Chapter 3

Surprised at her own anger, Amanda flinched at the sound of the door slamming shut behind her. She slowed her pace and took a few calming breaths before opening the door at the top of the stairs, while a jumble of confused thoughts ran through her mind. “Why do I let him get to me that way? What right does he have, anyway, acting like a jealous person? It’s not like we’re dating or anything. Okay, ‘or anything’ is probably going too far. It’s true. We have been getting closer lately, haven’t we? Spending a little more time together, off the clock? Oh. . .I don’t know. . .one minute he’s friendly and sweet and even tender, and the next he’s irritated with me, or he’s being overprotective for no good reason, like he doesn’t believe I can take care of myself and ooh! That makes me so. . .so. . .”

With a shake of her head, she straightened her shoulders and twisted the doorknob, transforming her countenance into the best smile she could muster, at least for long enough to get down the stairs and past Mrs. Marston. The steely-eyed receptionist fixed her with a sidelong glance, but Amanda did her best to ignore it as she stepped into the elevator.

When she walked out on the third underground level and started down the corridor toward the bullpen, she came face to face with Francine Desmond.

Amanda’s smile had lost its luster, and Francine seized on the chance to taunt her. “What’s the problem Amanda, trouble in paradise?” She stuck out her lower lip and asked, “Are you disappointed you won’t be working with Scarecrow on this one?” She trailed a well-manicured finger down Amanda’s arm with the last bit, her tone oozing insincerity.

“Disappointed? Ha!” Amanda countered with an ironic laugh. “Not this time, Francine!” She shook her head and raised her hands in surrender as she went on, “Oh no! He’s all yours!” She gave her blonde sometime-nemesis a saccharine smile and said in a sing-song voice, “Have a nice time!”

Amanda’s uncharacteristic response caused Francine’s blue eyes to widen in disbelief. After she managed to close her mouth, she stood there staring as Amanda nodded to the guards and walked into the bullpen.

*****

Dieter Volkenauer stood in the open doorway to Billy Melrose’s office. Amanda heard Mr. Melrose telling him, “She may be upstairs in the Q Bureau with Stetson. Just take the elevator to the Georgetown foyer, and our receptionist can direct you from there. Good luck on your mission, and be careful out there!”

“Yes, of course, Mr. Melrose. Thank you!” He bowed slightly, then turned around as he pulled the door closed. His eyes brightened when he looked up and saw Amanda’s face. “Ah! Frau King! Here you are! I was beginning to wonder what had become of you.”

“Oh. . .sorry about that,” she said with a shy smile. “Lee and I—Mr. Stetson and I—just took a few minutes to look over the assignment sheets and photos. I guess he hadn’t taken a look at the assignment run-down before he. . .”

“He had assumed the two of you would be working together, just like. . .”

“Just like we usually do, yes,” she answered. She cleared her throat and went on with a shrug and a slightly nervous wave of her hand. “Anyway, I pointed out to him that he was assigned to work with Francine—Ms. Desmond, and that I’d be working with you this time.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, as though he might want to hear a bit more of that story, but he didn’t press her, so she opted to change the subject. “So. . .how are we going to handle this? I mean, we’re both probably a little overdressed to look like tourists,” she said, lightly touching the lapel of his neatly-pressed suit and waving a hand down over her silk blouse and skirt. “Why don’t I go on home and change, and then I can come by your hotel, say. . .about an hour from now?”

He smiled at her smart practicality and replied, “Yes of course, certainly, Frau King. Amanda. . .may I call you Amanda?” At her brief nod, he leaned forward and took hold of her arms as he said, “I will see you at my hotel--the Jefferson--you know the place? Shall we say, 10:15?”

“Sure. I’ll just put this away here and be on my way,” she answered, ducking her head and slipping her arms out of his grasp to walk over to her usual work station and place the assignment folder into the small drawer. She looked up and clasped her hands together as she asked, “Oh, by the way, Mr. Volkenauer. . .Dieter? Do you have a camera?” At his slightly questioning look, she spread her hands and said, “Never mind. I’ll bring one, and we’ll get some extra film later. Okay then, see you!”

“Auf wiedersehen, Amanda!” he said with a friendly smile.

She didn’t look back, but she could feel his eyes following her as she headed out of the bullpen and down the corridor. It was a nice feeling. She could do without mixed messages for a change.

*****

Lee had finished reviewing his assignment folder and the suspects’ photographs when he heard Francine’s heels clicking in the hallway outside the Q Bureau. He closed the folder and stood up behind his desk as she came into the room.

“There you are,” she said with a broad smile. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten me.”

“Not a chance,” he smirked, rolling his eyes slightly. He rounded the desk and touched her elbow as he asked, “So. . .are you ready to go?” Gesturing back and forth between them with his hand, he suggested, “Why don’t we both go home and change into something a little more casual, and I’ll come by and pick you up in about an hour, all right?”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Francine agreed as they left the Q Bureau and headed for the stairs. Before they came to the door at the other end of the short hallway, she looked back over her shoulder at him and cracked, “Boy! I don’t know what you said to Amanda this morning, but you are definitely not on her ‘A-list’ today!”

“Yeah. . .” he began to admit with an apologetic smile, then caught himself and shut his mouth abruptly. This was Francine, after all—he ought to know, anything he said could be all over the Agency by nightfall. “It was nothing, really—just a little disagreement, that’s all—a misunderstanding,” he stated with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Mm-hm? Right. . .” she said with an exaggerated nod, stretching out the last word as a sly grin spread across her face.

His lips formed a tight line and he narrowed his eyes at her as they neared the bottom of the stairs. “I’d button it if I were you, Francine,” he said, being careful to keep his voice low. He pinned her with his glare, then darted a quick glance at Mrs. Marston, signaling that the receptionist did not have a need to know about this particular subject.

“Whatever you say, Scarecrow!” she said with a wink, as she turned in her ID badge and exited the building. Lee looked up and lifted his hands as if to say, “Why me?”, before dropping his ID at the front desk and heading out to his car.

*****

As Amanda and Dieter walked side-by-side up the incline that led to the base of the Washington Monument, she smiled and said, “I’m glad it turned out to be such a nice warm day. You know, if we weren’t working, we could have had a great time here at the Mall. I mean, there are so many interesting places to visit. Take the Smithsonian, for instance. You could easily spend a couple of days there, just at the ‘castle’. Well, it’s not really a castle, but it looks like one, and then there are the monuments. They’re terrific, too, aren’t they? See, here we are at the Washington Monument, and if you look straight to the west you can see the Lincoln Memorial, and just over that way, on the other side of the Tidal Basin,” she extended her hand slightly to their left, ”that’s the Jefferson. We’ll probably go there either tomorrow or the next day.”

Dieter nodded and tried to insert either a “Ja” or “Mm” at each of her examples, but he hadn’t quite managed every time. He did his best to keep up with her pace and to look as though he understood everything she was saying, but for some reason, he wasn’t able to keep his amusement from showing.

She reached out to touch his arm, saying, “Oh, Dieter, I’m so sorry! I tend to babble when I’m nervous. I don’t know why I should be so nervous, really. . .I mean, I know the area here, and I know you. . .well, sort of. . .”

She stopped abruptly and averted her eyes, studying the walkway beneath their feet. “I’ve done it again, haven’t I? I hope I’m not annoying you too much already.”

Dieter tipped her chin up with his finger, assuring her, “No, indeed, Amanda, not at all.” He smiled and leaned forward, taking both of her hands in his as he continued. “I find your enthusiasm for this place quite charming.”

“Oh? Well, thank you,” she said softly, a sweet smile beginning to light up her face.

When they’d come to the front of the queue, Amanda handed the attendant their tickets for the elevator ride to the top of the Egyptian-style obelisk. When they reached the observation deck, Dieter took in the panoramic views of the capital city and the surrounding area, and Amanda helped him to spot several of the landmarks. At one point, when they moved from one window to another, Amanda saw someone out of the corner of her eye, someone she’d seen before. Could it be one of the terrorists? She wasn’t absolutely sure, and before she could get Dieter’s attention to point the young man out, he was nowhere to be seen.

*****

Lee and Francine milled around in Statuary Hall along with the other members of their Capitol tour group, both of them doing their best to look mildly interested in the tour guide’s droning spiel while examining everyone’s faces and looking for areas of vulnerability in building security.

The guide’s chatter continued, “The Hall was rebuilt between 1815 and 1819. Unfortunately, the smooth, curved ceiling promoted annoying echoes, making it difficult to conduct business. . .”

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah,’ Lee thought, ‘let’s get on with it!’ He pulled Francine aside, slipping his arm around her waist and whispering in her ear, “I don’t know, Francine. Maybe taking this tour wasn’t such a good idea.”

She slid her hand across his back and tilted her head up to look into his eyes. In a hushed tone, she replied, “Why not, Lee? We’ll at least get to see all the public access areas, and you can take a few pictures as we move through the building.” She gave him a bright smile and went on, “We can make arrangements to come back later, if you like.”

Lee had noticed that a sweet looking, silver-haired lady was watching them. The woman smiled and whispered something to her companion as she pointed in their direction. At that, he smiled down at his partner du jour and said, under his breath, “Just play along with me on this.” Then, in a tone of voice just loud enough for their audience of two to hear, he said, “All right, Honey, whatever you say,” giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Immediately, he turned his attention back to the tour guide, placing his hand at the small of Francine’s back and giving her a gentle shove towards the rest of their group. “Oh good. . .it looks like we’re moving on,” he said, flicking a quick glance at her and smiling to himself at her somewhat befuddled expression.

She recovered quickly, placing a little distance between them as she expressed wonder at the grandeur of the Capitol rotunda. She spread her hands and backed away from him, ogling their surroundings as she said, “Lee! Would you look at this place? It’s enormous!”

“It is indeed,” the red-coated guide interjected, not missing a beat. “The diameter of the rotunda is 96 feet, and the height from the floor to the canopy of the dome is 180 feet. Now, let me draw your attention to the sepia toned images in the band just below the curve of the dome. The frieze you see there was designed by an Italian immigrant, Constantino Brumidi, and is done in true fresco. . .”

Although he tended to zone out on the commentary, Lee had to admit the place was amazing, if only in sheer size, not to mention all the elaborate artwork in the canopy and the frieze. He found himself looking up and around, trying to figure out how someone might attack this high point of the Capitol complex. ‘Marble monstrosities,’ they’d said. “Francine!” he called out in a loud whisper, out of the corner of his mouth.

She came over to him and replied quietly, “Yes, Lee?”

“The dome. . .what about the dome, as a target?” he asked with urgency, keeping his voice low and darting his eyes from side to side to make sure they weren’t being watched.

She looked off to the side, considering his suggestion. “Well, it’s huge, and depending on when they brought it down, it could be devastating, but there’s just one thing. It’s not made of marble. The outer shell of the dome is cast iron.”

“True. . .” he agreed reluctantly, stretching out the word and casting a quick glance upward as he realized he might have missed something by not paying attention. Then he looked back to her and added with a bit of defiance, “But they might not know that!”

Keeping her back to the others, she looked at him with an air of superiority and said, “Lee, please! These people must’ve done their homework, and they know what it’s made of, and exactly how much of an explosive charge it will take to bring their targeted structure down. Trust me. They know.”

With a smile that was more akin to a grimace, he answered, “Okay, okay. . .we’ll forget the dome,” his eyes becoming slits as he strained out the words. Why had they decided on this ‘couple’ cover? They hadn’t been at it for twenty minutes yet, and he wasn’t sure he could endure the rest of the 45-minute tour, let alone the next two and a half days.

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