in London and wanted to take Toni and Ronda with whoever else wanted with them. It was going to be another exhausting week.
On Sunday, we visited the Tate Art Museum. It was good, but I was really surprised how fascinated Toni was by the different styles of painting. When we got back home, we could hardly get Toni out of her room to come to dinner. She was ‘working on her style’ of painting. The thing was, even though she wasn’t skilled in drawing yet, I could recognize several of the styles she tried.
Anna and Ronda went to Westminster with the Mays on New Year’s Eve to hear Big Ben strike the hours announcing 1974. Patricia and I stayed home with the children. We danced and played, and then went to bed. By the time the clock chimed midnight, Patricia and I had made love and were sound asleep.
On Wednesday, Old Auntie sat with the children, while the rest of the family went to see Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. It was a good performance, but I was beginning to wish I was on the road so I could rest a little. That was not to be. Thursday was our day at the British Museum.
The last time I’d been to the museum, Jane and I had been on the hunt for potential models and found Lettie Saunders, a student who posed with various statues and then went to the Serpentine to have a photo session in the nude. It was fun to show Toni more artwork and point out the students in the museum who were drawing statues or copying paintings.
I had a camera with me, but I was paying attention to Toni and carrying Alex, so I wasn’t thinking of taking pictures at all. That’s when Anna relieved me of the camera and declared that we needed family pictures. Since I was busy, she’d take them.
That was fun. We got a lot of pictures of me with my daughters.
I think the Mays were as exhausted as the rest of us when they finally caught their plane back to the US. We spent Sunday putting our lives back together, and then rested. Monday, Ronda and I had to go to work.
“Why don’t you go to Dublin this week?” Mr. Martin asked when we had our meeting call Monday afternoon.
“We hadn’t scheduled anything this week because we were uncertain of the status of the plane,” Ronda said. “Should we fly commercial?”
“Your plane has been cleared and you have new pilots. I’m suggesting a trip to Ireland as a kind of shakedown cruise for you.”
“Oh, good. Do we still have Nancy with us?”
“Yes. She also spoke highly of you in her debriefing and was paid a bonus just like you were.”
“The pilots?” I asked.
“We didn’t find them in collusion with Major Sanders, but we decided a transfer was in the best interest of everyone. Your new pilots are younger and have no history with this aircraft. That’s why we’re suggesting the short trip to Ireland this week to get to know each other,” Martin said. “I’d say go over Wednesday afternoon and have dinner with your crew that evening. The ambassador will want to have dinner with you Thursday evening at the residence. In addition to the training and installation, the department would like you to take some nice promotional photos of both the chancery and the residence. You’ll find they are unique and I think you’ll enjoy the work. Plan to fly home Friday morning and give me a report that day on how the new crew worked out.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll get right on it. I think I’ll go out to the airport tomorrow to meet everyone and load the airplane with our equipment.”
“I’ll leave it up to you.”
Ronda got on the phone to the embassy immediately to coordinate timing with the trainees. I called the airport and warehouse to arrange delivery of our equipment. Edith made arrangements for us to have a car and driver.
It felt good to be back to work.
“Hi, I’m Nate Hart, Foreign Service Specialist, Passport and Visa Services,” I said when I met the crew at the airport. The two pilots snapped to attention and then noticed I was extending my hand to shake.
“Captain Luke Davies, sir!” the first guy said. He was eye-to-eye with me, so I assumed he was about six feet tall. I’d never quite made that last half inch. He was in uniform, including his hat and white shirt with four stripes on the epaulets.
“First Officer Juan Ramirez, sir!” the second guy joined in. He had a stiffly starched white shirt as well. Three bars on his epaulets and a formal hat. Two or three inches shorter than me, I thought.
“Gentlemen, I’m not big on formalities. This isn’t the military. I’m just Nate, not sir.” I turned to Nancy and gave her a hug. “Hope you had a good holiday, Nancy.”
“Yes, Nate. The bonus was really nice,” she replied.
“Ramirez and I are only recently out of the service, Mr… um… Nate,” Luke said. “It might take us a little to get used to addressing a superior officer by his first name. I’m Luke.”
“We’ll get it worked out, Luke,” I said.
“Folks call me Jay,” Ramirez said.
“If that’s what you prefer, that’s what you get,” I said. “I’ve got some equipment and supplies to load into the plane. Why don’t we do a walk around after we get things stowed.”
My driver pulled up next to the plane and we unloaded the boot to put the supplies in the cargo hold. Once things were secured, I watched the pilots lock it up. Then we went up into the plane to take a look around.
“Did Nancy tell you about our adventure before Christmas?” I asked the pilots. It looked to me like there were some new scuff marks on some of the panels and I was sure a seat had been switched.
“We only had the privilege of meeting Miss Nancy this morning,” Luke said.
“Well, you see these scuff marks on the wall panels? It looks to me like they took everything out of the plane and pulled all the panels over the holiday, then put it back together. Check around the cockpit to be sure everything is in top condition and meets your approval. I don’t know what kind of people did the teardown. We were hijacked in Greece and diverted to Egypt. The hijacker was a former operative who had stowed several hundred thousand dollars behind this panel.”
“Do we have permission to carry arms?” Jay asked.
“Hmm. I don’t set the rules on that, so you will need to check up your chain of command and get that answer. I will tell you that I would have been distressed if it had come to that during our incident. It did not hurt anyone to transport him to the drop point in Egypt, and he was polite, even though armed. We will often have a passenger or two when we’re moving between embassies. And either Ronda or I may be carrying dispatches and need to make unscheduled stops. We’ll try to give you as much notice as possible about that.”
“So, this guy just happened to have money stashed on the plane?” Luke asked.
“The plane formerly belonged to the Agency and the operative had been using it as a bank for several years. When it was retired from Air America, we got it at the State Department.”
“Were the pilots disciplined for letting an unauthorized person aboard?” Luke asked.
“No. If anyone had been disciplined for that, it would have been me. I decide where the plane goes and am responsible for the passengers. But they’d been pilots of this plane when it belonged to the Agency. It was decided that they should return to the Agency and fly planes there, and not be on equipment that was retired from there.”
“Permission to ask a question, sir?” Jay asked.
“Jay. Please.”
“Um… Nate, sir?”
“You’ll get it eventually. Go ahead.”
“If I may, you look really young to have the rank of lieutenant colonel. How did that come about?”
“You guys are both retired military, right?” I asked. They nodded. “I have a GS level of 14, which I’m told is the equivalent pay grade of a lieutenant colonel. But in the State Department, it’s just a pay grade, not a rank. Ronda and I were assigned this pay grade because we are transporting mission critical equipment for passport and visa creation that affects national security and prevents falsified documentation. We also function as diplomatic couriers. The rank comparison was provided so that people understood that the plane was ours for use on this mission and it takes either a general officer in the military or executive level embassy staff to divert it. We have priority.”
They both nodded their understanding and we continued checking everything for the trip. Nancy checked all her supplies and asked what time we’d be taking off.
“Luke, we’re headed to Dublin tomorrow. Can you file a flight plan and be ready to go by, say, nine-thirty?”
“You’ve got it, Nate.”
“We’ll have a passenger. We’ll be staying in Dublin two nights and our assistant is making lodging arrangements for us. We’ll remove the equipment when we arrive. Ronda and I will go to the embassy and you’re on your own until seven. We’ll give you the arrangements for dinner that evening. Ronda will want to get to know each of you as well. She and I will be spending the afternoon photographing the embassy and the ambassador. Thursday morning, we’ll install and train personnel on use of the new equipment. In the afternoon, we’ll be photographing the ambassador’s residence and will have dinner with him. You’re on your own. We’ll fly back Friday morning. Questions?”
“No, sir. We’ll be ready,” Luke said.
Oh well. Some things take time to settle in.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
