‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Patterson. What horrible stories has my wife been telling you, about me?’ William said as he crossed the room to stand behind Gillian’s chair. As he reached the table, he kissed her on the cheek, and rested his hands on her shoulders, caressing her neck ever so slightly. ‘I promise you none of its true.’
‘I assure you nothing bad has been said, Mr. President. We have been discussing the Gala ball being held next month, in the East Room. I understand it is going to be the most spectacular ever.’ The reporter stated, the smile plastered to her face.
‘Oh, the Gala Ball. Yes, it is going to be wonderful. I think Gillian has already begun working on the decorations. I’m really looking forward to it, the food, the dancing, the guests. After the work that goes on here, it will be nice to relax for a few hours. I look forward to being able to spend time with Gillian socially. Well, semi-socially any way, after all it is a function of office.’ he replied, smiling while he glanced quickly at his watch. ‘Well if you’ll both excuse me, I have a meeting with Ted Randal, in about two minutes. I can’t be late. Well, actually I can be, I’m the President. I can do whatever I want. A perk of the office. There are so few. But I shouldn’t be…’
Gillian cut him off. ‘Will. Go.’ She smiled. ‘Now.’
William leant in close to Gillian and whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Perhaps we’ll BBQ?’ Gillian smiled, knowing too well what her husband had in mind. The staff had code-named the first couple’s alone time BBQ-ing. Many a timeslot in her schedule had been booked by Terry, her husband’s body-man and personal assistant…especially when William was stressed, overworked. She watched her husband leave. He can be really quite charming, when he wants to be, she thought, also thinking how much a BBQ sounded great right now.
‘Now where were we?’ She directed her attention back to Amanda Patterson, the ‘Entertainment Tonight’ reporter opposite her, as William shut the door to the office.
Outside the door William ran into Ted on his way to the Meeting.
‘What’s the latest development, Ted?’ he asked, thinking there was no sense in delaying the inevitable.
‘I’m expecting a call for Director Shaw, any moment now. The main switchboard is patching it through to your office. Shall we?’ Ted motioned towards the closed door they had arrived at. As William opened it, the phone began to ring. Hurrying through, Ted grabbed the phone and pushed the speaker button.
‘Director Shaw, Ted Randal. What’s your news?’
‘Is the President there?’
‘Sure am, Marcus. Any thing we should be concerned about?’ William stated as he crossed the royal blue carpet with the world famous eagle emblem embroidered on it, and slumped down on one of the two pale blue couches in the middle of the room, exhausted. He placed his feet up on the table between the lounges and waited for Marcus to continue.
‘Well, Sir. It appears we had a leak in the building, but that has been taken care of. My agents are close to recovery. I expect results in the next forty-two hours. You have nothing to worry about. Everything is under control.
‘Wonderful,’ Ted commented. ‘You’ll call us with any further developments, right?’
‘Certainly. I’ll let you know when my people check in.’
Ted punched the call cancel button and turned to face William, who had moved from the lounge and was now standing in the corner of the office looking out the window, between the rose bushes. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he rocked slightly back and forwards on his black wing-tips.
‘Do you get the feeling he’s hiding something. That he’s not telling you the whole truth?’ Ted directed at William.
Eyes still focused on something out the window, William replied. ‘Always. There’s something not right about this whole thing. I just hope his people are as competent as he says they are.
CHAPTER 19
The afternoon had passed incredibly slowly. Rick had spent the hours catching up on some well-deserved sleep while Madeline, on the other hand, spent the afternoon on the internet, contacting her sources all over the world. None were able to offer any assistance on recent sales or shipments of Cobalt Blue. So far she had only been able to find out that there was a small nuclear weapon being offered in Beijing and a vile of cyanide in Kuwait. Nothing resembling a shipment of Cobalt had moved in the last two weeks, and it was, in Madeline’s mind highly improbable that the Cobalt had been moved prior to this date. The world’s stores of both Cobalt Blue and it’s radioactive sister toxin Cobalt 60 were highly guarded, as both toxins were extremely noxious, and very unstable when handled the wrong way. After she had contacted the seven science laboratories that stocked the Cobalt Madeline shut down the computer and picked up the mobile phone. She called her secretary.
‘Emily, it’s Madeline. Have you any information for me, regarding the file I sent you?’ After seeing Teslovich, Madeline had sent Emily a file, and a composite drawing of their suspect, hoping her secretary could do some research into Teslovich’s extra-curricular activities.
‘It appears Mr. Teslovich has been in contact with someone on the East coast, over a long period of time, Madeline. Unfortunately the line has been scrambled too much for an exact trace. So that could mean anywhere. Boston, Atlanta, Buffalo, they’re all in the East. Beyond that, I can’t help you.’
‘That’s it? Does Marcus know you tapped into the phone system for me?’
‘No, as difficult as it was, I managed to hide it from him. Very astute is our Director, don’t you think?’
Madeline laughed at Emily’s latest comment. It was always a joke to Emily that Marcus had been appointed Director over Madeline and Rick, and she never failed to point out Marcus’s short-comings to Madeline. It had always been Emily’s aim, in the whole nine years of her appointment as Madeline and Rick’s assistant, to in some way undermine any direct orders from Director Shaw, so breaking anonymously into his phone tapping system was a thrill for the sixty year old woman. It stemmed from the fact that she had once been Marcus’s personal assistant, and that he believed she really didn’t know how to do her job. He had been only too happy to package her into Rick’s promotion. With the job comes the secretary, was how he put it. Madeline was glad, while she found Emily to be recalcitrant, towards Marcus she was an ally and an excellent assistant.
‘Now, now Emily. Director Shaw has a lot of things on his mind…’ Madeline began, only to be interrupted by Emily.
‘Yeah, like wondering if Rick’s managed to keep his hands off of you…’
‘That’s enough. I know what you are trying to do, but it’s not going to work…’
‘I’m saying this as a friend Madeline, you need to loosen up, let your hair down, figuratively speaking, and let that man touch you. It would be good for you, and who knows… maybe you’d enjoy it.’
Madeline smiled slightly, remembering just how much she’d enjoyed it. Not that she’d ever tell Emily that she and Rick were back together. Emily didn’t know that they’d ever been together, no-one other than her family did, as far as she knew and she felt Emily didn’t need to know anything now.
‘So, I guess by that silence you’re hiding something, have you already slept with him, done the dirty, so to speak?’ Emily questioned, her voice teasing Madeline, slightly.
Madeline controlled the urge to laugh at the older woman’s terminology, before she stated smoothly. ‘First chance I got, Emily. I jumped him in the bathroom on the plane. It was a little cramped, but effective none- the- less.’
‘Very funny, Madeline. I didn’t ask you to tease me.’ Emily interrupted.
‘He did. He begged me too, in fact.’
Emily laughed on the other end of the line. ‘Tell me the truth.’
‘Emily, I have to go. Keep me informed if you find anything else. Oh, and don’t forget to feed my fish.’
‘Will do. Oh, and you keep me informed, should you happen to do a body search.’
‘Bye Emily.�
� Madeline laughed. She enjoyed Emily’s company, even if she did have to lie to protect her privacy. Madeline hung up the phone and looked across to where her partner was sleeping soundly, and smiled. She was looking forward to their night out. While they were going to be on surveillance, they were going to be together, sitting in an expensive Italian restaurant, enjoying the whole Venetian social experience. She leant back in the chair and closed her eyes for a moment, wishing that like Rick she could sleep anywhere, anytime.
At ten to six Madeline emerged from the bathroom and presented herself for inspection to Rick, who sat on the couch, looking devastatingly handsome in his black pants, white shirt and black tie. His coat lay folded over the back of the couch, close to where he was seated. Rick looked approvingly at Madeline. Her rich dark mahogany hair hung perfectly. There was not a strand out of place. The light makeup enhanced her features and intensified her natural beauty. And then there was the dress. Rick smiled as he took in the dress. The short black number did nothing but flatter her, as it clung to the soft curves of her body, and fell straight to just below her knee.
‘I was told the dress made the woman,’ he remarked. ‘I beg to differ... the woman definitely makes the dress.’ Madeline smiled warmly at his compliment, and gathered her long black coat from one of the chairs.
‘Shall we?’ she asked as she headed for the door.
‘By all means. We mustn't deny Venice the sight of you.’ Rick stood, grabbing his suit coat he swung it over his head. In one fluid movement his jacket was in place. He adjusted his collar as he exited the room. He winked at her as he caught up with her in the hallway. Taking the coat from off her arm, he slid it gently over her shoulders, and placing a hand on the small of her back, he led her down out of the hotel and along the street, back to the square. Seeing the admiring gazes of the men in the square, Rick pulled her closer. ‘Just remember, you're with me,’ he whispered, teasingly.
Madeline sat in the cafe, enjoying the ambience. A string quartet played themes from popular musicals in the background, in the foreground sat St Marks Cathedral. Lit from all directions the gold tiling shone against the black of the night. The Vaporetti were lit for their nightly passages, and across the square, directly opposite where they sat, was the night club Marcus had pin-pointed as Teslovich's Venice location. It remained completely inactive.
All around them in the crowded cafe sat other diners. Madeline and Rick enjoyed trying to pick which were local Italians, and who were tourists. To Madeline the task was easy, but Rick found deciphering between the two groups slightly more difficult. In Madeline’s opinion the tourists stuck out like a sore thumb. They rarely spoke in Italian, as they believed restaurateurs catering for English tourists should speak English.
Madeline smiled knowing that particularly in Venice, the Italians believed that any tourist travelling through Italy should learn the local language, regardless of original nationality. ‘Tourists should even learn the Venetian dialect’ she remembered hearing one very disgruntled waiter mumble.
Madeline glanced around St Mark’s square once more. To her right sat one of Venice’s art Museums, creating a man-made border on one end of the square. Directly opposite was St Mark’s Cathedral. The restaurant in which they sat was among the many cafes and shops that made up another of the walls around the square. In the night-lights the pillars of the walls glowed, showing to the keen observer their Doric style architecture, as they were more oval shaped, than straight up and down, slightly bulging in the centre. A gentle breeze wafted aromas of coffee and Italian delicacies across the square, and the soft diner music acted as a complement to the whole experience.
After their main course Madeline called the Cameriere and ordered cappuccino and Saviardi, for them both. In the candlelight of the restaurant, Rick thought Madeline was in her element. Conversing lightly with him, and occasionally getting lost in the music, he didn't think she could look lovelier. Madeline looked directly at him, their eyes met. Something shone in hers, it was as if she had read his mind and was responding to the compliment. She reached across the table and placed her hand on his, her fingers teasing the back of his hand. He turned his under hers, and smiled as her nails lightly scratched his palm. Her eyes moved from their entwined hands to his face again. He could have stayed like that forever. Their peace only disturbed once, by the waiter. Rick could have killed that man for his interruption. His presence had snapped Madeline’s gaze from his own eyes to the waiter. As she responded to the waiter’s question, ‘Si, il conto, per favore’ Madeline withdrew her hand, smiling self-consciously as she met his eyes once more... As they waited for the waiter to return with the bill, they finished their coffee.
Slowly the band packed up for the evening and the restaurant emptied, they decided Teslovich was not going to show, so they slowly made their way back to the hotel, along the winding paved streets. They walked hand in hand. In his mind the night could not have been more perfect.
‘You go on up, I'm going to take a walk. I've got some things to sort out...’ Madeline said as they reached the hotel entrance. Rick could tell by her expression that she meant to walk alone. It worried him, the thought of her wandering the canals, by herself, in the dark, but he knew not to press the issue. He had learned long ago, that with Madeline it was better to let her do as she said she would, than try to change her mind. It wasn’t stubbornness that made her to argue her cause, rather sheer determination, strength and motivation. If she said she was going to do something, she’d die trying- and as he liked to joke, she’d kill anyone who stood in her way. In fact sometimes he was surprised he had lived this long.
‘I'll see you soon,’ was all he said. He gently kissed her cheek and squeezed her hand before she turned and walked away. He watched her go. She walked so purposefully and yet so gracefully. He didn't move until she was completely out of sight. ‘Be careful,’ he called into the darkness after her. When he could no longer hear the clicking of her heels on the un-even pavement he entered the hotel and went up to their room.
CHAPTER 20
Madeline heard his call and shook her head. In her mind one of Rick's biggest faults was his misguided notion that she needed to be protected, to be looked after. Nothing, she thought, could be further from the truth. She had been independent and self-sufficient since she was nine years old. Still it was nice to have someone care that much about her. Madeline thought of Rick as she walked. His silver-blonde hair. She smiled. Rick hated the fact that his once blonde hair was going grey. He was only forty-five, and in his mind, far too young to be going grey. She liked it. It gave him a distinguished, debonair look, that when mixed with his unbeatable combination of power and sexuality, made him completely irresistible. As the deputy director of the CIA Rick had control over many agents, and leadership was something he was quite good at. He had a dominant presence, an ability to command fear and respect in appropriate doses, and the ability to motivate those under him. Rick, she thought, also had an incredible talent for getting things, through sheer force of will.
Madeline also thought of his faults. Apart from wanting to protect her, his most considerable weaknesses were his damaging myopia in decision making, which is where she fit in, and a superiority complex. Rick's decisions were guided by her, and while she did not share the title of deputy director, she was his partner and every decision was underlined by her. As for his superiority complex, Rick always wanted, needed to be in control. He loved the power and the importance of maintaining control. It was one of the reasons she had refused to give into him, to admit her feelings to him for so long, that and the fact she liked toying with him…offering power over her and taking it away. Teaching him to be recessive, when he dominated everything else he participated in. He resented Marcus for achieving the status of director. Both Rick and herself knew he could do the job better than Marcus, as Marcus lacked the drive, clarity of vision, confidence and the ability to see the big picture it took to hold a power position. Marcus, too, was far from commanding the respect
, from his agents, he desired. Something Rick and Madeline made up for, as they were highly respected by all facets of the CIA and the government it worked for.
In her head she could envisage Rick's other facial features, his straight nose, his slightly-pointed chin, the scar that passed through his left eyebrow. A scar that you forgot was even there unless it was pointed out. It was as much a part of his face as the rest of his features. As was the scar that marked his chin. A scar she was particularly fond of as it reminded her of Rick’s sometimes extremely reckless decision making, his leaping into action before looking, especially when it involved her. Lastly she imagined his dark brown eyes. The way they looked at her, sometimes made her want to melt. It had been difficult to keep her emotions locked away for all those years, and while she still hadn't completely forgiven him for reducing her to tears, in Florence, she realised it was for the best. He's nearly forgiven, she thought, smiling to herself.
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