Honor Among Thieves

“What chemical is it that protects the parchment?” asked Dollar Bill.

“Thymol,” replied the Archivist.

“Of course, I should have guessed. With the President’s allergy problem, I might have expected this reaction. Don’t panic. As long as we get him out in the fresh air as quickly as possible, he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“Thank God for that,” said Marshall, who hadn’t stopped shaking.

“Amen,” said the little Irishman as the actor was helped towards the door.

Marshall quickly rushed to the front and led them back up the stairs, with the Secret Service agents following as close behind as possible.

Cavalli left Lloyd Adams stumbling behind him while he caught up with the Archivist. “No one, I repeat, no one, must hear about this incident,” he said, running by Marshall’s side. “Nothing could be more damaging to the President when he has only been in office for such a short time, especially remembering what Mr. Bush went through after his trip to Japan.”

“After his trip to Japan. Of course, of course.”

“If any of your staff should ask why the President didn’t complete his tour of the building, stick to the line that he was called back to the White House on urgent business.”

“Called back on urgent business. Of course,” said Marshall, who was now whiter than the actor.

Cavalli was relieved to find his earlier orders about no staff being allowed in the lower corridor while the President was in the building still remained in force.

Once they had reached the freight elevator, and all the group was inside, they descende

d to the level of the loading dock. Once the doors opened, Cavalli sprinted ahead of them up the ramp and onto 7th Street.

He was annoyed to find that there was still a small crowd on the far sidewalk, and no sign of the motorcade. He looked anxiously to his right, where Andy was now standing on the bench, pointing towards Pennsylvania Avenue. Cavalli turned to look in the same direction and saw the first motorcycle escort turning right into 7th Street.

He ran back down the ramp to find Lloyd Adams next to a Federal Express pickup box, being propped up by two Secret Service agents.

“Let’s make it snappy,” said Cavalli. “There’s a small crowd out there and they’re beginning to wonder what’s going on.” He turned to face the Archivist, who was standing next to the Conservator on the loading dock.

“Please remember, the President was called back to the White House on urgent business.” They both nodded vigorously as four of the Secret Service agents rushed forward just as the third car, engine running, pulled up to the loading dock at the bottom of the ramp.

Cavalli opened the door of the third limousine and frantically waved the actor in. The lead riders on the motorcycles held up the traffic as the final car came to a halt at the mouth of the delivery entrance. As Lloyd Adams was assisted into the limousine, the small crowd on the other side of the road began pointing and clapping.

One of the Secret Service agents nodded back in the direction of the building. Angelo ran forward and jumped into the second car, still clinging to the sword, while Dollar Bill and the secretary piled into the fourth. By the time Cavalli had joined Angelo in the back of the second car and given the signal to move, the motorcycle escort was already in the middle of 7th Street holding up the traffic to allow the motorcade to proceed towards Constitution Avenue.

As the sirens blared and the limousines began their journey down 7th Street, Cavalli looked back and was relieved to see there was no longer any sign of Marshall or Mendelssohn.

He quickly switched his attention to the east side of 7th Street, where Andy was explaining to the crowd that it had not been the President but simply a rehearsal for a movie, nothing more. Most of the onlookers showed their obvious disappointment and quickly began to disperse.

Then he thought he saw him again.

As Cavalli’s car sped down Constitution Avenue, the lead police car was already turning right into 14th Street, accompanied by two of the outriders. The sirens had been turned off, and the rest of the motorcade peeled off one by one as they reached their allotted intersections.

The first car swung right on 9th Street and right again back onto Pennsylvania Avenue before heading away in the direction of the Capitol. The third continued on down Constitution Avenue, keeping to the center lane, while the fourth turned left onto 12th Street and the sixth right at 13th.

The fifth turned left on 23rd Street, crossing Memorial Bridge and following the signs to Old Town, while the second car turned left at 14th Street and headed towards the Jefferson Memorial and onto the George Washington Memorial Parkway.

Cavalli, who was seated in the back of the second car, dialed the director. When Johnny answered the phone, the only words he heard were, “It’s a wrap.”

Chapter Fifteen

Scott prayed that the Ambassador’s wife would be unable to get away on Thursday, or might still be in Geneva. He remembered Dexter Hutchins saying, “Patience is not a virtue when you work for the CIA, it’s nine-tenths of the job.”

When he stopped at the end of the pool Hannah told him that the Ambassador’s wife hadn’t returned from Switzerland. They didn’t bother to swim another length, and agreed to meet later at the amusement park in the boi de Vincennes.

The moment he saw her walking across the road he wanted to touch her. There were no instructions in any of the CIA handbooks on how to deal with such a situation, and no agent had ever raised the problem with him during the past nine years.