Windmills of the Gods
Then Angel began to work on the remaining bulbs. After that, there was nothing to do but wait for the phone call.
The telephone rang at eight o’clock that evening. Angel picked up the phone and listened without speaking. After a moment a voice said, “He’s gone.”
The Un ride to the apartment building took seventeen minutes.
There was no doorman in the lobby. The target apartment was on the fifth floor, at the far end of the corridor. The lock was an early model Schlage, childishly simple to manipulate. Angel was inside the dark apartment within seconds.
It was the work of a few minutes to replace six light bulbs in the living room of the apartment. Afterward Angel headed for Dulles Airport to catch a midnight flight back to Buenos Aires.
That night Ben Cohn was killed by a mysterious explosion in his apartment. There was a brief item in the press attributing the accident to a leaky gas stove.
The next day Alfred Shutfleworth was reported missing by his wife. His body was never found.
STANTON Rogers accompanied Mary and the children to Dulles Airport in a State Department limousine.
“I want to thank you, Stan. You’ve been so wonderful,” said Mary.
He smiled. “I can’t tell you how much pleasure It’s given me.”
“I hate to burden you with this, but James Stickley told me that Mike Slade is going to be my deputy chief of mission. Is there any way to change that?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Are you having some kind of problem with Slade?”
“Quite honestly, I don’t like him. Is there someone who could replace him?”
Stanton Rogers said thoughtfully, “I don’t know Mike Slade well, but he has a magnificent record. He’s served brilliantly in posts in the Middle East and Europe. He can give you exactly the kind of expertise you’re going to need.”
She sighed. “That’s what Mr. Stickley said.”
“If you have any problem with him, I want you to let me know. In fact, if you have problems with anyone, I want you to let me know. I intend to make sure that you get every bit of help I can give you.”
“I appreciate that.”
“One last thing. If you have any messages that you want to send to me without anyone else reading them, the code at the top of the message is three x’s. I’ll be the only one to receive that message.”
It was only after she and the children were airborne that the enormity of what was about to happen really struck Mary Ashley. It was so incredible that she had to say it aloud. “We’re on our way to Remania, where I’m going to take up my post as ambassador from the United States.”
Beth was looking at her strangely. “Yes, Mother. We know that.”
I’m going to be the best ambassador they’ve ever seen, Mary thought. Before I’m finished, the United States and Remania are going to be close allies.
The next instant, Mary’s euphoric dreams of-great statesmanship evaporated, giving way to panic. I’m not a real ambassador, she thought. I’m a fake. I’m going to get us into a war. God help us. Dorothy and I should never have left Kansas.
Chapter Seven
OTOPENI Airport, ten miles from the heart of Bucharest, is a modern airport, built to facilitate the flow of travelers from nearby iron curtain countries as well as to take care of the lesser number of Western tourists who visit Remania each year.
Inside the terminal were soldiers in brown uniforms, armed with rifles and pistols, and there was a stark air of coldness about the building that had nothing to do with the frigid temperature. Unconsciously Tim and Beth moved closer to Mary. So they feel it too, she thought.
Two men were approaching. One of them, a slim, athletic man, introduced himself. “Welcome to Remania, Madam Ambassador. I’m jerry Davis, your public affairs consul. This is Tudor Costache, the Remanian chief of protocol.”
“It is a pleasure to have you and your children with us,” Costache said. “Welcome to our country.”
In a way, Mary thought, It’s going to be my country too. “Mulfumesc, domnule,” she said.
“You speak Romanian!” Costache cried. “Cu pldcerel”
Mary hoped the man was not going to get carried away. “A few words, she replied hastily.
Tim said, “Bunddimineata.” And Mary was so proud she could. have burst. She introduced Tim and Beth.
jerry Davis said, “Your limousine is waiting for you, Madain Ambassador. Colonel McKinney is outside.”
There was a long line waiting to go through customs, but Mary and the children were outside the building in a matter of minutes. There were reporters and photographers at the entrance, but instead of the free-forealls that Mary had encountered at home, everything was orderly and controlled. When they had finished, they thanked Mary and departed in a body.
Colonel McKinney, in army uniform, was waiting at the curb. He held out his hand. “Good morning, Madam Ambassador. Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Mike Slade wanted to b ‘ e here, but there was some important business he had to take care of.”
Mary was relieved.
A long black limousine with an American flag on the right front fender pulled up. A cheerful-looking man in a chauffeur’s uniform held the door open.
“This is Florian.”
The chauffeur grinned. “Welcome, Madam Ambassador. Master Tim. Miss Beth. It will be my pleasure to serve you.”
“Thank you,” Mary said.
“Florian will be at your disposal twenty-four hours a day. I thought we would go directly to the residence so you can unpack and relax. Tomorrow morning Florian will take you to the embassy.”