“And what is our next step?”

“When the ambassador arrives at his office, Jim Tiptree is going to have to involve him in the effort to secure the release of the Peppers. That, of course, will mean the involvement of State, since the ambassador will certainly inform the Caribbean Desk, as a matter of routine.”

“And we don’t want that, do we?”

“No, Director.”

“And how do you propose that we prevent that from happening?”

“The ambassador to St. Marks, Warren Holden, is a personal friend of the president, I believe.”

“Yes, they were both Senate staffers on the Select Committee on Intelligence when they were younger. Are you suggesting that the president call Holden and prevent him from reporting this incident to State?”

“Nothing quite as formal as that,” Lance said. “If he could just ask him to give us time to get the Peppers released and off the island.”

“And when they’re gone, then report to State?”

“Well, a delay in reporting might make it awkward to report it at a later date.”

“So you want the president to call in a favor from an old friend?”

“It was a pretty big favor, on the part of the president, to appoint his old friend to a cushy Caribbean ambassadorship. I should think Mr. Holden would be anxious to repay that.”

“I suppose he might, but if this should turn into an international incident, then…”

“I believe this will end with the release and repatriation of the Peppers.”

“What, exactly, do you want Warren Holden to do?”

“I’d like him to call the prime minister, Sir Winston Sutherland, tell him that the Peppers are personal friends of his-they play bridge every Thursday, or something like that-and ask him to call Colonel Croft and have them released at once.”

“Are you at all concerned about the security of Holly Barker’s group? Should we get them out of there now?”

“An airplane had already been scheduled to pick them up at noon tomorrow and bring them home. I think to rush that might be counterproductive.”

“Would there be room on that airplane for the Peppers?”

“There would be, if I send a larger airplane.”

“How large?”

“The presently scheduled airplane is quite small; something mid-sized, like a Hawker, would be sufficient.”

“All right, I’ll ask the president to make the call. If we can get the Peppers off the island tomorrow, and without a fuss, then Holden can just forget any of this ever happened. I want you to take every conceivable step to see that a fuss does not occur.”

“Certainly, Director.”

“Because that is what I’m going to tell the president, and you’d better not make a liar of me.”

“I’ll get this done, Director.”

“All right, I’ll make the call now; go back to your office, and I’ll call you when it’s in the works.”

“Ah, there is one other thing, Director.”

“What thing?”

“Hugh English.”

Kate Lee emitted a small groan.

“There was no way I could ask Jim Tiptree not to report this to him. I’m sure he’ll be on the phone to me within minutes.”

The Director sighed. “Hugh English is going to be more trouble than the ambassador,” she said.

“I know. Unless you speak to him before he speaks to me, there will be an eruption, and I don’t think we want that.”

The director picked up the phone. “Get me Hugh English, please; if he’s not in, try his cell or his car phone.” She pressed the speaker button and waited.

Lance tried not to squirm in his seat.

“Hello?” Hugh English might have been in the room with them, his voice was so clear.

“Good morning, Hugh.”

“Not really, Director; I have a problem.”

“The situation in St. Marks?”

There was what seemed a stunned silence, then: “I’m very surprised that you should know about this so quickly, Director; I’m not sure it rises to your level.”

“Hugh, we’re not sure about this yet, but the Peppers may have been detained because Bill was trying to extract some information from St. Marks government computers at my request.”

“I received no such request from you, Director.”

“No, it was made through another Agency officer who is also present on St. Marks at the moment. It’s my understanding that Bill Pepper has been extracting all sorts of information from those computers for months, so I believed that my request would be routine for him, and he did not indicate otherwise.”

“Director, I’m sure this could have all been avoided, if you had had the courtesy to go through my office, as prescribed by the operational procedures which you yourself instituted.”

“Perhaps, but we don’t know that yet. He may well have been detained for something you yourself asked him to do.”

Lance loved that.

“In any case, Hugh, I am personally working to have the Peppers released and returned to the U.S., perhaps as early as tomorrow, so please take no steps in that regard without consulting me first.”

“As you wish, Director.”

“I think we can resolve this quickly and without a fuss, so just give me some time. In the meantime, you might be thinking about a replacement for the Peppers on St. Marks.”

“Don’t you think that might be precipitous, Director? I mean, until we know the meaning of their detention, we won’t know if they’ve been compromised.”

“Hugh, they were compromised the moment they came to the personal attention of the infamous Colonel Croft.”

“Quite,” Hugh English said. “I’ll begin working on a replacement. Is that all, Director?”

“For the moment, Hugh.”

“Good-bye.” He hung up.

“If he calls you, Lance,” the director said, “stonewall him, but as politely as possible. Now, get to work on getting an airplane there tomorrow.”

Lance stood up. “Thank you, Director.” She was asking for the White House when he left her office.

34

Bill Pepper still sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair, and the light coming through the closed shutters on the window told him that the sun was well up; his stomach was telling him it was near lunchtime. Colonel Croft kept leaving the room and returning and asking the same questions all over again.

Colonel Croft now returned again and took his seat at the desk. “Mr. Pepper,” he said, “I am growing weary of your intransigence.”

“Colonel Croft,” Pepper said, “I have repeatedly answered every question you have put to me; there is no intransigence on my part.”

“Mr. Pepper, go to the door there and open it.”

“Colonel, I have already seen your display.”

“Do as I say immediately.”

Pepper got up wearily, went to the door and opened it. Everything was as before, except that Annie Pepper was seated in the torture chair, blindfolded.

“Return to your chair and sit down,” the colonel said.

“Annie,” Pepper said, “don’t worry, honey; everything is going to be all right.” He closed the door and returned to his chair, this time frightened, but furious.

“Now, Mr. Pepper…” the colonel began.

“No, Colonel,” Pepper replied, cutting him off. “Not now, not ever. I demand to see an official of the American Embassy at once, and if you so much as touch a hair on the head of my wife, I will take it upon myself to see that you will spend the rest of your days regretting it. And if you don’t think I have the juice to do that, you are very much mistaken. This interrogation is at an end.”

The colonel rose from his chair, opened a desk drawer and removed what appeared to be a riding crop. He strode around the desk and stopped in front of Pepper. “Now, Mr. Pepper, we will see how much influence you have.” He drew the crop back so far it was over his shoulder.

Irene Foster was pushing her grocery cart down an aisle at her favorite supermarket in Markstown, thumping melons and sniffing cheeses, when her basket collided with that of another woman.