by Julie Hyzy
He growled at me, throwing me onto the floor. I landed hard on my seat, crab crawling backward away from him. There was nowhere to go. Nate blocked my way into the kitchen. I could see Hector had Stephanie pinned against the wall, but his large form prevented her from escaping through the open front door.
It was then I realized that neither man had spoken a word. Could it be that they didn’t know I’d recognized them? If that was the case, then we might have a better chance of getting out of this alive. As long as they believed we hadn’t listened to the tape yet.
Hector pulled Stephanie over and sat her down next to me. She covered her face and sobbed into her hands. “Let me go. Let me go. Please.”
“What do you want?” I asked, upping the panic in my voice for effect. It wasn’t difficult.
Nate pointed to my purse, and gestured for me to hand it over. Both the recorder and my cell phone were in there.
I feigned ignorance. “You’re looking for money? I’ll give you money.”
Nate growled at me, pointing to my purse with obvious rage. I continued to pretend to misunderstand.
“Give him the stupid purse,” Stephanie shouted at me.
Nate reached for it, pulling me to my feet to negotiate the strap over my head. I started bellowing for help again, beating at Nate with both hands. I couldn’t give up without a fight.
“Help! Rape! Fire!” It hadn’t worked before, but maybe this time luck would be on my side.
I held tight to my purse, doing my best to wrangle both it, and myself, out of Nate’s grasp. “Let go!” I shouted. “Help!”
He backhanded me across the face, sending me to the floor so hard I bounced. I yelped in pain and in disappointment. He pulled the straps over my head.
Triumphant, Nate handed the purse to Hector, while keeping watch over me, practically daring me to come at him again. Hector upended my bag, dropping my possessions onto the seat of an upholstered chair. He pawed through it quickly, finding the recorder in no time at all.
Nate pointed to my wallet and cell phone, which I knew they’d have to take, too, if they wanted this to truly look like a robbery rather than an ambush.
I wiped at my mouth, my fingers coming away bloody. That slap must have caused a cut inside my mouth. My cheek was stinging hot from where Nate’s hand had connected with it.
He continued to watch me closely while Hector finished his inventory.
I knew I’d probably get only one more shout out before he silenced me completely, but I had to try. “Somebody help us! Help! Thieves!”
Nate spun away. I didn’t know why.
Not until I heard the most wonderful command in the world: “Freeze. Police.”
The two Saardiscans rushed the surprised officer, knocking the gun from his hand as they wrestled him to the floor.
I jumped to my feet, bent on assisting the fallen cop, but at that moment, another officer—the first guy’s backup, I assumed—ran through the open front door. He took a beat to get a read on the scene and, from the expression on his face, I could tell that his first priority was to assist his fallen comrade.
Instinctively, I stepped back, hands up, nearly tripping over Stephanie, who hadn’t moved. She sat there, tears streaking her face, eyes wide, as though she couldn’t believe all this was going on in her little house.
The two officers struggled with Nate and Hector. In what seemed an extended jumble of arms and legs, grunts and anger, they managed to get both Saardiscan men to the floor, and their hands cuffed behind their backs.
The cops had ignored us during the scuffle. Now they both lasered their attention at me. “On the floor,” the second one ordered.
I did what I was told.
The policeman who’d arrived first—his name badge read Lucha—appeared irked to have been saved by his brother in blue. Retrieving his weapon, he made a show of dusting off his uniform.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
I still had my hands up. “Those two men broke in here and attacked us,” I said. “If you’ll let me show you my ID, I think I can help clear this up.”
Perhaps smarting from being caught off guard, he shook his head. “Hang on.”
The other officer had pulled the panty hose from Nate’s and Hector’s faces. When their sweating visages were uncovered, I showed no surprise. I could tell that they hadn’t expected that.
“What were you planning to do?” I asked them. “Why do you want to harm Kerry Freiberg?”
They turned away, mumbling to each other in Saardiscan.
“You know these men?” Lucha adopted a skeptical air, probably imagining that these were our boyfriends and this was some sort of perverted domestic quarrel. “What are they saying? What language are they speaking?”
Stephanie wasn’t about to answer, so I did.
“My name is Olivia Paras. I’m the executive chef at the White House.”
Officer Lucha’s jaw dropped, as I expected it would.
“These men are diplomatic visitors to the United States,” I continued. “As I said, if you let me show you my ID, I’m sure we’ll be able to clear this up quickly. To start, however, it might be a good idea to call the Secret Service.”
CHAPTER 28
The next morning I didn’t even have to say a word. Bucky arrived, took one look at my bruised face, and asked, “What happened?”
I brought him up to speed on the prior night’s adventure. “Once Tom and his band of Secret Service agents arrived to take control of the scene, I was finally able to relax.”
“Where are Hector and Nate now?”
I held up my hands. “They were taken into custody by the agents, but after that I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll find out more shortly. Tom called an urgent meeting this morning.”
“Where was Gav through all this?”
“Working late.”
“You didn’t call him to come get you?”
“Once I got home, I called him, sure,” I said, “but his job and responsibilities don’t include racing to the scene every time the White House chef runs into trouble.”
Bucky shook his head, chuckling. “Now that I think about it, that would be a full-time position in itself.”
“He was understandably agitated that I hadn’t called him sooner.”
“I’ll bet.”
In fact, when Gav got home, his first words were, “I want to hear it all. Start from the top. Don’t leave anything out.”
I hadn’t. His emotions at the retelling had run from furious at the assault, to being proud of me for my handling of it, to impatience at not being able to obtain updated information from his Secret Service colleagues. He’d tried, but—as of last night, at least—there were still too many layers of protection covering the chaos for even someone at his level to penetrate.
Bucky had donned his apron and was ready to get started. “What happened to the tape?”
“Tom has it.” I looked up at the clock. “You’re on your own for breakfast this morning.” Pointing to a small batch of potatoes on the countertop, I added, “I peeled those but that’s as far as I got. Tom’s meeting starts in ten minutes.”
“Got it.” He stretched his neck, rubbing his hand down its length, his expression thoughtful. “What about the other two? Cleto and your buddy Tibor?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “Stephanie and I didn’t translate the entire tape, but from the portions we heard, it seemed as though Cleto and Tibor were unaware of the plot the other two had in mind.”
“So,” he began warily, “they’re coming back? To continue working with us?”
Gav and I had talked about this at length last night. “I can’t say that I have any real influence when it comes to diplomatic decisions, but I’m not going down without a fight. I cannot allow either man in this kitchen ever again.”
“How well do you think that will go over?”
“I have no idea. The decisions made at high levels don’t always follow logic.” Taking a quick glance at
the kitchen clock, I jumped. “I’d better get over there.”
“Good luck,” he said.
“Thanks. I’ll need it.”
* * *
I arrived at the Secret Service office in the West Wing with about one minute to spare. Tom’s assistant showed me in. I wasn’t surprised to find Sargeant there, but I stifled my shock at the sight of Cleto and Tibor. Sargeant and the Saardiscan men stood as I entered. I worked to keep my expression from betraying my disbelief.
Cleto stepped forward, offering me his now-vacant seat, even though there was a spare one waiting for me on my right. “Thank you, I’m fine.” I sat.
Tibor’s scowl, which had been such a permanent fixture on his weathered face, was gone, replaced by a flat expression that betrayed no emotion. He sat down after I did, not looking at me.
Cleto stepped back and as he and Sargeant lowered themselves into their seats, Cleto shook his head. “My sincerest apologies, Ms. Paras. I assure you that all citizens of Saardisca would be horrified to learn of what those two evil men were planning.”
“Everyone here has been briefed regarding the incident yesterday evening,” Tom said, bringing the meeting to order. “The Saardiscan government has been fully apprised and the State Department is in discussions now with them to determine our next steps.” He took a look around the room, making eye contact with each of us in turn.
“Nothing that is discussed is to be repeated outside this room,” Tom continued. “The only exceptions being Bucky, Marcel, Margaret, and certain Saardiscan officials Cleto and I have identified.” He squared his jaw as he faced Tibor. “Do you understand?”
Tibor still wasn’t scowling, but the blank, unreadable expression was gone. Wild, furtive eyes betrayed fear. “I do not wish to discuss this with anyone.” His right leg bounced and his fingers, clasped together in his lap, were white from being gripped so tightly. “I had no knowledge of what Nate and Hector were planning. I am innocent.”
“No one knew,” Tom said, offering the nervous man vague absolution. “We are, however, pleased to be aware of their scheme now. As things stand at this moment, we have obtained incontrovertible proof that Nate and Hector intended to harm Kerry Freiberg during her visit. Saardiscan officials have been informed and they are cooperating. We’re all very interested in discovering what the two men’s motivation was. As of right now, they are admitting to very little.”
Sargeant used the tips of his index finger and thumb to rub his eyebrows. “What was their actual plan?” he asked.
I thought it was a reasonable question.
Tom breathed in slowly through his nose, clearly impatient. “I am not at liberty to discuss specifics. What I can tell you, however, is that we have searched their hotel rooms and found enough evidence to detain them until further notice.”
“Where are Hector and Nate now?” I asked.
“We have them in a secure facility in Maryland.”
“They should be sent home at once to face punishment,” Cleto said. He turned to Tibor, looking for support. “Our government does not tolerate such treachery.”
Tibor, however, was focused on Tom. “What is to become of me?” he asked. “Am I to be sent home, too?”
“The reason I called you both here this morning was to advise you that as a result of these extraordinary circumstances, neither of you will be allowed to return to the White House after this meeting. We have already notified your government of our decision and they understand our position. I trust you both do as well.”
Cleto’s shoulders sagged. “But this was to be the crowning achievement of my career,” he said with patent dismay. His cheeks flushed pink and his hefty hands came up, gesticulating as impassioned words spilled. “You must believe me. There was no way I could have known of their terrorism. All four chefs were assigned to me. I did not choose them. I did not know them and could not have predicted this.”
Tom listened politely. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. We were done with the Saardiscans in our kitchen. Done for good with the men who had brought us nothing but aggravation and trouble. One more piece of good news and I’d be dancing disco across Tom’s desk. Ducking my head, I worked hard not to allow my delight to show.
“Your government understands,” Tom said when Cleto took a breath.
“And yet they allow me to be stripped of authority?”
“They didn’t say a word about your duties or your authority. You’ll have to take that up with them later. As you might imagine, they were far more concerned with the consequences of Hector’s and Nate’s actions.”
“Then what is to happen to me?” he asked.
“I haven’t been told,” Tom said. “I hope you can appreciate the fact that our governments are scrambling to understand what’s going on here. I anticipate that you will be receiving updated information as it becomes available.”
A team of four Secret Service agents waited to escort Cleto and Tibor out. Both of them wore downcast expressions as they were herded away. Cleto turned to me, offering his hand. As we shook, he said, “Please express my disappointment and my great thanks to your assistant Bucky, and to the delightful Marcel. I am most appreciative of the time I spent with them. And many thanks to you for your generosity of spirit.”
“You’re welcome,” I said. “I hope our governments get to the bottom of this soon.”
“As do I.”
Right behind him, Tibor glared at me. “Good luck to you,” I said.
I thought he was going to walk out without responding, but he surprised me by asking, “What made you suspect Nate and Hector? Why did you tape their conversations?”
I hesitated.
Tom came up from around his desk. “Let’s not get into that. All we need to know is that their plans were defeated.”
One of the agents nudged Tibor’s arm, but the Saardiscan didn’t move. He stared at me as though willing me to shrivel and die on the floor in front of him. “As you know, I do not support this woman, this Kerry Freiberg, in her quest to become president. But to stoop to such a measure to prevent her from competing for the position is dishonorable.” He continued to stare malevolently, and it dawned on me that he was trying to convey sincerity rather than malice with that incensed expression. “You have done a great service to Saardisca.”
With that, he turned away.
Speechless, I watched them leave.
CHAPTER 29
The next morning, Bucky and I were in the best moods we’d been in for a very long time. Bucky whistled as he whipped up scrambled eggs. I hummed to myself as I flipped bacon.
“Unbelievable, Ollie,” he said over his shoulder. “You managed to save Kerry Freiberg’s life without alienating the Secret Service—for once.” He glanced up at the kitchen clock.
I checked the time, too.
He grinned. “And you managed to get rid of our Saardiscan visitors in the process. Bravo, Ace. Nicely done.”
“Thanks,” I said. “All in a day’s work.”
Not only had we been freed from our responsibilities regarding the Saardiscan chefs, not only had I not gotten into trouble for sticking my nose into international business, we were being rewarded. Cyan was coming back, albeit temporarily. I glanced up at the clock again.
“I know,” Bucky said. “I can’t wait for her to get here.”
“Marcel is thrilled to have his first assistant back in the pastry kitchen, too,” I said. “We may have our teams in place only until this dinner is complete, but I plan to enjoy every minute. With any luck,” I added, “the sequester will be over by then and life can get back to normal.”
“You are quite the optimist, aren’t you?” Bucky gave me a stern look, but I could tell he felt the same way.
Cyan appeared in the doorway, arms extended high in a victory pose. “I’m baaaack!” she said with a huge grin.
Bucky and I let out happy shouts of joy as we welcomed her with hugs and laughs. She was wearing her purple contact lenses today, and a smile as wide as I’
d ever seen. I hoped, selfishly, that her plans to leave the White House wouldn’t materialize for a long time. Focusing on the present, however, I reminded myself that she was here now, and that’s all that mattered. We were together, we were a team again. And with that thought, the tension of the past ten days dissolved.
With my hands clasping both Bucky’s and Cyan’s forearms, I grinned. “For the first time since the sequester started, things are looking up.”
When Margaret appeared in the kitchen two minutes later, I wondered if I’d spoken too soon. “Mr. Sargeant requests your presence in his office,” she said.
“Now?”
“Immediately.” She thrust one hip to the side and perched a fist on it while using the other hand to slide her oversized glasses up her nose. “If it was a scheduled meeting, I’d have sent you a notice via e-mail. It’s imperative that you come upstairs with me right away.”
I exchanged a glance with Bucky and Cyan. Bucky asked, “Are you in trouble?”
Before I could reply, Cyan shook her head. “Looks like nothing’s changed while I’ve been gone, has it?”
Tight-lipped and blinking with impatience, Margaret motioned me to follow. “Let’s go. Mr. Sargeant has a busy schedule today.”
Sargeant barely looked up when I was shown into his office. He was standing behind his desk, fingers lightly holding the edges of reading glasses as he studied a document in his other hand. “Olivia,” he said by way of greeting, which I took as a good sign. “Please sit down.”
His usually orderly desk was awash with papers, most of which appeared to be printed schedules with hastily scrawled notes in their margins.
When I sat, he did, too, still reading the page. He made a noise that conveyed overburdened aggravation, then handed the paper to me.
I started to scan, noting immediately that it was a copy of an e-mail to Sargeant from the White House chief of staff, time-stamped very early this morning.
