By Order of the President (Presidential Agent 1)

Waters walked to the outer office door. Mrs. Leonard walked behind him. He continued to the corridor, which he took back to his office.

Mrs. Leonard smiled at Mrs. Patricia Davies Wilson and said, “I’ll be with you in just a minute, Mrs. Wilson.”

Then she closed the door and called the chief switchboard operator and told her there would be a call, probably within the next two hours, from a Mr. Peterson in Suriname. It was to be routed to Mr. Waters’s private line first and then to hers, but under no circumstances to the DCI. “He’s got too much on his plate this morning to be bothered with this,” she explained.

Then she went and opened the door to the outer office.

“Would you come in, please, Mrs. Wilson?”

Mrs. Wilson put on a dazzling smile and walked into the office. When she saw that Director Powell was nowhere in sight, she looked at Mrs. Leonard, curiously.

“Why don’t you have a seat, please, Mrs. Wilson?” Mrs. Leonard said, waving at one of the armchairs. She walked to the DCI’s desk and leaned against it.

“The DCI has been called away,” Mrs. Leonard said. “Sorry. He asked me to deal with this for him. Perhaps if you had been able to get here at seven forty-five . . .”

“The traffic was unbelievable!” Mrs. Wilson said. “Perhaps it would be better if I came back when the DCI has time for me.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mary Leonard said. “This won’t take any time at all and I know the DCI wants to get it behind him.”

“What is it?”

“You’ve been reassigned,” Mrs. Leonard said. “You’re going back to Analysis. I don’t know where they’ll put you to work, but somewhere, I’m sure, where you’ll be able to make a genuine contribution to the agency.”

“But I like what I’m doing! I don’t want to go back to Analysis.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Mary Leonard said. “But the decision has been made.”

“I want to hear this from the DCI himself.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question.”

“I’m being relieved of my duties, which, to the best of my knowledge, I have carried out to everyone’s complete satisfaction.”

“That’s not exactly the case, I’m afraid. But I don’t think we want to get into that, do we?”

“I demand an explanation!”

“Can I say you’ve demonstrated a lack of ability to deal with the problems you’ve encountered in the field and let it go at that? I really don’t think you want to open that Pandora’s box, Mrs. Wilson.”

“Well, you think wrong,” Mrs. Wilson said, flatly. “I have the right to appeal any adverse personnel action and I certainly will appeal this one.”

Mary Leonard didn’t say anything.

“This has something to do with what happened in Angola, doesn’t it?” Mrs. Wilson asked.

“Yes, it does.”

“Well, I may have made an error of judgment, but certainly not of a magnitude to justify . . .”

“Your major error in judgment . . . May I speak frankly?”

“Please do.”

“Was in thinking you could lie to the DCI and get away with it.”

“I never lied to the DCI. How dare you!”

“Didn’t you tell the DCI that when you were in Luanda the assistant military attaché, a Major Miller—who was also the station chief—made inappropriate advances to you?”