Charlie Ford Meets Secret Agent Man

by J.D. Tynan

  The men on the aircraft carrier had searched my handbag thoroughly. The room full of diplomatic people had taken our passports. They also confiscated my credit cards, driver's license and Blockbuster coupons in that room and I felt so violated that all my body cavities ached as if I had been searched by the DEA in Miami. Not a pretty picture and then, we couldn't even convince one single person in Hollywood that we were alive.

  "We should just call the National Enquirer. I'm sure they would love to get this scoop," I suggested as a joke, and Bella perked up. "I was kidding."

  "Well, if we called the press here in Greece and they came and took a statement from us, then my parents would actually see that I was alive and they'd come get us. It could work."

  Sure, it could work, but it seemed so dramatic. Then again, Bella loved drama. I was sure in ten years she'd be the next big ticket in Hollywood. She had the looks, she had the genes and she was, after all, the daughter of not one, but two Hollywood stars.

  "Let's just keep trying with the phone for awhile and then as a last resort, we'll call the paparazzi, okay?"

  "Okay," she replied.

  I tried Gregory again at the house, no answer. I called my brother in Austria, but he was at football practice. His wife, Julie, said that she had heard that Annabelle had died, along with a number of other unnamed passengers, but no mention of me, the nanny. Sheesh, even in death I was ignored.

  I called Dave in Seattle. He was at the hospital and his wife, Carrie, didn't watch television so I didn't even ask her if she had heard anything. Then I called Gregory again. I called Braden's house. I called Thomas again, but no one answered.

  "We should call your grandmother."

  "Yes." Bella grabbed the phone and dialed grandma's house in Belgium. "Gammy, are you there? Gammy pick up please, it's Bella. I'm okay. I'm here in Athens with Charlie and we're fine. Gammy?" Bella started crying again and hung

  Bella wrote down every single number that she knew from memory. Her father's agent, her father's publicist, her father's hair guy, and finally her mother's publicist answered with a solemn voice. Only it wasn't a real person, it was a recording saying that Miss Harrison would be out of touch until the funeral and that any correspondence could go to a PO Box in Hollywood, please, thank you for your kind prayers and goodbye. Dang.

  Bella tried Gammy two more times and left two more messages that were tearful.

  "She's probably with your dad, wherever he is."

  I waited another hour before trying Thomas again, and there still was no answer. At that point, I climbed into my clean clothes that they had brought me and demanded to speak to someone who could help us with our dilemma. They put me in touch with an American named Sam Watters.

  "Annabelle Munson." He smiled and extended his hand. "You're the hottest topic of conversation this week."

  "It's actually Squire," I said. "Look, we've tried everyone that she knows and they either hang up on us or no one is answering. Can you help us out?"

  "I think your best shot is to call the police and let them handle this."

  "We don't know where either of her parents are. They could be anywhere in the U.S., or their place in St. Thomas, or Paris. We've just been through hell. We just want to go home." Fatigue was starting to set in and I really wanted to see Vince again. I thought I liked Vince best. Duane is the one who kissed me, but then again, Ryan was the one who snuggled next to me by the campfire. Well, and it was actually Duane who saved our lives in the first place. Oh, I just want him back.

  I slumped over in Sam Watters' office and caught my cheek in my palm. "I just want to go home."

  "Me, too." Bella could clearly sense my pain.

  "Alright, I'll make some calls to some people I know in New York and we will see what we can do. Why don't you two go out and get some fresh air. Athens is amazing and it looks like you could both use some new clothes."

  To my surprise, he handed me my purse back. I rarely used my MasterCard and right then seemed like as good a time as any to max it out.

  Bella perked up at the sound of that and off we went. We stopped off in our guest room and I made one last ditch attempt to call Gregory again. Nope. He still wasn't home.

  ***

  Athens was amazing. It is more beautiful than I ever imagined. The streets look ancient and everywhere I looked, there was yet another beautiful man who looked like Vince. Black hair, deep dark eyes and chiseled chins everywhere I looked. Yep, I had Secret Agent Man on my mind and I couldn't shake him. I did my best at distracting myself at a corner boutique where I bought new mascara, some pretty, mauve nail polish and a silk scarf to wrap in my chin-length dark hair.

  I've never been one of those super-girly women who enjoyed manicures, pedicures and facials, but it sure seemed like a good idea when Bella suggested it. I think we spent an entire three hours in that spa and if our bond wasn't strong enough before we went, it was even stronger when we emerged. I could see us possibly staying in touch for the rest of our lives. Hell, when she turns twenty-one, I want to be there. When she falls in love for the first time, I want to be there and when her heart gets stomped on by some creep named Rico, I want to be there to help pick up the pieces. I know I'm eighteen years her elder and her nanny of all things, but I have never in my life felt more connected to another female than I did to Bella.

  "Do you just want to get on a plane and go home?" I suggested as I stepped into a pretty, plum-colored sundress that cradled my breasts perfectly. I felt like a woman. It was not the typical thing that I would wear, but hell, when in Rome….Okay, okay, so we were in Athens.

  "I dunno." Bella shrugged and smiled at me. "I like it. You look so pretty."

  "Thanks," I gushed at the sweet girl who made my life hell the last time I took her shopping. We'd come a long way together; at least something positive came out of that whole mess. In fact, many positive things emerged from one traumatic week spent on the Dark Continent. Right then I was thinking that I was almost glad that it happened. Not glad how it ended, though. I really need to find happier endings.

  We stopped for a quick shot of ouzo. I'd never had ouzo before but I was in Greece and they offered it on about every corner. I finally had something similar to good old American pancakes, but it wasn't quite the same. Bella filled up on Italian sodas, a giant gyro and a bed of greens with olive oil and feta cheese.

  "I'm so full." I leaned over and gave Bella a pinch on the cheek. "We should get back."

  She actually laid her head back onto the back of the chair and closed her eyes. She amazed me sometimes. I think she was smelling the roses. "You okay?"

  "Fine."

  And I think she really will be.

  Things weren't as they should have been when we returned to the embassy. People with cameras filled the steps leading up to the main gate. Paparazzi. Holy shit, I had never seen such a mob since….well, since the wildebeests in Africa. I didn't turn quickly enough to get us out of eye-sight of the crowd and soon, guards with riot gear arrived and we were safely shuffled inside.

  I dropped my shopping bag to the floor and inhaled sharply. "That was your bright idea?" I slammed my palms against Sam Watters' jacket lapels. "That wasn't very smart.”

  "I didn't," Sam confessed. "I swear, I made some calls to some people in New York and D.C. and then people just started calling out of nowhere. They had heard a rumor that the Munson girl was in Athens and that she was trying to reach her parents. The AP is jammed with calls and reports and even CNN has made inquiries. This is the biggest thing since…"

  "Watergate," I shouted with hands on hips. This was what was wrong with Americans. They are gossip hounds.

  "Come on." I grabbed Bella by the wrist. We went to our guest room and called Gregory. This time he was home.

  "Hello," he said solemnly.

  "Gregory, it's me. Charlie…Don't hang up," I yelled when I heard a high-pitched squeak. I didn't hear a thud or the phone hit the floor so I was convinced that he hadn't fainted.

  "Th
at's not funny," he shouted. "Who is this? Why are you doing this?"

  "Jesus, Gregoire." I knew that was his real name, but he changed it because it sounded too gay. "Listen to me, it's me. Charlie Ford. And I can prove it."

  I heard heavy breathing. Most likely, he was thinking very hard.

  "Where do we keep the dog food?" he said as a test.

  "In the kitchen pantry in a big tub, labeled 'dog food.'" I said, pretty pleased with myself and happy that he was about to believe me.

  "Anyone could know that. Where…" he began again, but as I saw Bella turn on the TV and we saw our cowering faces, I knew I didn't have much time.

  "I know that you keep lavender-scented bath beads under the purple towels in the guest bathroom." There was silence, more breathing and then a high-pitched squeal that nearly shattered my eardrum.

  "Oh gawd, Charlie. Is Annabelle alive?"

  Duh.

  "Yes. We're both fine. We're in Athens and the paparazzi just invaded the embassy. I've been trying to get through to Roald and Nicole all day. Where the hell are they?"

  "They're at their summer place in Taos. I think they might be reconciling."

  Planning funeral arrangements sounded more feasible, but it could happen.

  "Can you get through to them before they hear it on TV?"

  "Sure, I'll do my best. Give me the number there and I'll have him call you. Oh, God." He was now crying. I could hear the loud sobs over the phone. "Is she there? Can I talk to her?"

  I handed the phone to a newly reprieved Bella, who was just as tearful. I gave them a couple of minutes to chat and stared out the window at the mob of reporters, all of whom wanted the scoop of the century. I, for one, was not going to give it to them. Bella was my responsibility and I didn't want her to be disturbed.

  Bella laughed a lot on the phone. I heard her apologize to him for being such a brat and then they cried some more and I grabbed the phone.

  "Why? I mean how?" I was so tongue-tied. "Why did he think we were dead?"

  "The charter company in Kenya said that the plane went down over the mountains and no one survived. They showed her father photos of the crashed plane, incinerated beyond recognition. He had no choice but to believe them. What happened? Where have you been?"

  "It's such a long story; I'll tell you when we get back. See you soon I hope."

  I disconnected and waited thirteen minutes before Sam Watters knocked on the door.

  "Mr. Munson is on the phone."

  I'd seen Bella cry a lot the past week. I had seen her at her lowest, her saddest and at that moment I was seeing her at the highest of her highs. She couldn't even speak when she heard her father's voice. I, too, wept like a child and pressed my cheek against hers so that I could hear their conversation. I held her shoulder tightly as he wept loudly and told her how much he loved her. It was something so incredibly moving that it warmed my heart.

  After a half an hour, she finally handed me the phone so he could arrange for their reunion.

  "Charlie?"

  "Yes." I felt good about myself at that point, so I was confident that he wasn't going to blurt out those all too familiar words, "You're fired."

  "Thank you for bringing her home safely. I can't wait to hear all about it. Thank you. I owe you my life."

  "It was my pleasure."

  Chapter Nine

  We didn't have much to pack up. Just the couple of new outfits that we had just bought, my new makeup, some snacks for the trip home. I knew that we had quite a bit of time to kill before Roald and Nicole arrived, but I also knew that I couldn't take Annabelle outside the walls. We did however take a walk downstairs to sit and watch the sunset off the back patio. There were three guards standing watch over the veranda. I felt calm and centered. Almost Zen-like. I couldn't help the giggle and then Duane popped into my head. Duane with his thick, Coke-bottle glasses and matted down hair that he parted directly down the center of his head. That stupid shirt he was wearing and the husky tone of his voice when he demanded that I hand over my purse.

  I clutched my bag towards my chest as I watched the first twinkle of the first star. No matter how dirty and grimy it was, I didn't feel the need to rush out and buy a new one. The bag that I was holding had a story to tell. It had brought us food when we were hungry, gave me Midol when I was bloated and held the key to our escape. I sure was glad at that point that I had bought the metal nail file instead of the paper emery boards like I usually purchase. My thought when I bought it special for the trip was that I might need to dig some dirt out from under my fingernails and it looked as if it could get the job done.

  I was so thankful for everything I had. Without releasing my bag from my grasp, I looked over at Bella and held out my hand. "What are you thinking about?"

  "If this was a movie, I'd be sitting under the stars with Justin Timberlake."

  I smiled and clutched my bag.

  "If this were a movie…." I didn't and couldn't finish my story because it involved Secret Agent Man, a bed, and an XXX rating. I grinned sheepishly.

  "You miss him, don't you?"

  Was I that obvious, or was she just one smart pre-teen? I just nodded and closed my eyes. If only my life were a movie. If only. If only.

  Minutes later, I heard a loud crash. I looked back and saw a young boy holding a tray with what I assumed was our dinner.

  "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I'll be right back."

  I know we were babes and all, but come on. We're starving.

  When he didn't return promptly, I got up to see what was taking so long and when I did, the French guy with bad teeth approached me and said I was to come with him. He smelled like musk and cat urine. For all I knew, it was his cologne. I'd once or twice heard that Europeans have different hygiene habits than us Americans. Usually, I wouldn't mind, but his odor was making me gag.

  "Miss Ford." He extended his hand and when I took it, he brought it too his lips and kissed the back of it. Yuck. "I'm Christian DuLucere. Would you please come with me?"

  I pulled Bella along with me and when we got to the foyer, another man approached us.

  "I'm to take you to the airport to await your flight to meet Mr. Munson."

  Okay. I figured that Roald would actually come pick us up himself, but he never said he would. He just said he would arrange for our reunion.

  "Isn't he meeting us here?"

  "He can't take that chance with the media attention and all. Please come with me."

  I shrugged and held Bella's hand while we said goodbye to Sam and the rest of the staff. I waved behind me and stepped into the stretch limo that was waiting behind the gate on the south side of the building. The paparazzi were still camped out front, out the west side and across the street. Sitting there like vultures. The sight made my stomach turn and I completely understood Roald's hesitation.

  I didn't start feeling uncomfortable about our companions until we pulled out into the street and I could no longer see the American flag waving from the tall pole atop the building. Then I was at the mercy of three men in cheap suits. One of whom was glaring at me from behind his bifocals.

  I enjoyed the limo ride up until we reached the airport. Then for some reason, something didn't sit right in my gut. Perchance, it was the lamb-meat gyro that I had for lunch, perhaps it was all the ouzo I had been drinking, or perhaps it was my keen instincts that something was amiss.

  I chose the latter as we approached a private plane. I held on tight to Bella's hand and demanded to speak to Bella's father before we got on the plane.

  "Would it be alright if I spoke to her father? You know, just to reaffirm to him that the girl is okay."

  Both men exchanged questioning glances. I think I must have confused them. Perhaps they weren't used to their passengers making such strange requests.

  "Mr. Munson can't be reached. You'll see him soon enough."

  Why did I get the feeling that he was lying to me? I can tell you why. Because when I still refused to take my hand off the hand
le in the limo, a long silver gun, equipped nicely with a sleek silencer poked me in the nose.

  Oh Shit!

  "You have got to be kidding me!" I shouted at the Lord, and closed my eyes before stepping out and keeping Bella right by my side. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I mumbled to God one more time and hoped he would answer with a strong bolt of lightning that I hoped would zap the guy with the gun.

  Both men looked at me with inquiring gazes. They must not have been privy to the hell that we had just been through. What was happening was completely implausible, even for the movies.

  I stared at the man with the gun; willing God to make amends with his godly bolt of lightning. No such luck.

  "We're waiting." He nudged me in the back and to my surprise; Bella was much cooler than I was.

  CIA ran through my mind. As did KGB, for old time’s sake. Perhaps it did still exist; they just didn't want us to know about it. Then I even thought British Secret Service and half-expected James Bond to emerge from the small jet. Again, no such luck.

  I really did have faith that God would not let someone kidnap Bella and me twice in the same week, so I chalked it up to Secret Agent Man and figured this was just his idea of foreplay.

  ***

  The plane was so much nicer than the last one we had been on. It had soft leather seats, tables, a fridge, a couch and a bathroom with, I was guessing, running water. The men didn't seem quite as rude as my former captors did, so I sat down beside Bella on the couch. They were kind enough to offer us some snacks, which we both declined. They took my bag from me and rummaged through it before they tossed it into an overhead compartment. I do have to say that they did this horrifying experience so much more tastefully than our last captors

  "May I ask where you are taking us?" Because I assumed it wasn't back to the States, to her father and mother, to my parents even. Neither of the men flinched. My stomach rolled up into my throat when we were finally airborne. Bella was still so eerily quiet, I checked to see if she was still breathing. "We're going to be okay. I'm sure of it."