“Good morning.”
He put a cup of coffee on her desk. Something in his attitude seemed subtly changed. Mary was not sure what it was, but she had a feeling that Mike Slade knew all about her weekend. She wondered whether he had spies following her, reporting on her activities.
She took a sip of the coffee. Excellent, as usual. That’s one thing Mike Slade does well, Mary thought.
“We have some problems,” he said.
And for the rest of the morning they became involved in a discussion that included more Romanians who wanted to emigrate to America, the Romanian financial crisis, a marine who had got a Romanian girl pregnant, and a dozen other topics.
At the end of the meeting, Mary was more tired than usual.
Mike Slade said, “The ballet is opening tonight. Corina Socoli is dancing.”
Mary recognized the name. She was one of the leading ballerinas in the world.
“I have some tickets, if you’re interested.”
“No, thanks.” She thought of the last time Mike had given her tickets for the theater, and what had happened. Besides, she was going to be busy. She was invited to dinner at the Chinese embassy and was meeting Louis at the residence afterward. It would not do for them to be seen too much together in public. She knew that she was breaking the rules by having an affair with a member of another embassy. But this is not a casual affair.
As Mary was dressing for dinner, she opened her closet to take out a dinner gown and found that the maid had washed it instead of having it cleaned. It was ruined. I’m going to fire her, Mary thought furiously. Except that I can’t. Their damned rules.
She felt suddenly exhausted. She sank down on the bed. I wish I didn’t have to go out tonight. It would be so nice to just lie here and go to sleep. But you have to, Madam Ambassador. Your country is depending on you.
She lay there, fantasizing. She would stay in bed instead of going to the dinner party. The Chinese ambassador would greet his other guests, anxiously waiting for her. Finally, dinner would be announced. The American ambassador had not arrived. It was a deliberate insult. China had lost face. The Chinese ambassador would send a black cable, and when his prime minister read it, he would be furious. He would telephone the President of the United States to protest. “Neither you nor anyone else can force my ambassador to go to your dinners,” President Ellison would yell. The prime minister would scream, “No one can talk to me that way. We have our own nuclear bombs now, Mr. President.” The two leaders would press the nuclear buttons together, and destruction would rain on both countries.
Mary sat up and thought wearily, I’d better go to the damned dinner.
The evening was a blur of the same familiar diplomatic corps faces. Mary had only a hazy recollection of the others at her table. She could not wait to get home.
As Florian was driving her back to the residence, Mary smiled dreamily: I wonder if President Ellison realizes I prevented a nuclear war tonight?
The following morning when Mary went to the office, she was feeling worse. Her head ached, and she was nauseated. The only thing that made her feel better was the visit from Eddie Maltz.
The CIA agent said, “I have the information you requested. Dr. Louis Desforges was married for fourteen years. Wife’s name, Renée. Two daughters, ten and twelve, Phillipa and Genevieve. They were murdered in Algeria by terrorists, probably as an act of vengeance against the doctor, who was fighting in the underground. Do you need any further information?”
“No,” Mary said happily. “That’s fine. Thank you.”
Over morning coffee Mary and Mike Slade discussed a forthcoming visit from a college group.
“They’d like to meet President Ionescu.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Mary said. Her voice was slurred.
“You okay?”
“I’m just tired.”
“What you need is another cup of coffee. It will perk you up. No pun intended.”
By late afternoon, Mary was feeling worse. She called Louis and made an excuse to cancel their dinner engagement. She felt too ill to see anybody. She wished that the American doctor were in Bucharest. Perhaps Louis would know what was wrong with her. If I don’t get over this, I’ll call him.