"You have my permission," Bert said. "I hate those guys at Langley. They're all full of themselves, and p.r.i.c.ks in the bargain. They wouldn't admit to a rainstorm if they were standing in water up to their necks."

"I agree with Bert," Jack said. "What about you, Harry?"

"I train some of their top agents twice a year. They're okay guys, full of themselves, and their eyes are empty," Harry said. "The refresher course is coming up soon. All of my scheduling got screwed up while I was away."

As a group, they swooped in on Harry as they pelted him with questions. "Harry, I absolutely, truly, unequivocally love you with all my heart. We want names. Can you call those agents in and say something like you're going away and you need to up their time or something? I bet you even have some weeds or herbs you could put in that s.h.i.tty tea you make them drink to cleanse their digestive tract. You know, stuff that will make them spill their guts and not remember we grilled them. You can do that, right, Harry?"

"Eat s.h.i.t, Jack. That's against the law. The answer is no."

"Okay, then Bert and I will do it. We'll take the refresher course with them. I'm feeling the love here, Harry. I mean, I'm really feeling it. I knew you'd come through for us, buddy. Harry Wong, you are my knight in shining armor," Jack gushed.

Jack saw the squirrel on the terrace eyeing him as he sailed through the air and landed in a bush full of brilliant purple flowers. He picked up his bruised and battered body and hobbled his way back up to the terrace, where he made sure to stay as far away from Harry as he could. Though, to Harry's dismay, he made kissing cooing noises.

"I know you're always short on words, Harry, and going physical is your way of showing affection. I soooo love you, Harry," Jack said.

In spite of himself Harry burst out laughing.

Chapter 17.

Lizzie Fox arrived at Pinewood to a robust greeting just as dusk was settling. In the mad scramble to get to the kitchen from the terrace, silver and crystal flew in all directions. Charles, hoping for a little approval from his guests, had outdone himself with dinner, which he served on the terrace. He stood up with the boys and trailed into the kitchen. His heart felt warm and yet sad at the same time as he listened to the excitement Lizzie's visit generated. He squeezed his eyes shut when they started to burn. How could Hank have so misjudged these wonderful women and the bond they had? How? Even the boys, who admitted they knew nothing about the female mystique, understood what the women had missed in what the Sisters now referred to as their eighteen months of captivity.

And then they were all in the kitchen, the excitement still high as Lizzie whipped out picture after picture of Little Jack and described him and all his accomplishments right down to, "He does look like me but he has Cosmo's feet. Look how big they are for such a little guy, and he's starting to talk. He knows his name and everything. I want one of those pups for him. He loves animals. Will you part with one, Myra?"

"No, but I'll find one for you," Myra said when Little Lady's wet nose nudged her leg. She reached down to pat the golden's head to rea.s.sure her that her pups would indeed stay here at the farm and be part of her family.

Lizzie declined the dinner that Charles had kept warm in the oven. "I finally got my weight back to normal, so I have to maintain it, and I did eat on the plane. I would love some coffee, though."

Additional chairs were carried out to the terrace, where they all sat down around the large table. The girls pitched in, and within minutes, the table was clear and Charles was serving coffee.

It was a perfect evening for the beginning of August, not too warm, not too cool. A light breeze ruffled the canvas awning with little snapping sounds. The leafy branches of the old sycamores that lined the terrace whispered as the birds that nestled among the boughs prepared for the night. Jack and Ted fired up the hurricane lamps Charles had scattered around the terrace. The lamps gave off just enough mellow light that everyone looked golden and beautiful.

It was Myra who, after hearing about Lizzie's uneventful plane ride, brought the conversation around to the matter at hand. "Tell us what you think, dear."

"I've known Hank Jellicoe for a long time. Having said that, we all know that no one can ever really know someone, especially if that person doesn't want you to know their entire makeup. It's hard to believe he would do what you say he did, but I do believe you. Charles is right, too. Hank is one of the most patriotic people I have ever come across. Cosmo and I have discussed this ad nauseam, and we cannot come up with why Hank would go to such lengths to separate you. We both agreed it wasn't something Hank did on the spur of the moment; it took planning, lots and lots of planning. Cosmo thinks we need to start there to find out the why of it all. I agree with him.

"Off the top of my head, I'd say we need to go back in time to at least six weeks to two months before Hank made his offer to you to see what was going on in the covert world. Perhaps the group who hired you will be of some help. Maggie and Ted can also delve into world matters during that time. It might be something we in general wouldn't pick up on but a trained journalist will spot right away.

"Now, as to the offer the intelligence and law-enforcement services made to you. From what you all said on the phone, you want to go to work for them. I have to warn you, it's not the contractual slam dunk, where you just sign on the dotted line, that you might think it is. Look around you at your partners, and you'll know what I'm talking about. I can draw up an airtight contract, secure your monies for you in advance, but I have to tell you, your immunity with each service will only be as good as the country you are in. There is no doubt in my mind that they will pony up, collectively, kazillions of dollars to you, which I can transfer into a safe haven. If you go ahead with this, which seems to be your intention, and I know it isn't about the money, you can do a lot of good, charitable work in the world with that kind of money. I can't be certain of this, but I a.s.sume you will be working for the most part Stateside. You have no American contract here with a representative of the president, which means no blanket immunity. If you get caught, you are right back where you were before President Connor issued your pardons. You will not get a second bite of the apple this time around. It won't matter if the other leaders bring pressure to bear. Are you all following me?" Every head at the table nodded.

"Which now brings me to my next question. What is the time frame here? Do you even have one? I know you told the group you would give them your answer tomorrow; that's not the issue. I'm talking about the length of time for the mission."

"They didn't give us a time frame. But Nikki and I walked away with the impression that time was of the essence," Kathryn said. "We've been kicking this around all afternoon and came up with some ideas." She quickly outlined Maggie's idea with her two new columns in the Post. Lizzie nodded to show she approved.

Myra jumped in and explained about Nellie and Elias and rushed on to outline Bert's and Harry's roles. "Ted is going to start digging into the CIA and DHS. So if we get the ball rolling on all of that, we should have some news in a few days."

Lizzie nodded, but she was frowning. "How did you leave it as far as signing the contracts?"

"Ari Gold gave me a burn phone. I'm to call him, day or night. I a.s.sume that's when he will make arrangements for us to meet again. Or do you think a video conference will suffice?"

Lizzie's frown deepened as she visualized all the things that could go wrong. "I think you should ask for both. They're the ones who came to you, not the other way around. Stand firm and don't give in to anything unless it is to your benefit. Right now, getting on a plane and meeting in some foreign country or at thirty thousand feet is not to your advantage."

"We agree," Isabelle said, as the others nodded.

"I think before we agree to anything, we should ask where Jellicoe is hanging his hat these days," Annie said. "How many days do you think it will take before our plans bear some fruit?"

Everyone started to talk at once. When they ground to a halt, the consensus was that their labors should, if things went according to plan, bear fruit in four days.

"When are you planning to meet with President Connor, Lizzie?" Yoko asked.

"We're scheduled for a late-afternoon lunch tomorrow. She squeezed me in for two fifteen. She said she could give me forty minutes. In forty minutes, I should be able to find out something. I do not want you using that burn phone unless I'm within earshot. We need to be clear on that."

"Absolutely, dear," Myra said.

"What if the guys we're dealing with don't know or won't tell us where Jellicoe is?" Alexis asked.

"Then we'll find him on our own. Did you forget, girls, we can do anything we set our minds to?" Annie responded. "I don't know why I say this, but I think Mr. Hank Jellicoe will be coming to us. If not in person, then he'll have an emissary of some sort make contact. Do any of you care to make a wager?" No one did. Annie smiled.

Maggie and Ted stood up at the same time. "I think I'm going to head back to town. I want to do some work at the paper, so I'm good to go for tomorrow's edition. Ted will be working right alongside me."

Espinosa got to his feet, looked over at Alexis, who wagged her finger in Maggie's direction, a signal that he should follow them and she was staying at the farm.

Jack looked at Nikki while Bert fixed his gaze on Kathryn. "Go!" they said at the same time. Yoko smiled at Harry, who correctly interpreted the smile. He followed the others into the house.

Nikki looked at the gathering seated at the table, and said, "It's just temporary. We all want to stay for a few days to unwind, to get our second wind, so to speak, and to nestle in here at our original home base. Sharing a s.p.a.ce is what we all missed so much. Now that we have one back, we just want to enjoy it for a little while if it's okay with you, Myra."

Myra beamed and smiled from ear to ear. "I wouldn't have it any other way. This is what Charles and I so missed, too. You can stay as long as you like-forever if need be. We're family."

Hours later, the girls were still seated at the table on the terrace as they shared their tales of captivity. They talked about their relationships, the future, Little Jack, and what they would do with all the money they'd been promised. When Lizzie started to yawn, the group got up and called it a night.

Myra and Annie shooed the others inside, saying they would tidy up the terrace and the kitchen. Charles had gone below to the war room in full work mode hours ago.

When the terrace went silent, Annie and Myra sat down and looked at one another. "This would be a wonderful time to get schnockered, Myra. You know, to celebrate, but since you can't hold your liquor, would you like a gla.s.s of orange juice or a soft drink before we retire for the night? I have to admit, I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep."

"I feel so wired up, I know I won't be able to sleep, either. I have an idea, Annie. Let's take the golf cart out of the barn and drive over to Nellie's house. She never sleeps. Three heads are better than two."

"It still rankles, doesn't it, that Hank Jellicoe didn't consider you or me a threat to him? I have to tell you, Myra, that more than anything else, that really p.i.s.ses me off, and excuse my language," Annie said sourly.

Myra nodded. "Isn't it weird, Annie, how people, especially the younger ones, think that because you had the audacity to grow old, you no longer count? How did that happen? I never thought that way. I always thought aging was wonderful, what with all the knowledge you garnered along the way that you wanted to share. No one is asking us for our input, did you notice that? Well, they do in a roundabout way, but it isn't the same. Back in the beginning, they used to defer to me, even later when you came aboard, to listen to what we had to say. I'm babbling here, Annie, which means I am as disgruntled as you are. So, do we go over to Nellie's or not?"

"h.e.l.l, yes, but I'm driving. Did you ever find your gla.s.ses, Myra?"

"Bits and pieces-one of the pups chewed them up. It's all right, I have a spare somewhere. Let's go, and yes, you can drive."

Thirty minutes later, Annie brought the golf cart to a stop alongside the walk-through gate that Myra had the combination to. Retired federal court judge Nellie Easter had security out the wazoo, as she put it, thanks to the taxpayers and way too many threats on her life after she retired.

"She's up! The house is ablaze with light," Myra said.

"Yes, well, you better hope she doesn't meet us at the gate with that d.a.m.n gun she packs around with her. She shoots first and asks questions later. Elias just sleeps through it all."

"I heard that," Nellie said, stepping into a small pool of light next to the gate. "What in the name of G.o.d are you doing over here at this time of night? I could have shot you!"

"But you didn't, so what is the point in discussing this? We're coming in, so put that d.a.m.n gun away. By the way, how are you, Nellie?" Myra asked.

"These new hips of mine are working out pretty good. I can predict the weather within minutes of a storm, rain, cold, whatever. I'm better than any meteorologist you see on TV. What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

"Do you always have to be such a curmudgeon, Nellie? "We couldn't sleep. You never sleep. I rest my case," Annie snapped.

"How bad is the trouble you think you're in?" Nellie said, leading the way to the farmhouse she shared with Elias.

"We don't think, we know. Deep, deep, and dark brown," Annie quipped.

"Ah, that kind of trouble. I think that calls for a drink. You want to sit inside in the kitchen or outside on the deck?"

"Myra can't hold her liquor, Nellie, you know that. You should make her hot tea. I'll take some of that Wild Turkey you keep in the cabinet over the sink. The kitchen will work out just fine. Unless you think our conversation will wake up your husband."

"I can hold my liquor; don't pay attention to Annie, Nellie. I much prefer to have some of that Jim Beam with an ice cube. One ice cube. I hate diluted liquor. By the way, where is Elias?"

"Asleep, where else? I thought when I married him I was going to have companionship. After dinner he sits down and falls asleep. Then I have to wake him up at eleven o'clock to go to bed. It's a good thing I have all my cats, or I'd be starved for attention and devotion. Did I mention Elias takes a nap in the afternoon? He does. Did you marry that Fish person, Annie?"

"I did not! But I did play with him for a while. The whole experience was...interesting."

"In what way?" Nellie asked as she poured from two different bottles.

"I found out I still have what it takes. Don't look at me like that. I blew his socks off. Myra and I were just having a discussion on getting older. Aside from the fact that it sucks, I'm having a wonderful time," Annie said.

"Is that so?" Nellie asked as she peered at Annie over the rim of her gla.s.s. "You should maybe write an advice column. I bet that would be a big hit with the geriatric set."

"Guess that means you aren't getting any, what with Elias doing all that sleeping," Annie shot back. "Not to mention those two new hips of yours must limit your agility. Age is a number, Nellie, as well as a state of mind. Enough of this bulls.h.i.t. We didn't come over here in the middle of the night to discuss the aging process or our s.e.x lives. We have things we need to talk about. We're going to go back in business. The vigilantes are going to ride again. You on board or not? You do realize if you say no, I'll have to wrestle you for that gun and kill you."

"Oh, sweet Jesus, here we go again!"

Chapter 18.

Most people, Lizzie thought, would be in awe of this place, but the only thing she was in awe of these days was her son, Jack. Every waking hour of the day she was in awe of the little cherub she'd given birth to. Even at night, her dreams were full of her son. She smiled now just thinking of him.

She brought her rental car to a full stop, held out her credentials, and waited for the guard to give her the okay to drive through the gates at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. Having worked for the president for a limited time, she knew the drill and followed it to the letter.

Lizzie was dressed to the nines, as Annie would say, which simply meant that she'd dressed for the occasion, in a manner befitting the person she'd come to see. If anything, Lizzie Fox looked more beautiful than she'd ever looked. As Annie said, motherhood gave her a whole other look, one that said, Just you try and take me on. I'm a mother now! Her suit was a custom Armani, the color was called Misty Mountain. The outrageously priced Jimmy Choo shoes matched the suit perfectly. She didn't carry her handbag, but it, too, matched her outfit. Her silver hair was swept back and up, and held in place with diamond-studded combs, a gift from Cosmo. It was hard to tell which sparkled more, her hair or the brilliant diamonds. No model, famous or not, could hold a candle to Lizzie Fox as she strutted her stuff. Just for fun.

She saw the smiles, heard the silent whistles, enjoyed the looks of awe and envy, the airy waves. But only for a minute. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was Lizzie Fox, Attorney at Law. And she wasn't here at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue for a fashion show.

A Secret Service agent led her to the door of the president's personal quarters and rapped sharply. The door burst open, and Lizzie was literally dragged inside by the president, who hugged her so tight Lizzie thought she would explode. "I missed you, Lizzie. My G.o.d! How is it one person can grow more beautiful with each pa.s.sing day? d.a.m.n, Lizzie, I want a gallon of whatever it is you're taking."

Lizzie laughed as she kicked off her shoes. Martine Connor was already in her stocking feet. "This is the reason," Lizzie said, pulling a slim packet of pictures out of her pocket. "This is the guy responsible for whatever it is you're seeing in the new me. Tell me he isn't the most perfect baby, the most gorgeous little boy you've ever seen. Except for his big feet. Those he got from Cosmo." Lizzie giggled.

The president flipped through the pictures, her eyes misting. "He's everything you said he is, Lizzie. G.o.d, how I envy you. He looks just like you, too. Do you think his hair will stay that silvery color?"

"The doctor says yes. He's already had a bit of a haircut with manicure scissors. His hair is thick and so curly you can't get a comb through it."

The president linked her arm with Lizzie's. "I don't have to ask if you're happy. All I have to do is look at you, and I have my answer."

"Does that mean you aren't happy, Marti? Every day I look at the mail to see if there's an invitation to your wedding, but there isn't. What are you waiting for?" she teased lightly. "How come you aren't wearing that sparkler that can light up the world, or don't presidents wear jewelry on the job?" Lizzie's tone was still lighthearted, but her gaze was sharp and clear.

"That's a whole other story, my friend. We only have forty minutes, and we have already used up five of them, and they'll be serving lunch any minute now."

"As a new mother, I can mult.i.task. What that means, even though it isn't polite, is, I can eat and talk at the same time. Talk to me, Marti."

Martine Connor sat down at the table and waited for Lizzie to do the same thing. "There isn't going to be a wedding. There isn't even an engagement. At least that I know of. I have not seen or heard from Hank since the night he gave me the ring. I don't know why, but the press has given me a pa.s.s on it all. There haven't been any questions, no innuendoes, nothing. It's like that night never happened. Hank has not been to the White House in any capacity since that night."

"I don't understand. Why? What happened?"

"That makes two of us. I tried calling, writing. I did everything but beg. When the White House calls, most people would pick up. Not Hank Jellicoe. So my answer is, I don't know. Shhh, here's our food."

Lizzie looked down at the delectable crab cake. It sat on a nest of baby asparagus that was nestled next to slivers of bright orange carrots, covered in cracked black pepper. She knew she wouldn't eat a thing, and she also knew the president wasn't going to eat her lunch, either.

The minute the steward left the dining room, Lizzie leaned across the table and whispered, "Where is he? I haven't kept up that much on world news, but I think Cosmo would have told me if there was a crisis somewhere in the world. Because if there was, Hank would be smack in the middle of it."

The president chewed on her lower lip as she picked at and mashed the food on her plate. Her voice was so soft, Lizzie had to strain to hear the words. "Hank Jellicoe answers to no one, not even the president of the United States, Lizzie. You know that."

"Actually, Marti, I did not know that. I thought everyone in this world had to answer to someone at some point in time. You are the commander in chief of the greatest nation on earth. One of the perks should be that you can demand an audience with him. You control the CIA, the FBI. Put the word out and bring him in. If you think they can't do it, I know some people who could do it, but there would have to be some immunity in place."

"What? So I can look like a fool in front of the whole world! I-don't-think-so! Oh, my G.o.d, do you mean...? This isn't just a little lunch to show me your child's pictures, is it?"

Lizzie shrugged as she wondered where the president's indignation was. "So you're just going to do...nothing?"

"Well, I'm not wearing the ring. I keep moving it from place to place, and I don't know why. I have a rotten track record where men are concerned, you know that."

Lizzie did know that, but she wasn't about to mention it. "Look at me, Marti. It's just us here, me and you, and you know I can keep a secret. Can you think of any reason, outside of a personal one, why Hank would just let you hang and be humiliated like this?"

The president's face crumpled, and Lizzie knew she was close to tears. The change back to presidential mode happened so quick, Lizzie almost thought that what she had seen was a figment of her imagination. "Lizzie, you know I can't discuss those kinds of things with you. I'm sorry. Please don't take it personally."

"Absolutely not. I bet this was a really good lunch. Chesapeake crab cakes. Cosmo would go over the moon if he were here."