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  “Of course.” Ambassador Halley motioned toward the second gentleman and said, “May I introduce Sir Charles Rollins, His Majesty’s envoy to Paris?”

  “Charmed, I am sure.” His inspection of their scruffy forms dripped disapproval. With an impatient gesture he plucked an engraved watch from his vest pocket and sighed. “Well, I suppose we don’t have the time now to send them off someplace to wash and change into something more appropriate.”

  “I seriously doubt that the minister will give much thought to their appearance,” the ambassador replied gravely. “Especially after he hears what I have to say.”

  “No, perhaps not.” The British envoy snapped his watch closed and peered at Pierre from beneath bushy brows. “Major Servais, do I understand that you carry with you a written testimony of your brother’s findings?”

  “I do,” Pierre replied. “In detail.”

  “May I see it, please?”

  “Of course.” Pierre extracted a rumpled and folded sheaf of papers. “They are in French, I am afraid.”

  “No matter,” the envoy said, drawing out a pair of reading spectacles. The gathering was silent for a long moment until the envoy finally lifted his eyes and nodded once. “These will do rather nicely.”

  “I did not doubt it for an instant,” Ambassador Halley replied.

  “No, of course not. Still, it is best to be certain before confronting a member of the president’s cabinet with an accusation of high treason.” Sir Charles permitted himself a frosty smile. “All of you are to be congratulated. Minister Clairmont has proven himself to be a dedicated foe to our efforts to create a unified and strengthened Europe.” He turned his gaze toward the American ambassador. “I don’t suppose there is any reason not to share the news with them, is there?”

  “If anyone deserves to hear it, they do,” Ambassador Halley replied, and gestured through the doorway. “Why don’t we all go in and sit down. Bill, see if you can rustle up some coffee and sandwiches.”

  “Right away, sir,” the young official said.

  The ambassador turned to where Akers and Slade stood in silent patience. “You gentlemen are a credit to your service. I imagine you will want to report in to Mr. Walters. I will be speaking with you later.”

  “Thank you, sir.” With a friendly nod toward Jake and another at Sally, they turned and walked down the hall.

  “Come in, all of you.” They entered a grand salon redesigned as a small conference room. Beyond the oval table was a setting of brocade sofas and chairs gathered about a low coffee table. Once everyone was seated, Ambassador Halley said, “Why don’t you carry on, Sir Charles.”

  “Delighted.” The portly gentleman leaned forward and said, “As we speak, our governments are actively engaged in establishing a new and unified military force intended to combat future threats to our freedom and our peace. We hope that this force will be sufficiently strong to stop such disastrous armed conflicts from ever happening again. Nip such troubles in the bud, as it were.”

  “We intend to call it NATO,” Ambassador Halley explained. “The North Atlantic Treaty Organization.”

  “Yes, and our efforts are being stymied at every turn by a certain Minister Clairmont,” Sir Charles huffed, “who has rallied about him every isolationist, Communist, and troublemaker in France.”

  “He is a power-mad menace,” Ambassador Halley agreed. “But this very same power has made him virtually impossible to dislodge. That’s why your information has become so vital.”

  “Exactly,” Sir Charles agreed. “Bring Clairmont down, and we behead the behemoth. Then NATO shall emerge from the drawing boards into reality, and Europe shall be taken one step closer to lasting peace.”

  “So you see, gentlemen,” Ambassador Halley concluded, “the information in your charge had much more weight than the discrediting of just one man for wartime treason.”

  “Indeed, yes,” Sir Charles agreed adamantly. “And this also explains why he was able to draw such widespread support when it appeared you had managed to escape the grasp of his minions in Morocco. Clairmont and his supporters saw their entire house of cards begin to tremble in the sudden winds of change.”

  The young official appeared in the doorway. “Excuse me, Mister Ambassador, Sir Charles. Minister Clairmont is here.”

  Instantly the two gentlemen were on their feet, raising the others with a single warning glance. “Show the gentleman in, please.”

  The first thing Jake noticed were the lips. They were pale and fleshy and formless, as was all of the man. He moved with the boneless grace of a jellyfish. His broad girth was encased in hand-tailored finery, yet nothing could disguise the loose-fleshed flaccidity of a dedicated glutton. With every mincing step on his overpolished shoes, his entire body quivered.

  “I do hope there truly is an emergency, Ambassador,” he said petulantly. His voice was not high, but rather lacked any tone whatsoever. “It was most inconvenient to make time for this, especially with your insisting that we meet here and not in my own offices.”

  “I assure you, Minister, that these circumstances fit the word emergency perfectly.”

  He sniffed his disdain and turned to the British envoy. “I do not recall being informed that you would be joining us today, Sir Charles.”

  “I took it upon myself to come, Minister, I do hope you will excuse the intrusion. Given the gravity of this situation, I thought both our governments should be represented.”

  The minister raised a contemptuous eyebrow at the denim-suited four and sniffed a second time. “Don’t tell me you have discovered a ring of thieves among your cleaning staff.”

  The look on Pierre’s face turned so murderous that the minister took an involuntary step back. Jake reached one hand over and touched Pierre lightly on the back. He watched his friend force himself back to the relaxed calm of a hungry tiger.

  The minister noticed it as well. Nervously he said, “Perhaps we should have security join us for this discussion.”

  “Minister Clairmont, may I introduce Jasmyn Coltrane, formerly of the French Resistance in Marseille. This is Sally Anders, of my own government’s administrative staff.”

  “Ladies,” he murmured in his quietly rasping voice. He cast an uncertain glance up and down their rumpled forms. “If this is your idea of a joke, Ambassador, I assure you I am not amused.”

  “And this,” Ambassador Halley continued with evident relish, “is Major Pierre Servais, commandant of the French garrison at Badenburg. The other gentleman is none other than Colonel Jake Burnes, head of the American military base at Karlsruhe.”

  The thick folds encasing the minister’s small eyes widened noticeably. A tremor began upon those pale fleshy lips and passed through his entire body. He tried to speak, but could utter no sound. His corpulent body gradually folded in upon itself, and he collapsed into the chair behind him.

  “Let us make ourselves perfectly clear,” Sir Charles said crisply. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to turn the information that these gentlemen have brought with them over to the newspapers. I would truly delight in watching you be publicly destroyed.”

  Another tremor passed through the spineless frame, and the pale lips emitted a faint groan.

  “However,” Sir Charles went on, “our governments have decreed otherwise. We are gathered here to offer you an alternative. You will today call a press conference and declare your total and unequivocal support for NATO. A week from now, you will retire from all public offices. In return for these actions, we will withhold all evidence and allow you to pass from public view with your good name intact.”

  A visible rage swept through Pierre. Again Jake reached over and gave his friend a warning tap.

  The minister raised his eyes in mute appeal. “There is absolutely no room for maneuvering or negotiation,” Ambassador Halley stated in a hard voice. “Take it or leave it.”

  The corpulent shoulders slumped in abject defeat. “I have no choice,” he murmured.

 
“Indeed not.” Sir Charles turned to Ambassador Halley. “Perhaps our esteemed visitors might be excused while we go over the details.”

  “Good idea.” Ambassador Halley turned to Jake and said, “I’ve reserved four rooms at the Hotel du Crillon next door. Rest up and have a look around, why don’t you. We’ll get together again once this matter has died down.”

  “We don’t have any papers,” Jake confessed. “Or money.”

  “And there is the matter of a price on our heads,” Pierre said, his gaze not budging from the minister’s bald pate, his fury barely contained.

  “My assistant will see to your registration. And as to the matter of the warrants for your arrest,” Ambassador Halley said, his own cold loathing showing through as he glanced down at the deflated minister, “I’m sure they will be cleared up in a matter of hours.”

  Jake shook the offered hands, took a firm grasp of Pierre’s arm, and led them all toward where the young official stood waiting in the doorway. Farther down the hall, he pulled Pierre to one side. “I was afraid you were going to lose it there for a minute.”

  “I cannot believe they expect me to let this matter simply fade away,” Pierre hissed. “I will not allow it. The life of my brother has been threatened.”

  “Not to mention our own,” Jake added, grinning broadly.

  “And my family’s honor is at stake,” Pierre continued, then looked sharply at his friend. “I see nothing whatsoever that is the least bit humorous about this affair.”

  “Think for a minute,” Jake said, still smiling. “Did they order you to remain bound by this agreement? Or your brother to stay quiet?”

  Pierre’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “Give them their time in the spotlight,” Jake replied. “Let them get this NATO agreement down on paper. Who’s going to stop you from going to the papers yourself in a couple of months?”

  Pierre stood and digested this for a long moment before the furrows rose in a smile that creased his face from chin to forehead. “My friend, the weight of the world has just dropped from my shoulders.”

  Jake clapped him on the shoulders and steered him around. “Come on, buddy. The ladies are waiting.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Scarcely had they entered the elegant hotel lobby when a gray-suited gentleman approached. “Colonel Burnes, my name is Walters.”

  “Ah,” Pierre said. “The man who was not there.”

  Mr. Walters kept his gaze on Jake. “I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time.”

  “I was sort of looking forward to having a bath and putting my feet up for a while,” Jake replied.

  “This won’t take long. Please.”

  Jake looked at Sally and said, “Why don’t you go on up to your room? I’ll be along directly.”

  “Thank you so much.” Mr. Walters guided him over to a quiet corner and gestured him into a seat. “Can I offer you something?”

  “I’ll wait for the others, thanks.”

  “Then I’ll come right to the point.” Mr. Walters was a trim, mild man whose appearance was so nondescript he almost went unnoticed. Yet there was a tensile strength to his voice, and his gaze was rapier keen. “I hope you will excuse me for not joining you for your little session with the minister. I vastly prefer others to take the limelight. Such things tend to get in the way of those in my profession. I trust everything went according to plan?”

  “As far as I could tell,” Jake replied. “Are you a spy?”

  “I prefer to consider myself an agent in the service of my country. You are familiar with the Office of Strategic Services?”

  “The OSS? Who isn’t?”

  “We are in the process of disbanding. Our mission, that of helping to win the war, has been accomplished.” The gaze bit deep, and the crisply articulating voice did not require volume to hold Jake’s attention. “But other conflicts are arising, Colonel Burnes. Other dangers loom on the horizon, threatening both our nation and our way of life.”

  “Just what are you getting at?”

  “We need men like you,” Walters responded frankly. “Men who show such a combination of traits as you have during the past few weeks—leadership, the ability to think on one’s feet, the capacity to land in alien surroundings and both build allies and accomplish the impossible, absolute trustworthiness in adverse circumstances, and much else.”

  “I have been living on luck,” Jake replied flatly.

  “Luck plays a great part in the success of our business,” he replied. “We try to prepare ourselves as well as possible, and then choose people who have the proven capacity to make their own luck.”

  Jake felt like he was being blindsided. “You are asking me to give up command of the Karlsruhe base?”

  “Is that the life you would prefer for yourself, Colonel? Riding a desk in Germany, bound by all the rules and regulations of a peacetime army?” Slowly Mr. Walters shook his head. “I think not. You are a man who feeds upon adventure. And that is exactly what I am offering. Along with the opportunity to serve your country in ways that best suit the kind of man you are.”

  Adventure. Jake felt his heart surge at the call. “Where would I be based?”

  “Anywhere the need arises.” Mr. Walters rose to his feet. “I think we have said enough for one day. Why don’t you think on it, Colonel, and get back to me in a day or so.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The next few days were filled with the wonder of Sally, the glory of Paris, and the delight of being in love.

  The streets of the city teemed with life, but people seemed in no hurry to go anywhere. Simply to be there, to sit and stroll and watch and window-shop, was enough. Thin faces framed bright eyes that peered at everything with great intensity, eager to drink it all in, store it up, refill the heart and mind after the long empty war years.

  They took the clattering lift up to the top of the Eiffel Tower, climbed the circular stairs in the Arc de Triomphe, held hands walking down the Champs-Elysees, sat for hours over simple meals. They took a horse carriage along the Bois de Boulogne. They leaned over the back railings of overcrowded buses, allowing the other passengers to push them up together, and relished being in a city where kissing in public was a natural part of life. They lazed in sidewalk cafes for uncounted hours, replete with the day’s joy. They walked along the Seine, watched the fishermen and the artists and the other lovers, and felt that here indeed was a haven where love was meant to be renewed.

  Paris was a city of love, of passion, of memories, of hope for better tomorrows. The peace and tranquility, the excitement and verve, the beauty and the despair, the fashion and the poverty—it all meant so much more to Jake because he shared it with Sally.

  It was there on the banks of the Seine, the third morning after their arrival, that Jake led Sally away from Pierre and Jasmyn and the painters and the fishermen, down to where a bench awaited them, poised beside the river’s edge and sheltered by two ancient chestnuts.

  Sally seemed to know it was an important moment. Her wide eyes were focused upon him, and for once her customary wit had fled to reveal a woman-child who appeared as nervous and solemn as Jake felt.

  Jake turned to her and grasped both of her hands as he had planned to do, his heart hammering with the fear and the joy and fullness of the moment. He looked deep into those beautiful smoky eyes and asked with all the love and gentle force he could muster, “I love you, Sally Anders. With all my heart. Will you marry me?”

  DAVIS BUNN, a professional novelist for over twenty years, is the author of numerous national bestsellers with sales totaling more than six million copies. His work has been published in sixteen languages, and his critical acclaim includes three Christy Awards for excellence in fiction. Formerly an international business executive working in Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, Bunn is now a lecturer in creative writing and Writer in Residence at Regent’s Park College, Oxford University. He and his wife, Isabella, divide their time between the Englis
h countryside and the coast of Florida.

  Books by Davis Bunn

  * * *

  The Book of Hours

  The Great Divide

  Winner Take All

  The Lazarus Trap

  Elixir

  Imposter

  Lion of Babylon

  Rare Earth

  All Through the Night

  My Soul to Keep

  ACTS OF FAITH*

  The Centurion’s Wife • The Hidden Flame

  The Damascus Way

  SONG OF ACADIA*

  The Meeting Place • The Sacred Shore

  The Birthright • The Distant Beacon

  The Beloved Land

  HEIRS OF ACADIA†

  The Solitary Envoy • The Innocent Libertine

  The Noble Fugitive • The Night Angel

  Falconer’s Quest

  *with Janette Oke †with Isabella Bunn