Veronica - Part One

by

Reagan Kavanagh and Diana Walker

This work of adult fiction – based loosely on characters portrayed by Russell Crowe – includes adult language and experiences; you have been warned.  Additionally, some content is categorised as NC-17 for graphic descriptions of violence and details regarding the mind and behaviour of serial predators.  The children shown above are professional models, and their photos and portfolios are available on the internet. No copyright infringement of original work is intended. Copyright Reagan Kavanagh and Diana Walker 2006.

Early May 2006

REAGAN 

The phone rang a bit after four in the morning.  I heard Max fumbling for it, knocking the handset onto the floor, fumbling again until he found it, and finally answering, his voice thick with sleep.  For an old soldier, the man has an appallingly slow wake-up time; perhaps he’s gotten accustomed to having someone around to kick-start him, if necessary.

“Max Espan.”  A pause and then he sat upright, turning on the light before reaching over to shake me to insure I was awake.  Once I had my eyes open, he motioned for me to grab the pad and pencil that is always on my side of the bed and hit the ‘speaker’ button on the phone before placing the handset back on the base.

“She is awake now, Terry.  What has happened?”

“You recall the Forsythe family?  You brokered their policy last year.”

“Of course.  A delightful family.  There are two daughters and one son if I recall correctly.  I take it their policy is now being called into effect.”

“Right.  I just had a call from the father, Edward.  Their 11-year-old daughter, Veronica, has been abducted.  I have myself, you, and Reags booked out on the Delta flight at 0905 to Atlanta and on to Cairo via Paris.  We’ll arrive in Cairo at seven tomorrow evening.  Meet me in the international departures lounge at DFW at 0700.  Dino will stay here unless we need him.”  I looked at Maximus and nodded.  It was four-fifteen.  We had just over an hour to pack and get on the road to DFW.  I crawled out of bed and pulled on my robe, listening to the conversation as I went to the closet for our suitcases. 

“What are the circumstances surrounding her abduction, Terry?”

“She was taken from her back garden in the American Embassy compound.  A friend was with her, and the two who took her were clearly interested only in the Forsythe child.  The Marine Gunny at the Embassy has been talking with the family and the child’s little mate.  He has a verbal description of the abductors and has called in one of the women staffers at the Embassy.  Seems she’s a rather good artist, and she’s working with the child on sketches; I’m not hoping for a great deal.  Max, this bears all the earmarks of the series of abductions that has taken place over the past couple of years, remember?  Reags?”

“I’m here.”

“Get ready to put on your profiler’s hat, Love.  We’re going to need your skills.”

“When you said you had me booked out along with you and Maximus, I rather figured that, Terry.  No wurries.”

“Good.  I’ll see both of you at the airport.”

After the night I’d told Terry, Dino, and Dee about my background with the BAU, Terry had invited me to lunch one day with the specific purpose of going further into my years as a profiler.  On several occasions in the past, both he and Dino had been on assignments where the assistance of a profiler would likely have been beneficial in terms of having an idea what to anticipate from the kidnappers in instances where there was no prior data available on them.  In response to his question of whether I would consider working with TEO in that capacity – should they require a profiler at some future point in time – I’d said I would.  That future point in time had now arrived.  I was fortunate in that classes had ended the preceding week, and I’d decided against teaching my usual summer sessions this year; I had other matters that took priority.

I looked at Maximus and suppressed a smile as he shook his head.  There was minimal professional requirement for Terry to be making this trip with us, though most K&R firms tend to put more people on a case when a child is involved.  The Middle East is Maximus’ territory and under normal circumstances, Terry wouldn’t even have considered going with us.  Anything he could do for Maximus could easily be done from here.  Terry had a more personal reason for making this trip …Dee.

*

Terry spoke as soon as he walked up to us.  “I’ve booked us into a three-bedroom suite at Le Meridien.  We’ll use the spare bedroom as base; if that gets dicey or we need to bring Dino in later, we’ll start looking for a villa to let.”  He looked at his watch.  “We have an hour-and-a-half before we board.  Let’s find coffee.”  There was a Starbucks less than one hundred feet from where we stood.

TERRY

Cairo …and Diana.  She’d been there for almost two weeks and had no idea I was on my way in.  She’d been tasked by GAO to investigate a problem at the Embassy there and had gone in as the ‘interim’ HR Director after the former one retired.  I was sure she knew that the Forsythe child had been abducted, but as she didn’t know we held the family’s K&R policy, she had no idea who was coming in to work the case.  She had to know someone would, but the chances of TEO having the policy were small.  In truth, I doubt she knew the family had K&R coverage; there was no reason for her to know.  I’d never mentioned it, and I knew neither Max nor Dino would have said anything.  Like me, they had no reason, and there’s a cardinal rule in our industry that extends to our policyholders.  No one talks about it.  If the policyholder reveals to anyone that they have coverage and the carrier learns of that indiscretion, the policy is immediately cancelled.  Diana was likely expecting the FBI to come in to cover the crime scene and carry out the investigation and negotiations.  They were the United States’ official hostage negotiators for both private individuals and government entities, and for never having paid a single ransom, they had an amazing track record.  The boys from DC would arrive on the flight ahead of us and take over the lock down of the crime scene from the Marines at the Embassy.  They knew we were on our way - Veronica’s father had told me that when we’d spoken - and we had a good working relationship with them.  The FBI had been among the first to acknowledge that there were instances in which victims had been freed who would have been killed or never seen again if firms like TEO, Luthan, and CRG didn’t exist.

Diana was staying at the Nile Hilton.  The Embassy put their overflow staff there, so when I’d booked the three of us into a hotel, I’d chosen Le Meridien.  At least that way Diana wouldn’t risk being seen with me at her own hotel; she could spend the nights at mine, subject to her agreement to do so.  Since this would be the first time we both would be working at the same time, I had no idea if she would have time for me.  I looked across the aisle at Max and Reags.  They had their heads together going through the Forsythe file.  Had they looked my direction, they’d have recognised the look on my face in a heartbeat …anticipation.  Two weeks had been a long time for Diana to be gone.  If they had realised my underlying reason for going on this trip, they’d had the good grace not to rub my nose in it.  At this point, I doubted either of them had even thought about the fact that Diana was in Cairo.  I went back to my daydreaming for a bit, then got up and walked to the toilets whilst I was still capable of locomotion.  Something told me I’d likely make several such trips before we put wheels down in Egypt.

VERONICA

You’d think Ashley would at least have screamed or something.  She saw them before I did.  I knew something was wrong because she was talking, and then she just stopped.  I like, you know, turned around, and somebody grabbed me and pulled something over my head.

It’s dark here.  I miss Wills. 

MAXIMUS

Breakfast had been served and removed.  I was sitting beside the plane’s window; my thoughts turned to the child, Veronica, and turned immediately dark.  I thought of my son, Marcus, and the terror he must have felt at the hands of the Praetorians, knowing that this child must also be terrified in the hands of her captors.  For whatever small comfort it afforded me, I knew that Marcus’ terror had been brief.  I banished the thought as quickly as it had come.  Dwelling on the past would not help us recover this child, in this time.  I had been unable to help my son; pray the Gods it will be different with this child.

Veronica Forsythe was older than Marcus by three years.  At the age of 11, she would be more wary of her captors and likely more acquiescent to their demands; she was old enough to have some understanding of her situation.  I could only pray those demands would not be physically injurious to her.  It was enough that she would suffer the mental trauma that necessarily accompanied having been taken from her home and all that was familiar.  Cassandra had been noticeably quiet since take-off, silently perusing the Forsythe file when I handed it to her.  I knew that she, too, was remembering another time and place and another child.  I checked my watch.  We were halfway to Paris when she returned the file to me and asked one of the cabin attendants for a blanket.  Opening it, she pulled it over herself and laid her head on my shoulder.  I am unsure if she actually slept; her eyes remained closed, and she was silent until we were requested to return our trays and seat backs to upright positions in preparation for approach to Charles de Gaulle Airport.

*

We were in our hotel in Cairo by nine and settling into our respective rooms in the suite.  I spoke to Terry whilst Cassandra was in the bedroom.

“Will you call Diana tonight?”  He shook his head in the negative, affecting surprise that I recalled she was in Cairo on assignment.  It was clear he hoped Cassandra and I had forgotten that small detail.

“Too much to do tonight for personal considerations.  If we don’t run into her at the Embassy tomorrow, I’ll call her when we get back here tomorrow evening.”  He looked at his watch.  “I say we order up dinner and call it a night but for finishing up the reports we didn’t get to on the flight over.  This may be the last undisturbed sleep we get for a while.”  Whilst we waited for room service to deliver our meal, we went about setting up our equipment in the suite’s third bedroom, stopped to eat when our meal arrived, and resumed our work when we had done.  At midnight, I stood in the door of the room and looked about.

On the far wall was a desk with the requisite short-wave radio and its attached tape recorder ready for activation at a moment’s notice; there was a map of the city and its immediate surroundings tacked to the wall above the radio.  I could not but wonder what the housekeeping service might think were they to see our equipment.  It seemed unnecessarily risky to me to conduct this particular negotiation from a hotel room and wondered if the Embassy might be persuaded to give us a small room suitable for our purposes; I had not long to wait for my answer.  It was apparent that Terry shared my concerns.

“I know you’re not pleased with our conducting negotiations here – I’m no happier – but the Embassy is filled to overflowing, and you know Cairo’s a tight housing market when you start looking for a private villa that isn’t collapsing round your ears.  That’s my first choice, and whether we decide we need Dino or not, we’ll start looking in a few days if it appears we’re going to be here for more than a couple of weeks.  For now, we’ll have to make do by taking down the map and stowing the equipment in the locked trunk over there before the maid comes in each day.  Of course, this is your gig, and if you deem it appropriate to move into the Forsythe’s house until first contact is made, we’ll move all this over there straight away.”  I nodded, thinking, and he continued.

“When I called the Embassy, there’d been no contact from the kidnappers, but that isn’t surprising as it’s not yet been 72 hours.  I reckon we’ll have something with the next day or two, don’t you?”  Cassandra emerged from the bedroom, and he spoke to her.

“Reags, how much information do you need to start working on a profile on these bastards?”

“I need full copies of whatever files the various agencies – police, private negotiators, whomever – have from the first five abductions.”  Terry frowned.  “Terry, I know you don’t like asking local authorities directly for records, but if you want a profile, I need a starting point and those files are it.  You’ll likely have to get the Embassy to file a special request with State and have them contact the governments involved.  After that, I want to visit every crime scene.  I know they’ll have been tampered with by now and re-opened for use, but by being there, I can get a feel for these people.  I need to see what obstacles they had to surmount in order to abduct those children and move about with them.  I need to see the dumpsites where the bodies were found, and if it’s known where any of the children were held, I need to see those locations as well.  I need to interview their families and friends …anyone who worked the cases …I need to do whatever will get me into the head of the mastermind behind these abductions.  I need to figure out his motive then sort out his behaviours because that’s the basis of a profile.  The goal is bringing Veronica home undamaged if that’s humanly possible.  You have to work with me in getting State involved.”  Terry seemed to think for a moment, then nodded.

“Right.  I was figuring who I needed to talk to first, and you’re correct …I don’t usually go directly to local authorities because I’ve spent my life having to work round them.  Of course, given that we’re dealing with the dependent of a State Department staffer, this has to be by the books, but if we can’t get what we need through official channels, I’ll get it through the back door, and I’ll get the diplomatic channels opened first thing tomorrow.  If you plan on visiting the locations, I don’t want you doing so alone.  The Middle East is too unstable at this point to let a woman – albeit a very capable one – travel unaccompanied.  This is Maxie’s show, and he needs to be here, so I’ll be traveling with you.  If he needs help whilst we’re gone, Dino will come in, and Sooze can handle the office.”  I appreciated Terry’s having made the point that one of us would accompany Cassandra as, had he not, I would have done so.  It is not that I do not trust Cassandra to take care of herself, but another pair of eyes would be advisable.  We had no way of knowing if she would be watched – and that was highly probable, as she is a comely woman - and it was best to take all due precautions.  I was fortunate, as her pragmatism overrode her emotions in the matter.

“That’s fine with me.”

*

The Following Morning – Conversation around the water cooler at the U. S. Embassy

“I knew the Forsythe’s were loaded, but since they are, you’d think he’d be higher up the pecking order, wouldn’t you?”

“Not necessarily …the Feds don’t give a damn how deep your pockets are.  They’d just as soon humiliate a rich kid as a poor one.  I hear he’s the second or third son, and rather than screw up the family’s org chart and cause a power struggle in the corporation, he chose to go into public service.  But, yeah, the family is wealthy …have you gotten a look at the new, private industry crew that arrived last night to work on the kidnapping?  Am I allowed to call it a kidnapping, or is abduction still the word of the day?”

“Haven't seen them yet …tell me, and call it whatever you like.  It sure as shit spells kidnapping to me.”

“Three of them, two men and a woman, and, Honey, the guys are pure beefcake.”

“Any wedding rings in sight?”

“Not a one.”

“Thank God!  What do they look like?”

“Do the drool marks on my chin offer any indicators?”

“That good, huh?”

“Better.  Of course, they’re all business right now.  Maybe in a week or so we can get them to loosen up a little.”  Diana walked up, effectively terminating the lust fest.

“I was looking for you, Marie.  Could you pull some more current files on our third-country nationals?  I need the Ss now, and the Ts this afternoon.”  I sighed as she walked away.

“She kicks ass and takes names.  I didn't work this hard with Bruckner.”

MAXIMUS

The bulk of our collective day was spent interviewing the Forsythe family - who provided us with photographs of the child - and Embassy staff and going over the crime scene.  Terry put in requests to the Department of State that would permit us to request case files from foreign governments; the local attaché advised that it would likely be several days before the Middle East Secretary responded.  I was in the room with Cassandra when she interviewed Veronica’s family members individually.  The Marine Guard from the Embassy saw to it that none of the family members spoke to those already interviewed; it was critical that we have each person’s distinct impressions rather than an amalgam derived from comparing our questions.  The parents were sure there had been no recent changes in the child’s schedule; the mother did not work and both took and collected her middle child from the school on the Embassy Compound each day whilst the one son rode the bus or his bicycle to and from school.  There was the usual round of private lessons …music lessons, piano in this instance, dancing, and French lessons.  The youngest daughter was not yet in school and spent her days at home with her mother.  The eldest child and only son – William – was fourteen and though initially sceptical – warmed quickly to Cassandra.

“Do you spend a lot of time with Veronica?”  She couched her questions in present tense to the greatest extent possible, thereby subliminally transmitting the message that Veronica was alive and would return to her loved ones.

“Not as much as I used to …but she’s gotten kinda weird lately.”

“What do you mean by weird?”

“Said someone was spying on her …stuff like that.”

“When did she say that?  Did she say it more than once?”

“I don’t know …maybe a month ago?  Yeah, she even woke me up in the middle of the night once because someone was at the window of her room.  I got up and looked …there wasn’t anyone there, and I told her to go back to bed.”

“William, ….”

“Wills.”  Cassandra smiled.

“Wills.  It sounds like you and Veronica get along pretty well.  If that’s true, you can help us a lot because you may know things she hasn’t told anyone else.”  The boy shrugged but nodded.

“What else can you tell me about the 'someone spying on her' bit?  Take your time, but do try and tell me everything you remember.”

“Are you guys gonna be able to find her?  Nicki’s just a little kid.”  I removed my jacket and sat beside him before speaking; he was fighting tears, and it was clear that he loved his younger sister.

“Wills, if I may presume to call you that, we will do all in our power to find Veronica, but we cannot do so without your help.  It appears that she chose you in whom to confide her fears.  Anything you may recall and be able to tell us is helpful, even though it may seem unimportant to you.  If you wish to stop for a time and take a break, the doctor here is more than willing to allow you to do so.  Do you understand, Son?”  He nodded and wiped his eyes, and I sought to reassure him regarding his display of emotion.  “Tears are not unmanly, Wills.  It takes a strong man to cry, to be willing to allow others to see that he has emotions and feelings; tears and emotions are not a sign of weakness.”  He smiled and shrugged again, a boyish gesture that tugged at my heart.

“I guess …do you ever cry?”  I smiled and nodded. 

“Ask her,” motioning to Cassandra.

“Does he?”

“On occasion, when something touches him deeply.”  He looked at her hands where they rested in her lap, then back at both of us.

“Are you guys engaged?”  I put my arm round his shoulders.

“We are, and I am a most fortunate man.”  That personal knowledge of us seemed somehow to reassure him of our humanity.

“Okay, I’m ready to talk again.”  I removed my arm from his shoulders and sat back.  We waited for him to begin.

“About a month ago, she said she thought some guy was watching her on the play ground at school.  She said he was there at recess every day for about a week, and he always smiled when she looked at him.”  Cassandra resumed her questioning as the recorder turned.

“Did she say what he looked like?  What kind of clothes he wore?”

“She said he was Arab …’course everyone in Egypt is, so that’s no big deal.  Nickie said he looked kind of dirty …needed a shave and wore baggy old clothes.”

“Did she say whether his hair was long or short?”

“Kinda long, over his collar a little.  She notices a lot for a kid.” 

“Did she ever say that he talked to her?”

“Not that she told me.  Nickie’s kinda shy …she usually won’t talk to people she doesn’t know.”

“What about the night she woke you …do you remember what time it was?”

“I looked at my clock; it was a little after midnight.  She said the man from the playground was looking in her window.”

“Did you tell your parents?”

“Yeah, she didn’t want me to, but I did.  I told Dad the next morning before he left for work.”

The father had not mentioned that.  Perhaps it had slipped his mind; perhaps he did not wish to recall the incident.  We would ask him about that, and determine if he had spoken to anyone at the school about the reports.

*

I spoke with the father.

“Mr. Forsythe, William tells me that several weeks past Veronica awakened him, saying there was a man at the window of her bedroom.  Did he tell you of that?”  He sighed deeply before answering.

“Yes, he did.  I talked to Veronica, and she said it was a man she’d seen outside the schoolyard fence a couple of times.  I talked to the headmaster about it; he said he would alert the faculty and they would keep an eye out for him.  As far as I know, they never saw him after that.  Do you think that’s who took her?”

“It is possible.  We will speak to the headmaster and faculty to determine if any of them recall having seen such a person near the school.”  Unfortunately, they did not.

*

In speaking with the child’s teachers, we learnt that another child reported seeing ‘the man who was watching Veronica.’  We spoke with the child, but she was unable to provide any more of a description than that obtained second-hand from Wills.  She had gone to her homeroom teacher with the information on learning of Nickie’s disappearance.  It would appear that the man had vanished from the school following the night of his visit to Nickie’s window, as none of the teachers recalled seeing such a person. 

With digital camera in hand, Cassandra took dozens of photographs of the scene of the abduction and from every conceivable angle.  We returned to the school with Wills, and he indicated the location in which the man Nickie had seen usually appeared; Cassandra took more photos.  We also found several cigarette butts under a tree …unusual, as smoking was not allowed on the school grounds and collected them in plastic bags for handing over to the FBI’s crime scene investigators.  They would return them to Quantico for processing as, even with the transit time involved, results would likely be obtained more quickly than if they were entrusted to local forensics specialists.  Once back at the hotel, Cassandra uploaded the photographs to her laptop, enlarged them for printing, and then, magnifying glass in hand, poured over them even more closely than she had the physical scenes.  Terry and I were discussing the events of the day when she interrupted us.

“Come look at this.”  She had an array of photographs spread on the suite’s dining table and tapped one.

“This is the tree where we found the cigarette butts, and this one,” pointing to another, “is of Nickie’s classroom …taken from the vantage point of standing under the tree.”  One could see clearly into the classroom and a single empty desk beside the window in easy line of sight from an onlooker standing beneath the tree.  Terry looked at Cassandra.

“I take it the empty desk is Veronica’s?”  She nodded. 

“I’m thinking whoever took her had been observing her for some time before he ever allowed her to see him when she was on the playground.  Look at the other children who are visible …and think about the photos you’ve seen of Nickie.  She’s easily the most attractive child visible from that vantage point …and she’s blonde.  Many Arabs have an affinity for blondes.  I’ve always felt that was one reason the Arab men I worked with cut me as much slack as they did.”  Terry nodded.

“Reags, we need to talk to every kid in that bloody school.  One of them is bound to have seen this bastard.  If we get lucky, it will be a child old enough to be able to give us a good description.”

As Sherlock Holmes was wont to say, the game was afoot.

TERRY

I’d rented a black Merc for us to use whilst here and was standing in front of the Hilton, leaning against the car as I called her room.  She answered on the third ring.

“Hey, Lady, what are you doing?”

“Terry …you’ve just gotten in to the office.  Slow day?  Not much on the blotter?”

“Actually, I have quite a bit planned over the next few hours.  Are you going out for dinner?”

“Funny you should ask.  I think I’m just going to order up.  By the way, I hope you’re not expecting me to wear the body armor while I’m in the hotel.”

“No, I'm not expecting that.  But I do expect to see you in it any time you leave the room.”

“See me in it?  You’ll never know.”

“I have eyes everywhere.  And I hear Le Meridien has really good tucker.” 

“Terry, if I were going out, it would not be to another hotel to eat more hotel food.  All I have to do here is be in sweats and a t-shirt when the waiter delivers.  Then I can take off the sweats, pile up in bed, and have a lovely dinner right here.  If I were going out anywhere, I’d have gone with the girls right after work.  They were headed into the souqs for a ‘real live’ Egyptian dinner.  I was just too tired to bother.”

“What would entice you to leave the room tonight?”

“Nothing that I can think of right now.”

“How about if I’ve arranged for a lovely, romantic dinner for one?”

“Lovely, romantic dinner for one.  Now that’s a contradiction in terms.  Did you hear that we a child abducted several days ago?”

“So I’ve heard.  Remember …I not only have eyes everywhere, I have ears as well.”

“I would think – given that you know about the abduction – you wouldn’t want me out of the hotel tonight for a lovely, romantic dinner for ONE.”

“Ah, but I have insured that you will be well protected.”

“Oh, right.  That would go over real well with my current colleagues.  Not only do I have this elusive guy back in the States, but he’s wealthy enough to provide me with my own private bodyguard.  Terry, you know what a gossip mill an embassy is.  Give me a break.  I’m here as the interim HR director when the sole purpose of this trip, in my mind, is reviewing HR files.  I’m supposed to be just a suit from the GAO.  I don’t need any more speculation about me than already exists.” 

Time to switch tactics as the original plan clearly wasn’t working.  “So what’s the good gossip round the water cooler?”

“The only gossip we have right now is the Forsythe child.  The guys from Quantico got in early yesterday, along with a K&R team, and the single women are glad for the infusion of fresh meat; the men are drooling over the gal who does sketches and computer IDs for witnesses and the woman with the K&R group.  What’s new on your end?  Are Holly and Okie keeping you company?” 

Time for another red herring.  “Yeah.  Max and Reags have had me over for dinner a couple of times, and I’ve not gone out with Dino to any of the gentlemen’s clubs …yet.  How much longer is your assignment there?”

“It’s probably going to run the full six weeks.  And no, I’m not milking it.”

“I know you aren’t.  But the house seems awfully big and empty without you.”  As we’d been talking, her voice had perked up.  There was more energy and interest now, and it was taking the place of the fatigue I’d heard initially.  It was time for another run at my plan.  “Rather than having dinner in your room, why don’t you throw on your togs and have dinner downstairs?”

“That means I’d have to put on the damned body armor.  I do what you tell me – sometimes.”

“I think you could forego the Kevlar if you stay in the hotel.  Of course, if you decided to walk out the front door, I’d expect you to be wearing it.” 

She laughed.  “I might give the dining room staff a thrill and go down wearing just the body armor.”

“Now that would be a sight to see.  If you’re going to the trouble of putting on the armor, why not take a stroll out front of the hotel?  I can have a car there to collect you in five minutes.”

“Terry, it takes longer than that to get an overseas call through.”

“Not if I already have them holding on another line.”

“You’ve got two international calls going?  Jesus, Terry.  This is costing you a bloody fortune!  I’ll never hear the end of this from Dino …and neither will you!”

“Actually, the car’s been sitting out front for the last 15 minutes.  I was hoping you’d say ‘Yes’ at the outset, rather than going through all this folderol.  Diana, just get your arse out of the bed and go downstairs.”

“Oohhh …testy aren’t we?  And so early in the day.  I feel sorry for Sooze.  You will not be taking your frustration out on her.  That's an order.”

“Yes, Ma'am; I promise I will not impose my ill-humour on Sooze.  Are you up and moving?”

“I’m up and moving.  Would you like a reverse striptease?”  Sure, Love; tell me what it is that I’m going to be getting you out of in half-an-hour.

“I can stand the frustration if you can.  But do it slowly, not like you normally get dressed.  And tell me everything you put on.”  Much more of this, and Le Meridien be damned.  I’d be kicking open the door to her room and tossing her straight onto the bed.  If I cajole her out the door, we’ll be going straight back upstairs else, with my luck, we’ll be caught in one of Cairo’s infamous traffic jams, and we'll have an embarrassing international incident in the car.

“OK.  I’m on the side of the bed, wearing my t-shirt and knickers.  The t-shirt has to come off so I can put on one of your singlets and then the frigging Kevlar.  How am I doing so far?”

“A bit fast, but it wouldn’t be you otherwise.  Keep going.”

“So you want a sensuous description of how the Velcro on the Kevlar goes around me?  You know I don’t do sensuous well.”

“Perhaps you don’t speak sensuous well; you do it amazingly, unbelievably, appallingly well.”  I was leaning on the car and realised I’d have to move the fucker.  I’d never make it back to Le Meridien; tonight, we’d be staying right here.  I walked to the valet parking attendant, put my thumb over the microphone on the cell, and tossed him the keys telling him to move the car once I’d gone inside.  Back to the car.  She’d apparently heard my voice though not what I was saying.

“Terry?  Are you talking to someone?  If you’re not paying attention, there’s no point in me doing this.”

“I am paying attention.  I just needed to rearrange a few details.”  Right.  Needed to rearrange my dick.  “What are you putting on now?”

“While you were making your ‘arrangements,’ I got the straps on the Kevlar smoothed down.  I’m pulling on my old navy cargo pants – the ones with the drawstring waist - and that blue silk shirt you like so much.” 

“Hold on a tic …I need to rearrange my ‘details’ again.”  That got me a laugh.

“I’m slipping my feet into my sandals.  And while you attend to your ‘details’, I’ve got my keys and am walking out the door.  You have about five seconds to finish off.”

“Yeah, Love.  Best ring off now.  I’ll talk to you later.”  I disconnected and immediately called the hotel desk. 

“Cairo Hilton.”

“Yeah, Mate.  There’s a lady getting off the lifts in a tic.  She'll be wearing dark blue pants and a blue silk shirt.  Put this call through to one of the house phones close to the front door.  As soon as you spot her, page her to the desk, tell her she has a call, and direct her to the phone – it has to be a phone where she can see out the front door.  I’m her husband, and she doesn’t know I’m here …want to surprise her.  Her name is Diana Walker.”

“Of course, Mr. Walker.  Please hold.”  I smiled – Mr. Walker.  This was working a treat.

DIANA

I’d no sooner stepped off the elevator than a bellman walked up to me.

“Are you Mrs. Walker?”  Mrs.  Well, all right.  I suppose that’s as close as these guys can get to Ms.

“Yes, why?”

“You’ve just had a call come in, and there was no answer in your room.  We’ve routed the call to this line.”  He walked me across the lobby to the bank of phones just inside the door.

“Diana Walker.”

“Our call got cut short.”

“I knew you weren’t finished.  I never heard your little last grunt.”

“Be nice; we’re on a public line here.  You know my grunts aren’t little.”

“I gather the grunt came while I was in the elevator, and I missed it.  I suppose you have specific instructions as to which of the hotel’s restaurants I’m supposed to ‘dine’ in tonight.”

“That car is still out front.  Driver knows where to take you.”

“Terry ….”

“Come on, Love.  Play into my fantasy.  Hang up the phone and walk out front.  There’s a black Merc waiting for you.  Bloke will be standing by the car.”

“I’ve already played into your fantasy.  Besides, this is Cairo, and there are probably 20 black Mercs out front of the hotel waiting for someone.” 

“The driver will recognise you.”

“But I won’t recognize him.  Aren’t you the one who drilled into me before I left home that I had to be careful?”

“Diana, look out the bloody door.” 

TERRY

I leant back against the car and watched her turn.  Her mouth fell open, and she dropped the phone before running out the door and into my arms, knocking me back into the car.  I hit the door handle with my arse …going to have a bruise tomorrow, but I don’t give a flying fuck because she’s in my arms.  Her toes were even with my heels, her legs between mine.  I could feel the heat radiating off her as her body pressed into me.  I can’t feel the softness of her breasts because of the Kevlar, but at least she's wearing it.  My legs closed round hers, pulling her closer as I kissed her.  She spoke first.  “You wonderful bastard!”

“Surprised?”

“Ya think?  What the hell are you doing here?”

“We’re the negotiators on the Forsythe case.  Reags and Max are at Le Meridien.  Don’t plan on seeing them tonight.” 

At that moment, I heard hoots and catcalls from a group of obviously American women.  “Dee!  You’ve been holding out on us!” 

She turned about, looking for the speaker.  “Oh, crap.”

“Someone you know?”

“That’s the group who asked me to have dinner with them.”  I put my arm round her shoulders, and we walked toward them.

“Good evening, Ladies.  I’m the ‘gentleman friend.’  Just flew in on a bit of business.  She wasn’t expecting me.” 

The women laughed before the ringleader spoke.  “Well, then, you’re not interested in hanging out with us, now are you?  You two have a fun evening.”  

We followed them inside and walked round them to the lifts.  The bellman who had taken Diana to the phone was standing there with one of the doors open.  He smiled as he bowed us inside.  The group of women tried to follow, but he stopped them.

“Sorry, Ladies.  The lift is full.”  The door closed in their faces.  I’ll have to leave a generous tip for him on my way out in the morning.  Diana moved back into my arms and looked up at me.

“God, you smell good.  I want to look at you for a while.”  I was already unbuttoning her blouse. 

“Best make it quick.”  We made it to the room and got the door closed …barely.

VERONICA

This house is nasty, and it smells.  They’re keeping me blindfolded.  I heard them arguing about that …they don’t know I speak Arabic, and that’s good.  At least I understand some of what they’re saying.  They want money for me.  A lot of money.  I guess Daddy will have to call Grampa to get it.  Maybe that will get them talking to each other again. 

REAGAN

We got lucky three days later.  We were back at the school, interviewing children one by one and growing more and more frustrated.  The underlying rule of any investigation is that someone saw something, even though they may not realise it.  At this point, our job was jogging memories.  I was working with a ten-year-old when Terry opened the door unannounced and walked into the room.  I looked up, annoyance plain on my face, and he ignored it.  I’d had the ‘Session in Progress’ sign on the door, and in my profession, you never interrupt a session unless someone is dying.  Realistically, I couldn’t expect Terry to know that – I’d certainly never mentioned it – but I was annoyed nonetheless.  The brook-no-disagreement tone in his voice got my attention immediately.

“You'll want to finish talking to this young lady later.  Right now you need to come with me.”  I nodded, the sudden rush of adrenaline making the headache I had developed recede.  I told the child she could return to her class, and we’d finish our chat later.  She skipped happily off; I watched her until she entered her classroom then turned to Terry.

“What’s up?”

“I’m with a 17-year-old boy.  He’s on the school’s soccer team and clearly recalls seeing a bloke matching the description given us by Wills round the school on and off for the last three months.  I’ve got him with the FBI’s sketch artist working up a composite.”  I took off at a trot for the room where Terry had been working as he sprinted to catch me.  Stopping outside the door, he spoke again.  “Kid’s name is Benjamin – Ben – Jamison, and he’s bright, Reags, very bright.”  We may have just hit the mother lode.  Ben was sitting beside the forensic artist – sketchpad in front of her - when we walked in the door.

*

“His eyes are more close-set than that, and his forehead is a little deeper.”  I looked at Terry and raised my eyebrow.  He smiled.

“Beverly, Ben, let me introduce my colleague, Dr. Reagan Kavanagh.”  Beverly nodded as Ben stood, extending his hand as I took it.  Firm grip, and I smiled as I looked at him.  This kid was going to be one Hell of a specimen when he fully matured.  He was already as tall as Terry, and his shoulders were broad.  He was well muscled, an obvious fact as he was in soccer shorts and a footy shirt; his dark auburn hair was deliberately mussed in the casual style popular with today’s adolescents, and his green eyes were clear and bright.  If I were 20 years younger, I’d have been setting my cap for young Benjamin Jamison.

“Nice to meet you, Dr. Kavanagh.”

“Same here, Ben.  Get back to work with Beverly; Mr. Thorne and I just want to look over your shoulders.”  He smiled and sat, going back to work.

“Yeah, that’s better.  Fuller lips, but his mouth is small.  Scruffy beard, like he hadn’t shaved for a few days.  Don’t forget the sunglasses.  Yeah, that’s it.”

My heart jumped into my throat.  He’d pulled from memory the features of a face I recognized from my days at the Bureau.  I looked at Terry, then at Beverly.

“Run that through Biometrics.”  She nodded as I turned back to Ben.  “Ben, would you mind coming with me?  I have a few questions for you.”

“No problem, Doctor.  You’re getting me out of English …not my favourite subject.”

“What is your favourite class?”  I had a pretty good idea, but asked anyway.

“Actually there are two, and I can’t choose between them …Anthropology and Anatomical Biology.  I’m planning on majoring in forensic anthropology when I start college in the fall.”  No big surprise there; this kid obviously had the eye for detail needed in that field.

“Where are you planning on going to university?”

“I’ve been accepted at the University of Montana at Missoula.  They have an undergrad program in anthropology with a forensics option.  I can go straight into their graduate forensics program after graduation, assuming I have the grades.  They’re pretty rigid.”

“What’s your GPA?”  He grinned.

“Four-point-oh.”  I grinned back.

“Ben, I think you have a shot.  Could I make a suggestion?”

“Absolutely.” 

“Pull a double major …Forensic Anthropology and Criminal Justice because unless I’m mistaken, you plan on going into some branch of law enforcement.”  I got that grin again.  But for the difference in gender and his preference of anthropology to psychology, I was looking at myself 20 years earlier.

“Sounds like a plan to me.  And yes, Ma’am.  I’d like to eventually get on with the FBI at Quantico.”

“Let me know if you need a reference.”

“I will!”  We laughed as we entered the room I was using for interviews, and I put the in-session sign back on the door.  Half-an-hour later Beverly knocked and walked inside.

“Found him.  It’s a match.”  I stood and looked at Ben.

I looked at Beverly and shook my head slowly in amazement. 

“Is this the guy you saw, Ben?”  He nodded.

“That’s him.  He looks younger in the picture than what I remember, but that’s the guy I saw.”

“Ben, you’ve been more help than you know.  Why don’t you head back to class?  I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, Ma’am.  Glad I could help.”  He wasn’t half as glad as I was.  I turned back to Beverly as she asked the question.

“Do you know who he is, or do I need to tell you?”

“I know him.  Put a 24-hour guard on that kid.  Right now, he’s our prime witness.  I don’t want anything more serious than a sneeze to happen to him.”

“Got it.”  I took off to find Maximus and Terry.

*

“This guy look familiar to either of you?”  Terry’s eyes widened a bit, and Maximus got a grim smile on his face.  Oh yeah, they knew precisely who they were seeing.  Terry spoke first.

“So this is where he ended up after escaping from Metropolitan Remand.  How in bloody hell did he manage to get out of the country?  Had to have got out by private boat because the airports, docks, and all ports of entry and exit were watched.  Most of us figured he’d made it to the Outback and died there.”  Maximus answered. 

“It would appear not.”

Malek Khalid al-Ramzi.  He’d been captured in Sydney after blowing up the front half of a supermarket and killing a dozen people in the process.  He was a terrorist, but this was the first time he’d been linked with children.  He couldn’t be acting alone, that much was certain, because whilst he was very effective with explosives, he wasn’t all that bright aside from his technical expertise.  However, with his identity, we now had a place to begin.

VERONICA

Malek …the name of one of them is Malek.

DIANA

I looked up at the tap on the open door of my office to find one Terry Thorne leaning against the doorjamb. 

“I came to take you to lunch.”  He was walking into the office as he spoke and made himself comfortable, sitting in one of the chairs across the desk from me.  To hear the talk, he’d pretty well made himself comfortable around the Embassy with his easy Aussie charm. 

“Sorry, can’t make it.  I’m up to my ears right now.  I’m functioning as personnel director in addition to my assigned job.  Why don't you close the door?  They might as well wonder what we’re up to in here; it will give them something to talk about other than Veronica Forsythe.”  He did and perched on my side of the desk, leaning over to kiss me.  “So far my cover hasn’t been blown, but working as personnel director – which is a full time job – as well doing my research is killing me.  On top of that, I have to keep track of where everyone on the team is and what they’re doing so – essentially – I have three full time jobs in progress.  Oh, yeah.  And there’s also this devilishly, handsome bloke who’s started taking up all my time at night.  Of course, that last isn’t a job – it's pure delight.  Unfortunately, the first three functions don’t allow me time for lunch out of the office.” 

“Okay, so I’ll do take away and bring it to you.”  He nodded toward the open file in front of me.  “Are you looking for anything specific?”

“Take away is fine, as long as you don’t object to sitting over there and looking at the top of my head while I look at our third-country nationals.  I’m looking for anything that seems unusual, anything hinky; I'm waiting for that instinct and intuition based on years of dealing with sneaky employees to kick in.”  I motioned him back to the chairs on the other side of my desk.  I doubt he saw the motion as it was a fluttery thing behind his back as he turned while I kept talking.  “I’ve isolated that the money leak has to be coming from that group, so we’re looking at everyone who appears in the least way odd.”

“Define odd.” 

“An example would be that their address is in a part of the city that wouldn’t be supported by their salary here.  That’s as far as I can get with personnel files.  Some personnel documents ask about type of vehicle driven, or how you intend to get to and from work.  If I saw one of the kitchen staff driving a Bentley, I’d be suspicious, but that’s the extreme end of the continuum.  It would be more unusual seeing a cook driving a car rather than using public transportation; if I saw that, I’d want to look at pay scales, because if a cook can afford a car, we’re obviously paying too much.”  He nodded.

“At least you don’t have the herd to manage as well.”  I was grateful for that and blessed Nancy again.  “This is the first time we’ve both been working at the same time.  I’m not sure what I’d envisioned that as being, but whatever that was, this isn’t it.”  I closed the file folder that was on the desk in front of me. 

“We may be working in the same city, Terry, but right now the name of the town isn’t relevant.  It could be Dallas or anywhere in the world.  I can’t guarantee that I can turn off this level of intensity.  I haven't had to juggle a relationship and work in a long time.”

“I reckon I can understand that better than anyone.  It’s just that it’s different looking at it from the outside as opposed to being inside the reality.”

“And I’ve never seen you really in work mode.  By the time you get home, you’ve had the commute to get unwound from your day.”

“I’m getting better about leaving work at the office, but in Dallas I’m running a business.  Here – in Cairo – I’m on the job full time, 24/7, as are you.  There’s a significant qualitative difference in overseeing the operation of a business with well established policies and procedures and working full time.”  He hit the nail on the head with that observation.

“Terry, I appreciate your thinking of me and lunch, but you don’t need me as a focus just now.  I know this one is Maximus’ gig, but you still need to direct your energies to the job, to Veronica Forsythe’s recovery.”

He took a deep breath and continued.  “Pursuant to that little chat we all had last night, Reags and I are leaving for Amman tomorrow morning, so I’ll probably be gone for a week or so.”

“Then you need to get out of here so that I stand a halfway decent chance of getting to Le Meridien by seven.  And you don’t have to sneak out of here.  Everyone and their brother knows you spent that night with me at the Hilton when you first arrived.  We were busted the minute Marie saw us in front of the hotel.”

“Good.  Then whilst I’m gone, none of the FBI lot will be sniffing round you.”  I laughed.

“Right …like they could get past Maximus!  He’ll be back into protective mode before you and Reags put wheels up.”

“Then give us a kiss, and I’m out.”  He leaned in aiming for my cheek.  I think I surprised him by giving him a more passionate kiss than the quick peck he was expecting. 

He cleared his throat as he straightened.  “I’m so glad you chew your lippy off within half-an-hour of putting it on in the mornings.  But for that, we'd be even more busted.”

REAGAN

The approval from State for our requests to foreign governments for visitation and access to their police files came through the day before Terry’s abortive effort to take Dee to lunch.  Maximus spent the rest of that day on the phone to our embassies in Jordan, Syria, and Saudi Arabia requesting their efforts in expediting visa approvals for Terry and me to all three countries.  I was glad he spoke Arabic, because a man could get approval far more easily than could a woman, even if that woman spoke the native tongue.  By noon the next day, our passports had the necessary visas, and our flight and hotel reservations had been made.  We’d be at the Geneva Hotel in Amman.  I’d wanted to stay at the old Philadelphia Hotel, but it was no longer in existence; a car park for tourists visiting the old Roman amphitheatre the hotel had once overlooked had taken its place.  Terry and I had a chat on the flight from Cairo to Amman about the feasibility of staying at Le Meridien on our return to Cairo.

“Terry, it just isn’t smart to stay there much longer.  Maximus is all but living at the Forsythe house and will be until the first contact comes in, and he can establish a schedule.  I promise you we can rent a villa for the short-term for a Hell of a lot less than what Le Meridien is costing.”  He nodded.

“I know, Love, but to date, we’ve not had the time to get out and look for a villa.  Max and I’ve been tied up, and you’ve been up to your ears in interviews; Diana is trying to do three jobs.  Once we’re done with this little jaunt, you’re going to be working on the profile.”

“Once I’ve been to the crime scenes and gone through the police records, the profile will be ready within a day, subject to modifications once contact has been made.  I’ll try to be present for the scheduled contacts, but aside from that, my time will be much more open than it is now.  Is Dee planning to stay here once her assignment is finished?”

“We’ve discussed it, and once she returns to the States for her debrief, she’ll do a turnaround flight and come back.  So, yes, she’ll be here.”  I grinned.  That would make Terry a lot easier to get along with over the next however long period of time we were here.

“Good.  The two of us can get out and find a villa; I hate villa-shopping alone.  With both of us looking, it shouldn’t take too long to locate something suitable and get out of the hotel.” 

We were in Amman and checked into our room at the Geneva by four that afternoon.  Yes, I said our room.  We’d held a ‘team’ conference, including Dee, and decided it was safest for all concerned, i.e., Maximus and Terry decided it would be safest for me, if Terry and I shared a room.  So, two double beds it was, and the locals would just have to deal with a pair of perceived adulterous Westerners.  We were up at five the next morning, breakfasted in the dining room, and were in the office of Jordan’s Chief of Intelligence Service at eight sharp.  Major General Mohammed al-Tamimi was formerly one of Jordan’s top terrorism officials, having served with the General Intelligence Department for more than 20 years and had been appointed to his current position by the Jordanian cabinet following the former chief’s stepping down after terrorist attacks on three Jordanian hotels the previous year. 

The general was more than gracious and very willing to assist us in whatever manner he could.  He considered kidnapping to be as much a terrorist activity as bombing hotels or embassies, and was very interested in our position on profiling.  He had copies of the complete files on the two children murdered in Jordan ready for us and gave us those along with the original files, in order that we might compare them to assure ourselves nothing had been left out or redacted and deleted.  He had also cleared his schedule so that he might personally accompany us to the crime scenes in the event local authorities tried to challenge our presence there.  General al-Tamimi had contacted the children’s families and arranged for us to meet with them to see if we could elicit any information not obtained by the local police.  During my tour in the Middle East, I had been impressed with both the people of Amman and the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan in general but had never been in a position to interact with their authorities; I was more than favourably impressed with their willingness to work with perceived representatives of a foreign government.  The difficult bit was going to be convincing the people living on the streets from which the children were abducted to allow us to enter their back gardens and access their roofs looking for vantage points that may have been utilised by the kidnappers.  Middle Easterners are by nature suspicious of many non-Arabic nationals; Terry and I had to gain their trust and do it quickly. 

We knew the first child was abducted at some point between getting off the school bus at the corner of her street and her house halfway down the block.  Her schoolmates said she got off the bus that day and walked down the street, waving back at them as the bus turned the corner.  She never reached her home.  When she was ten minutes late arriving, her mother went looking for her and found her book bag on the sidewalk.  There was no other sign of her.  She called the police first and then called her husband at his office.  There had been a phone call the following morning telling the father to bring five million Jordanian Dinars in a bag to the old Roman amphitheatre at six that night.  He was to wait for a man to come and give him his child in exchange for the money.  No man with a child ever appeared; her body was found ten days later, beside the road leading from the centre of the city to Queen Alia International Airport.  She had been tortured, raped, and strangled.  Her name was Aiesha; she was nine-years-old at the time of her death.

Aiesha’s parents opened their doors and hearts to us, thanking Allah that someone was still interested in finding the man or men who murdered their daughter.  They called their neighbours to ask for their cooperation, and more doors opened.  Terry and I combed through private gardens and stood on rooftops looking all round to check vantage points for someone watching the child.  We narrowed our focus to two houses, both of which had a clear view of the corner where the child got off her bus and the street leading to her house.  In letting the neighbours know why we needed access to their homes, we explained that it was very likely that Aiesha’s abductors had stolen into their gardens and onto their roofs on numerous occasions before finalizing their plan to take the child.  They were horrified, feeling at least partly responsible for the child’s fate.  We made a strong point of telling them that we did not feel they were in anyway implicated, and should feel no burden of guilt aside from mourning the loss of a beloved child.  The vantage points offered by their homes were simply a means to an end. 

We took countless photographs from both houses and then visited the dump site on Queen Alia Highway where Aisha’s body had been found.  It is common throughout the Middle East for airport roads to be a series of military checkpoints, funneling all vehicles into one lane for examination prior to allowing them access to the airports, and those checkpoints are manned 24 hours a day.  Someone had to have seen something, as the location of the child’s body was less than 100 yards from one of the multiple checkpoints; how the driver got through the ones he did is unknowable.  We got rosters of the soldiers on duty for the period surrounding the last 24 hours prior to finding Aiesha’s body and began bringing in the soldiers to interview. 

One soldier – a 22-year-old Army corporal – recalled having seen a dark-coloured sedan – possibly a Toyota - stop beside the road several hours before dawn.  Aiesha’s body had been found shortly after sunrise, and the time frame fit.  The driver had exited the vehicle and opened the boot, taking something from it and tossing it off the road.  The corporal recalled that the ‘something’ was a bundle, and he assumed it to be trash, as dumping along roadsides is fairly common in the Middle East.  He hadn’t investigated but did note the licence plate as the car drove past him and away.  The plates were Syrian – bright red and thus distinguishable from most other countries in the region - and the first three letters were 529.  General al-Tamimi was with us and instructed one of his aides to begin running Syrian plates for a match to those numbers and Toyota sedans.  It was a place to start.  Two hours later, we were advised that the closest match was a dark maroon Mitsubishi sedan with plate number 529Z33GX …and the car had been stolen two weeks prior to the date Aiesha’s body was found.  So much for starting points.

From Amman we went to Damascus and set up shop in the Al Patra Hotel, repeating the process we had initiated in Amman.  General al-Tamimi had put us in touch with his counterpart in Syria, Minister of Defence Tawfiq al-Hamzi.  Though not as cordial as General al-Tamimi, al-Hamzi did provide us with records of the two children of interest and facilitated our interviews with their families and known associates.  From there we went to Saudi Arabia, to Riyadh, where I had lived and worked, and truly felt comfortable and at home.

When we left the Al Khozama Hotel the first morning, Terry was grinning at me.  I’d spent ten minutes in front of the mirror arranging and rearranging my headscarf until my hair was covered completely as befits a decent woman – and by decent, I mean a woman who is not a prostitute –going out in public.  I looked at him as we exited the hotel and entered the cab called for us by the concierge.

“Not one word, Terry.  This is my playground, and I’m on thin ice without an abayah; my suit will have to do.”  He nodded and stuffed his grin into his pocket. 

We had a nine o’clock appointment with HRH, Prince Naif bin Abdul Aziz.  We were early in arriving at his office and at nine-thirty were admitted to his majlais.  At ten to noon, Terry looked at his watch and raised an eyebrow at me; I shook my head, effectively telling him to be patient.  At 12:23, the Prince’s administrator nodded to us, and we were escorted into Prince Naif’s private office for an audience.  He nodded as we entered, and his major domo announced Terry’s name, motioning us to chairs, and we sat.  I kept my head down modestly as Terry and I sat across from the Prince.  He was looking through a file, the cover of which bore the insignia of the Riyadh Criminal Police and then closed it, standing and coming round his desk to sit in a chair close to us.  That was a good sign.  He was removing much of the requisite formality and placing himself on a more equal footing with Terry and me.  His voice was as I remembered it from the many television broadcasts I had watched when I lived in the Kingdom, low and well-modulated, speaking precisely in flawless English.

“I understand you are interested in the death of one of our beloved children …a foul murder and one which remains unsolved in spite of our best efforts.”  I nodded as Terry spoke.

“That is correct, your Highness.  The child of an American diplomat has been abducted in Cairo.  We have been retained by her family to try and recover her before she meets the same fate as the child here.”  He stopped and looked at me; I nodded and he continued.  “Your Highness, I would like to introduce my colleague, Dr. Reagan Kavanagh.  She is a forensic psychologist – what is known as a profiler – and her task is to learn as much as possible about the events surrounding the disappearance and death of the child here as she may, in order to determine the sort of man who would do this to an innocent child.”  The Prince’s reply surprised me.

“I know who Dr. Kavanagh is, and I have the greatest respect for her work.”  He turned to me.  “How do you find the Kingdom since last you were here, Doctor?”  I smiled; he had obviously checked my dossier and knew I had been stationed in the Kingdom.

“It has changed in appearance, your Highness …many new buildings, but your people are as warm and cordial as when I lived here.  It is a pleasure to return, though I wish the circumstances were different.  I have missed the Kingdom; I have many treasured memories of my time here.”  Every word I spoke was true; I love Saudi Arabia and her people and have often wished to return for a visit.  What he did next amazed me.  He turned to the cardholder on his desk, removed a card, and turned it over, writing on the back before handing it to me.

“My private e-mail is on the back – guard it well – but should you ever wish to return to the Kingdom for a visit, if you will advise me of your desire, I will insure a visa for you.”  My fingers trembled as I took the card; this was an honour unprecedented in my experience.  I struggled to keep the emotion from my voice when I spoke.

“You do me a great honour, your Highness.  I accept your offer with the respect it is due.”  I tucked the card into my pocket and turned back to Terry, silently signaling him to continue.

“Your Highness, if you will permit us copies of the documents on this child it would greatly assist our efforts.  We also request your assistance in allowing us to speak with the police who investigated this crime, as well as the child’s family and friends.  Whilst I am sure there were no errors made in the process of the investigation, Dr. Kavanagh has expertise that would enable her to perceive patterns common to the abduction of this child and others in Jordan and Syria who have met the same fate.  It is our mission to track down the man – or men – who perpetrate these crimes and bring them to justice.”  The Prince nodded again, stood, and returned to his desk. 

“Mr. Thorne, the people of Saudi Arabia sincerely wish these animals be apprehended and as quickly as possible.  I have already spoken to the Chief of Police – he is waiting for you in the anteroom – and he will cooperate fully.  My secretary has contacted the family of this child, and they will see you at your convenience.  You will be provided with translators to facilitate your work.  Should you have any difficulty, feel free to contact me.”  He handed Terry the file from his desk and one of his cards and smiled, extending his hand to Terry and then to me.  The interview was over.  We thanked him for his assistance and left through the anteroom where the police chief joined us.  Our next stop was Police Headquarters to speak with the officers who had investigated the child’s disappearance and murder.  Four days later, we were back in Cairo.

“It only took me a few days to get used to the weekends here being Thursday and Friday.”  I yawned, and Terry stuck his finger in my mouth.  I looked at him as though he was just a tad loony. 

“I had absolutely no ulterior motive for doing that …impulse overtook me, and it seemed funny.”

“It was …well, loony anyway.”

“Your yawns and stretches are fascinating.  I’ve never known anyone who enjoyed either as much as you do.”  He was getting me off track so I moved him back to my original trend of thought and continued.

“The first Thursday I was here, I had to hustle downstairs, and I thought I’d missed the bus.  I walked over to the Embassy.”

“You did WHAT?”

“I walked to the Embassy.”  I knew I shouldn’t have said that.  His response just shot the hell out of a very funny story, and I should have known he’d react this way.  Even though it had happened a month ago, he was worried.  His stony silence right now made me regret my words even more.  “You would prefer I had taken a cab with one of what I thought then were crazy Egyptian drivers and have now come to know are crazy Pakistani drivers?  That would have been just like New York City, and that would have been even worse.  I was wearing my vest.”

“Maybe getting you that vest wasn’t such a good idea …now you think you’re bloody invincible …ten feet tall and bullet-proof.”  That was muttered half below his breath.  I think I’ll just choose to ignore that comment. 

“Anyway, I came careening into the Embassy, and there was almost no one there.  I got a lot done that day.  The same thing happened on Friday.”  He interrupted me.

“Wait, wait, back up there, Cisco.”

“Oh, I had such a childhood crush on Duncan Reynaldo!”

“I didn’t need to hear that.  How did you get back to the hotel Thursday night?”

“Well, I’d gotten everything done I needed to and it was still daylight, so I walked back to the hotel.”  That got me a resigned headshake and a muttered response.

“Jesus.  God truly does watch out for fools and children.”

“Are you implying that I’m in a state of developmental delay and mentally defective in the bargain?”

“Just go on.”

“The first two weeks I was here, I saw nothing of Cairo other than the park.  You should be proud of me!  I didn’t walk through the park, I walked on the sidewalk beside it.  On Saturday, I slept in until the phone rang at nine, and it was the Gunny from the Embassy wanting to know if I was all right.  That was when I found out that Thursday and Friday are the weekend here, and the work week runs Saturday through Wednesday.”  I was lying with my hands folded across his naked chest, and my head propped on them, looking at him.

“It was after the walk home on Friday night that I decided I wouldn’t do that again.”  I raised up to show him my belly.  “See?  I still have the chafe marks from the Kevlar …did you know that when you sweat, it chafes, even if you’re wearing a singlet between the armor and your body?”  I rubbed the still visible red marks.  “Do you think it’s going to leave a scar?  It should have faded by now.”  His deadpan response was predictable.

“Yes, Diana, I did know that.” 

Oh, well, yes ….  “Yeah, I suppose you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Did you not think to ask Reags if she could give you a few cultural hints before you came over here?”

“No …we stay too busy making fun of you and Maximus.”

“Thanks very much.  And just what embarrassing things might you be discussing about Maxie and me?”

“Well, for starters, the Arrow.  You don’t want to know the rest.  But be assured, you two give us endless amounts of amusement, even when you aren't around.  Besides, I could get thrown out of the Secret Women’s Union if I told you any more.”  I looked up at him.  “It’s your morning to make the coffee.  What time is it?  Be sure and put your shorts on before you make the coffee, because Reags could be here at any time.  You know what an early riser she is.” 

He groaned.  “I am more than well aware of that.  Every bloody morning of the trip, she was up at oh-four-thirty, lights on, making coffee and telling me to get up as she traipsed off to the shower.”

I really don’t want to ask this …I really do not want to ask this, but I can’t help myself.  How do I phrase it so that it sounds funny, and I don’t sound scared?  “Well, now that you’ve shared a room with another woman, do you now have more appreciation for my charm and loveliness?”  His back stiffened a bit as he poured the water into the coffee maker.  Oh, shit, now I’m going to have to kill my best friend and my bloke because something did happen.  Let’s see now …if I kill them in Egypt, do I have to deal with being stoned, or is that just in Saudi Arabia?  I knew I should have said something when we had that conversation about their sharing a room and how much I disliked that idea, but I didn’t.  I looked up to see him walking back to the bed – still with no shorts.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t say anything when I had the chance, and I have no right to question it now.”

“There’s nothing to question.  We shared a room, Diana, not a bed.  And even if we’d been in the same bed, nothing would have happened.  That was the first time I’ve slept in pajamas in years.  It’s only because of learning how stupid the horses can be that I keep pants beside the bed when we’re at home.”

“I’m sorry, Terry.  I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Are we done with it then?”  I nodded. 

I was done with it but reminded him again.  “You do need to get your shorts on because I need to get showered before Reags gets here.  You'll have to get the door.”

TERRY

She didn’t move a muscle, yet I could see her give herself a mental shake.  I could almost hear her say ‘Cut that shit out’ to herself.  We’re so alike in so many ways – two steps forward and one back.  Why did I bring up Reags' infernal morning chirpiness and sharing a hotel room with her?  What in bloody hell prompted me to do that?  Because I needed to bitch about her chirpiness and early rising to someone, and Diana had shared hotel rooms with Reags in the past; she of all people would understand.  More importantly, Diana is my safe haven when I want to whinge about something.  She was getting out of the bed, and I walked back to her before she got to the bathroom, stopping her, and put my hand under her chin raising her face to mine.

“Diana, I told you about that because I needed to whinge about Reags bloody early morning happy dance to someone who would understand, and you do.  More than that, you are my safe place to whinge, to cry, to say the things I won’t say – can’t say - to another living soul.  You are my safe place.”  The reason I said what I did was that she’d already given herself that mental shake and was ready to hear my words now, without taking them wrong.  She grinned up at me.

“OK …well, that means I don’t have to kill you and Reags right now, do I?”  I swatted her on the arse, and she hopped away from me and into the bathroom.  I was pulling on my running shorts when I heard the knock on the door.  Just to be sure that no one got the wrong idea, I tossed the shorts back on the bed and pulled on a pair of sweats and a singlet before opening the door.

*

Reags hugged me and backed up.

“Well, I can tell you haven’t had a shower yet …you’re still sweaty.”  So much for social niceties; I’d hugged her with the sweat from making love with Diana all over me.  She took another step back, surveyed my lack of sartorial splendour, and continued talking just as Diana opened the bathroom door.  I love Reags like a sister, but sometimes I wish she’d shut the fuck up.  It got worse.  “And you’re underdressed compared to the last time I saw you this early in the morning; what happened to the jammies?”  Diana laughed as she heard that, and I turned to pick up her Kevlar and passed it through the door before turning back to Reags.

“Got your Kevlar on, Love?”  Diana was still peeking round the door and cackled when Reags jerked up her loose fitting shirt to show me the vest and singlet underneath.

“Jesus, Terry.  Maximus wouldn’t let me out of our room until he was sure I was wearing it and now you!  I’ve done this gig before …give me a bit of fucking credit.”  Diana was still laughing when she closed the door.

I had poured coffee for Reags and picked up a cup for Diana, taking mine with me and popped into the bathroom.  She was still drying off so I put our coffees on the counter and went back to get her underwear.  I looked at Reags as I dug through the dresser drawer.

“Let me sort out the one in the bathroom then I’ll tend to you.  You know I was awake early enough to have done this already, but ….”

“TMI, Terry.  Get Dee in gear and shut up.  Oh, don't take too long.”  We laughed as I walked back into the bathroom. 

REAGAN

We were walking across the Le Meridien lobby when Dee spoke.

“Terry said that until I get off assignment, he’d like any place we rent to be very short-term and as close to the Hilton as possible.  After that, he doesn’t care because anywhere I am 'is home to him.’  Now, isn’t that just too precious for words?”  Her words and tone were less sarcastic than they appear.  There was a note of wonder in her voice.  I made a sticking my finger down my throat motion and pantomimed gagging before I laughed.  She continued.  “Realistically, Terry’s short-term requirements are a nit because I’ll be finished up here within a couple of weeks.  I find the leads for team members, and the pros can track them down after I leave.  I’m just along for the ride with you guys after that.”

“Max will be happy simply not to have to keep his clothes all folded and in his suitcase any more because there isn’t enough closet and bureau space at the hotel.  I, on the other hand, have higher standards.  I want room to breathe!”  We had reached the car and climbed inside, and I introduced her to the agent, a lovely Swedish woman of about our same age.

“Dee, this is Birgit Svenson.  Birgit, Dee Walker.”  They shook hands over the seat, and off we went.

*

We were pulling up to the fourth villa, having rejected the first three out of hand.  The first one had the bedrooms all snugged up to each other, and the second was already occupied …completely overrun with cockroaches.  The third was north of the airport …about 20 miles from our base at the Embassy.  The one we were visiting now was in an older area of the city but looked good from the outside.  Birgit turned in her seat to look back at us before we got out of the car.

“The family who owns this villa is on holiday in Europe until the middle of September when their children return to school.  They are English and bought the villa from the original owner.  The interior is in excellent condition, and you would have use of all amenities.  There is a pool and a spa, and their staff is available and at your disposal, if you wish.”  Dee and I looked at each other.  Spa?  A pool?  Staff at our disposal?  I liked this place already.  We followed Birgit to the locked gate.  Ten-foot high walls surrounded the villa and gardens; we walked across the immaculately manicured front garden and up to the front door.  Solid cedar and six inches thick …bet that would slow down the so-called speeding bullet.  Dee was talking as Birgit put the key in the lock.

“How many on staff, and what sort of background checks have they had?”

“There are three full time staff, a cook, houseboy, and gardener/groundskeeper.  The owners are quite satisfied with their work.”  Dee and I looked at each other …not good enough.  No big deal though, as Terry and Maximus could take care of background checks.

“How far to the closest souq?” 

“Three blocks.  We passed it on the way in.  It’s in that office complex on the corner – the large white building.  There’s also a Safeway two blocks that direction.”  She pointed opposite to the direction we’d driven in.  I nodded.  I could live with that.  “There are a large number of Europeans living in this area, so you shouldn’t look out of place, if that concerns you.” 

We walked through the lounge.  There was a curved staircase leading to the second floor and a solarium was off the main lounge on the right side of the stairs, with the kitchen on the left.  Doors from both the solarium and kitchen opened into the back garden with the pool and spa.  Nice.  By now, Birgit was accustomed to Dee’s and my taking off in opposite directions, and we sprinted up the stairs, heading in the aforementioned opposite directions as we got to the second floor.  I went left, and she went right.  Just as I emerged from what appeared to be the master suite and was about to shout ‘dibs’ on it, I heard Dee’s voice from the far opposite corner of the hallway.

“DIBS ON THIS ONE!”  Oh, goody.  I get the one I want for Maximus and me.  She emerged from the room with a smile on her face as Birgit topped the stairs.  Birgit smiled at us.

“There is no need to fuss regarding the master suite, as there are two of them.”  Well, that made life easy, didn’t it?  I looked at Birgit.

“Could you give us a moment, Birgit?” 

“Of course.  I will wait for you downstairs.”  I looked at Dee.

“I think we’ve just hit the mother lode.”  She nodded before she spoke.

“Does your and Maximus’ room have the glassed in shower with six spigots and the whirlpool?”  I nodded, grinning at her.  “And the bidet?”  Same response.  “Walk in closets?”  I nodded.  “California king bed?”  Yep.  She looked like she was about to have an orgasm when she spoke.

“This is more room than we have at home!”  I didn’t think she realised she’d said ‘we’ and ‘home’ in the same sentence - and in reference to Terry - and I wasn’t about to tell her; it had come out so naturally.  “However, I am afraid of being injured if Terry gets too energetic, and I fall out of that bed …it must be four feet off the ground!”  I cocked an eyebrow at her.

“About a week after he got back from the trip to Latin America, I got bounced out of bed and onto the floor …do NOT ask …it was great until then!”  I had a swift mental motion picture of how that had come to pass, and laughed until I almost cried.  When I stopped, she looked at me again.

“I think this is the one.” 

“I couldn’t agree more.  Maximus and Terry will love it.”  We walked downstairs to give Birgit the good news. 

  Continue on to Veronica - Part Two

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