Windmills of the Gods

Chapter Eight

THE day Beth and Tim were to start school, Mary got a call at five a.m. from the embassy that a NIACT-A night action cable-had come in and required an immediate answer. It was the start of a long and busy day, and by the time Mary returned to the residence, it was after seven p.m. The children were waiting for her.
"Well," Mary asked, "how was school?"
"I like it," Beth replied. "Did you know there are kids there from twenty-two different countries? This neat Italian boy kept staring at me all through class. It's a great school."
"They've got a keen science laboratory," Tim added. "Tomorrow we're going to take some Remanian frogs apart."
"well, I'm glad you had no problems."
Beth said, "No, Mom. Mike Slade took care of us."
"What does Mike Slade have to do with your going to school?"
"Didn't he tell you? He took us there and introduced us to our teachers. He knows them all."
"He knows a lot of kids there too," Tim said. "And he introduced us to them. Everybody likes him. He's a neat guy."
A little too neat, Mary thought.
THE following morning when Mike walked into Mary's office, she said, "I understand that you took Beth and Tim to school."
He nodded. "It's tough for youngsters, trying to adjust in a foreign country. They're good kids. And speaking of kids, we have a sick one here you'd better take a look at "
He led her to a small office down the corrido;. On the couch was a white-faced young marine, groaning in pain.
"What happened?" Mary asked.
"My guess is appendicitis."
"Then we'd better get him to a hospital right away."
"Not here. He has to be flown either to Rome, Zurich, or Frankfurt. No one from an American embassy ever goes to a hospital in an iron curtain country.
"But why?"
"Because we're vulnerable. We could be put under either or given scopolamine. They could extract all kinds of information from us. It's a State Department rule. We fly him out."
"Why don't we have our own doctor?" Mary snapped.
"Because we're a C-category embassy. We haven't the budget for our own doctor. An American doctor pays us a visit here once every three months. In the meantime, we have a pharmacist for minor aches and pains." He picked up a form from the desk. "Just sign this, and he's on his way."
"Very well." Mary signed the paper. She walked over to the young marine and took his hand in hers. "You're going to be fine , she said softly. "Just fine."
Two hours later the marine was on a plane to Frankfurt.
MARY SPENT EVERY possible MOMENT she could with the children. They did a lot of sight-seeing. There were dozens of museums and old churches to visit, but for the children the highlight was the trip to Dracula's castle in Brasoy, located in the heart of Transylvania, a hundred miles from Bucharest.
"The,countThe count was really a prince," Florian explained on the drive
up. nnce Vlad Tepes. He was the great hero who stopped the Turkish invasion."
"I thought he just sucked blood and killed people," Tim said.
Florian nodded. "Yes. Unfortunately, after the war Vlad's power went to his head. He became a dictator, and he impaled his enemies on stakes. The legend grew that he was a vampire. An Irishman named Bram Stoker wrote a book based on the legend. A silly book, but it has done wonders for tourism."
Bran Castle was a huge stone monument high in the mountains. They climbed the steep stone steps leading to the castle and went into a low-ceilinged room containing guns and ancient artifacts.
"This is where Count Dracula murdered his victims and drank their blood," the guide said in a sepulchral voice.
The room was damp and eerie. A spiderweb brushed across Tim's face. "I'm not scared or anything," he said to his mother, "but can we get out of here?"
EVERY morning when Mary rode to work, she noticed long lines of people outside the gates waiting to get into the consular section of the embassy. She had taken it for granted that they were people with minor problems they hoped the consul could solve. But one morning she went to the window to take a closer look, and the expressions she saw on their faces compelled her to go into Mike's office.
"Who are all those people waiting in line outside?"
Mike walked with her to his window. "They're mostly Romanian Jews. They're waiting to file applications for visas."
"But there's an Israeli embassy in Bucharest."
"They think there's less of a chance of the Remanian security people finding out their intention if they come to us. They're wrong, of course." He pointed out the window. "That apartment house has several flats filled with agents using telescopic lenses,
photographing everybody who goes in -and out of the embassy."
"That's terrible!"
"That's the way they play the game. When a Jewish family applies for a visa to emigrate, they lose their green job cards and they're thrown out of their apartments. Then it takes three to four years before the government will tell them whether they'll even get their exit papers, and the answer is usually no."
"Can't we do something about it?"
"We try all the time. But Ionescu enjoys playing a cat-andmouse game with the Jews. Very few of them are ever allowed to leave the country."
Mary looked out at the expressions of hopelessness on their faces. "There has to be a way," she said.
"Don't break your heart," Mike told her, handing her a mug of coffee.
What a cold man, Mary thought. I wonder if anything ever touches him. I'm going to do something to help the Jews, she promised herself.
Mike sat down at his desk. "There's a Remanian folk dance company opening tonight. They're supposed to be pretty good. Would you like to go?"
Mary was taken by surprise. The last thing she had expected was for Mike to invite her out.
And now, even more incredibly, she found herself saying yes.
"Good." Mike handed her a small envelope. "Here are three tickets. You can take Beth and Tim, courtesy of the Romaniari government. We get tickets to most of their openings."
Mary stood there, her face flushed, feeling like a fool. "Thank you," she said stiffly.
"I'll have Florian pick ypu up at eight o'clock."
BETH and Tim were not interested in going to the theater. Beth had invited a schoolmate for dinner. "It's my Italian friend," she said.
"To tell you the truth, I've never really cared much for folk dancing," Tim added.
Mary laughed. "I'll let you two off the hook this time."
She wondered if the children were as lonely as she was. She thought about whom she could invite to go with her, mentally running down the list: Colonel McKinney, jerry Davis, Harriet Kruger. There was no one she really wanted to be with. I'll go alone, she decided.
The folk theater, anornate relic of more tranquil times, was on Rasodia Roman, a bustling street filled with small stands selling flowers, plastic slippers, blouses, and pens. The entertainment was boring, the costumes tawdry, and the dancers awkward. The show seemed interminable, and when it was finally over, Mary was glad to escape into the fresh night air. Florian was standing by the limousine, in front of the theater.
"I'm afraid there will be a delay, Madam Ambassador. A flat tire. And a thief has stolen the spare. I have sent for one. It should be here in the next hour. Would you like to wait in the car?"
Mary looked up at the full moon. The evening was crisp and clear. She realized she had not taken a walk in the month since she had arrived in Bucharest. "I think I'll walk back."
She turned and started down the street toward the central square. Bucharest was a fascinating, exotic city. Even at this late hour most of the shops were open, and there were queues at all of them. Coffee shops were serving gogoage, the delicious Romanian doughnuts. The sidewalks were crowded with late-night shoppers carrying pungi, the string shopping bags. It seemed to Mary that the people were ominously quiet. They were staring at her, the women avidly eyeing her clothes. She began to walk faster. When she reached a street called Calea Victorier, she stopped, unsure of which direction to take. She said to a passerby, "Excuse me-" He gave her a quick, frightened look and hurried off.
How was she, going to get back? It seemed to her that the residence was somewhere to the east. She began walking in that direction. Soon she was on a small, dimly lit side street. In the fat distance she could see a broad, well-lit boulevard. I can get a taxi there, Mary thought with relief.
There was the sound of heavy footsteps behind her, and she turned. A large man in an overcoat was coming toward her.
"Excuse me," the man called out in a heavy Remanian accent.
"Are you lost?"
She was filled with relief He was probably a policeman. "Yes," she said gratefully. "I want to go back to-"
There was the sudden roar of a car racing up behind her and then the squeal of brakes. The pedestrian in the overcoat grabbed Mary. She could smell his hot, fetid breath and feel his fat fingers bruising her wrist. He started pushing her toward the open door of the ear. "Get in!" the man growled.
"No!," Mary was fighting to break free, and screaming, "Help! Help me!"
There was a shout from across the street, and a figure came racing toward them. The man who had accosted her stopped, unsure of what to do.
The stranger yelled, "Let go of her!" He grabbed the man in the overcoat and pulled him away from Mary. She found herself suddenly free.
The man behind the wheel got out of the car to help his accomplice, but then from the far distance came the sound of an approaching siren, and the two men leaped into the car and it sped away.
A blue-and-white car with the word militia on the side and a flashing light on top pulled up in front of Mary. Two men in uniform hurried out. In Remanian one of them asked, "Are you all right?" And then in halting English, "What happened?"
Mary was fighting to get herself under control. "Two men. They-they tr-tried to force me into their car. If-if it hadn't been for this gentleman-" She turned around. But the stranger was gone.
MARY fought all night long, struggling to escape the men, waking in a panic, falling back to sleep and waking again. She kept reliving the scene. Had they known who she was? Or were they merely trying to rob a tourist?
When Mary arrived at her office, Mike Slade was waiting for her as usual. He brought in two cups of coffee and sat down across from, her. The coffee was delicious, and she realized that having .coffee with Mike had become a morning ritual.
"How was the theater?" he asked.
"Fine." The rest was none of his business.
"Did you get hurt when they tried to kidnap you?"
"I- How do you know about that?"
His voice was filled with irony. "Madam Ambassador, Remania is one big open secret. It wasn't very clever of you to go for a stroll by yourself."
"I'm aware of that now. It won't happen again."
"Good." His tone was brisk.,"Did they take anything?"
"No."
He frowned. "It makes no sense. If they had wanted your coat or purse, they could have taken them -from you on the street. Trying. to force you into a car means it was a kidnapping."
"Who would want to kidnap me?"
"It wouldn't have been Ionescu's men. He's trying to keep our relations on an even keel. It would have to be some dissident group." He took a sip of his coffee. "May I give you some advice?"
"I'm listening."
"Go home."
"What?"
Mike Slade put down the cup. "Send in a letter of resignation, pack up your kids, and go back to Kansas', where you'll be safe."
Mary could feel her face getting red. "Mr. Slade, I made a mistake. It's not the first one I've made, and it probably won't be the last one. But I was appointed to this post by the President of the United States, and until he fires me, I don't want you or anyone else telling me to go home." She fought to keep control of her voice. "I expect the people in this embassy to work with me, not against me. If That's too much for you to handle, why don't you go home?"
Mike Slade stood up. "I'll see that the morning reports are put on your desk, Madam Ambassador."
The attempted kidnapping was the sole topic of conversation at the embassy that morning. How had everyone found out? Mary wondered. And how had Mike Slade found out? Mary wished she could have learned the name of her rescuer so that she could thank him. In the quick glimpse she had had of him, she had gotten the impression of an attractive man, probably in his early forties. He had had a foreign accent.
An idea started to gnaw at Mary, and it was hard to dismiss. The only person she knew of who wanted to get rid of her was Mike Slade. What if he had set up the attack to frighten her into leaving? He had given her the theater tickets. He had known where she would be.
THERE was a cocktail party at the French embassy that evening in honor of a visiting French concert pianist. Mary was tired and nervous, but she knew she had to go.
When she arrived, the embassy was already crowded with guests. As she was exchanging pleasantries with the ambassador .She caught sight of the stranger who had rescued her from the kidnappers. He was standing in a corner talking to the Italian ambassador and his aide.
"Please excuse me," Mary said, and moved Across the room toward her rescuer.
He was saying, "Of course I miss Paris, but I hope-" He broke off as he saw Mary approaching. "Ah, the lady in distress."
"You know each other?" the Italian ambassador asked. "We haven't been officially introduced," Mary replied. "Madam Ambassador, may I present Dr. Louis Desforges."
The expression on the Frenchman's face changed. "Madam Ambassador? I beg your pardon! I had no idea." His voice was filled with embarrassment. "I should have recognized you."
"You did better than that." Mary smiled. "You saved me."
The Italian ambassador looked at the doctor and said, "Ahl So you were the one." He turned to Mary. "I, heard about your unfortunate experience."
"It would have been unfortunate if Dr. Desforges hadn't come along. Thank you."
Louis Desforges smiled. "I'm happy that I was in the right place at the right time."
The ambassador saw an English contingent enter and said, "If you will excuse us, there is someone we have to see."
He and his aide hurried off. Mary was alone with the doctor.
"Why did you run away when the police came?" she asked.
He studied her a moment. "It is not good policy to get involved with the ]Remanian police. They have a way of arresting witnesses, then pumping them for information. I'm a doctor attached to the French embassy here, and I don't have diplomatic enununity. I do, however, know a great deal about what goes on at our embassy."
He smiled. "So forgive me if I seemed to desert you."
There was a directness about him that was very appealing. In some way that Mary could not define, he reminded her of Edward. Perhaps because Louis Desforges was a doctor. But no, it was more than that. He had the same openness that Edward had had, almost the same smile.
"If you'll excuse me," Dr. Desforges said, "I must go and become a social animal."
"You don't like parties?"
He winced. "I despise them."
"Does your wife enjoy them?"
"Yes, she did. Very much." He hesitated, then said, "She and our two children are dead."
Mary paled. "Oh, I'm so sorry. How His face was rigid. "I blame myself. We were living in Algeria. I was in the underground, fighting the terrorists." His words became slow and halting. "They found out my identity and blew away the house. I was away at the time."
"I'm so sorry," Mary said again. Hopeless, inadequate words.
"There is a cliche that time heals everything. I no longer believe it." His voice was bitter. He looked at her and said, "If you will excuse me, Madam Ambassador." He turned and walked over to greet a group of arriving guests.
He does remind me a little of Edward, Mary thought again. He's a brave man. He's in a lot of pain, . and I think That's what draws me to him. I'm in pain too. Will I ever get over missing you, Edward? It's so lonely here.
THE following day Mary could not get Dr. Louis Desforges out of her mind. He had saved her life and then disappeared. She was glad she had found him again. On an impulse she bought a beautiful silver bowl for him and had it sent to the French embassy. It was a small enough gesture after what he had done.
That afternoon Dr. Desforges telephoned. "Good afternoon, Madam Ambassador." The phrase sounded delightful in his French accent. "I called to thank you for your thoughtful gift. I assure you that it was unnecessary. I was delighted that I was able to be of some service."
"It was more than just some service," Mary told him.
There was a pause. "Would you-" He stopped.
"Yes?" Mary prompted.
"Nothing, really." He sounded suddenly shy. "I was wondering if you might care to have dinner with me one evening, but I know how busy you must be and-"
"would love to," Mary said quickly.
"Really? Are you free tomorrow night?"
"I have a party at six, but we could go after that."
"Ah, splendid."
They agreed to meet at the Taru Restaurant at eight o'clock.
IN THE limousine on the way to the restaurant the next evening Mary asked Florian to stop at the embassy. She had left a silk scarf in her office and wanted to pick it up.
Gunny was on duty at the desk. He stood at attention and saluted her. Mary went up the stairs to her office and turned on the light. She stood there, frozen. On the wall someone had sprayed in red paint GO HOME BEFORE YOU DIE. She backed out of the room, white-faced, and ran down to the lobby. "Gunny. Wh-who's been in my office?" she demanded.
"Why, no one that I know of, ma'am."
"Let me see your roster sheet." She tried to keep her voice from quavering.
"Yes, ma'am." Gunny pulled out the visitors' access sheet and handed it to her. Each name had the time of entry listed after it. She started at five thirty, the time she had left the office, and scanned the list. There were a dozen names.
Mary looked up at the marine guard. "Were all the people on this list escorted to the offices they visited?"
"Always, Madam Ambassador. No one goes up to the second floor without an escort. Is something wrong?"
Something was very wrong.
Mary said, "Please send someone to my office to paint out that obscenity on the wall."
She turned and hurried outside, afraid she was going to be sick.
DR. Louis DESFORGES was waiting for Mary when she arrived .at the restaurant. He stood up as she approached the table.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Mary tried to sound normal. She wished she had not come. She pressed her hands together to keep them from trembling.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm fine." Go home before you die. "I think I'd like a straight Scotch, please."
The doctor ordered drinks, then said, "It can't be easy being an ambassador in this country-especially for a woman. Remanians are male chauvinists, you know."
Mary forced a smile. "Tell me about yourself " Anything to take her mind off the threat.
"I am afraid there is not much to tell that is exciting."
"You mentioned that you fought in the underground in Algeria. That sounds exciting."
He shrugged. "We live in terrible times. I believe that every man must risk something so that in the end he does not have to risk everything. The terrorist situation is literally that-terrifying. We must put an end to it." His voice was filled with passion.
He's like Edward, Mary thought. Edward was always passionate about his beliefs.
"If I had known that the price would be the lives of my family-" He stopped. His knuckles were white against the table. "Forgive me. I did not bring you here to talk about my troubles. Let me recommend the lamb. They do it very well here."
He ordered dinner and a bottle of wine, and they talked. Mary began to relax, to forget the frightening warning painted in red. She was finding it surprisingly easy to talk to this attractive Frenchman. In an odd way it was like talking to Edward. It was amazing how she and Louis shared so many of the same beliefs and felt the same way about so many things. Louis Desforges was born in a small town in France, and Mary was born in a small town in Kansas, thousands of miles apart, and yet their backgrounds were similar. His father had been a farmer and had scrimped and saved to send Louis to a medical school in Paris.
"My father was a wonderful man, Madam Ambassador."
"Mary."
"Thank you, Mary."
She smiled. "You're welcome, Louis."
Mary wondered what his personal life was like. He was handsome and intelligent. "Have you thought of getting married again?" She could not believe she had asked him that.
He shook his head. "No. My wife was a remarkable woman. No one could ever replace her."
That's how I feel about Edward, Mary thought. And yet it was not really a question of replacing a beloved one. It was finding someone new to share things with.
Louis was saying, "So when I was offered the opportunity, I thought it would be interesting to visit Remania." He lowered his voice. "I confess I feel an evilness about this country. Not the people. They are lovely. But the government is everything I despise. There is no freedom here for anyone." He glanced around to make sure no one could overhear. "I shall be glad when my tour of duty is over and I can return to France."
Without thinking, Mary heard herself saying, "There are some people who think I should go home."
"I beg your pardon?"
And suddenly Mary found herself telling him about the paint scrawl on her office wall.
"But that is horrible! You have no idea who did this?"
"No."
Louis said, "May I make an impertinent confession? Since I found out who you were, I have been asking questions. Everyone who knows you is very impressed with you."
She was listening to him with intense interest.
"You have brought here an image of America that is beautiful and intelligent and warm. If you believe in what you are doing, then you must fight for it. You must stay. Do not let anyone frighten you away." It was just what Edward would have said.
THE following morning Mike Slade brought in two cups of coffee. He nodded at the wall where the message had been painted. "I hear someone has been spraying graffiti on your walls."
"Yes. Have they found out who did it?"
Mike took a sip of coffee. "No. I went through the visitors' list myself Everyone is accounted for."
"That means it must have been someone here in the embassy."
"Either that, or someone managed to sneak in past the guards."
"Do you believe that?"
Mike put down his coffee cup. "Nope."
"Neither do I."
"What exactly did it say?"
"'Go home before you die."' He made no comment.
"Who would want to kill me?"
"I don't know. But we're doing everything we can to track down whoever it is. In the meantime, I've arranged for a marine guard to be posted outside your door at night."
"Mr. Slade, I would appreciate a straight answer. Do you think I'm in any real danger?"
He studied her thoughtfully. "Madam Ambassador, they, assassinated Abrahwn Lincoln, John Kennedy, Martin Luther King, and Marin Groza. We're all vulnerable. The answer to your question is yes."
THREE days later Mary had dinner again with Dr. Louis Desforges. He seemed more relaxed with her this time, and although the core of sadness she sensed within him was still there, he took pains to be attentive and amusing. Mary wondered if he felt the same attraction toward her that she felt toward him.
After dinner when Louis took Mary back to the residence, she asked, "Would you like to come in?"
"Thank you," he said. "I would."
The children were downstairs doing their homework, and Mary introduced them to Louis.
He bent down before Beth and said, "May I?" And he put his arms around her and hugged her. He straightened up. "One of my little girls was three years younger than you. The other one was about your age. I'd like to think they would have grown up to be as pretty as you are, Beth."
Beth smiled. "Thank you. Where are-"
"would you all like some hot chocolate?" Mary asked hastily.
The four of them sat in the huge kitchen drinking the hot chocolate and talking.
The children were utterly enchanted with Louis. He focused entirely on them, telling them stories and anecdotes and jokes until he had them roaring with laughter.
It was almost midnight when Mary looked at her watch. "Oh, no! You children should have been in bed hours ago. Scoot."
Tim went over to Louis. "Will you come see us again?"
"I hope so, Tim."
Mary saw Louis to the door. He took her hand in his. "They're beautiful children." His voice was husky. "I won't try to tell you what this evening has meant to me, Mary."
"I'm glad." She was looking into his eyes, and she felt him moving toward her. She raised her lips.
"Good night, Mary." And he was gone.
DAvm Victor, the commerce consul, hurried into Mary's office. "I have some very bad news. I just got a tip that President Ionescu is going to approve a contract with Argentina for a million and a half tons of corn, and with Brazil for half a million tons of soybeans. We were counting heavily on their buying from us."
"How far have the negotiations gone?"
"They're almost concluded. We've been shut out. I was about to send a cable to Washington-with your approval, of course."
"Hold off a bit," Mary said. "I want to think about it."
"You won't get President Ioneseu to change his mind. Believe me, I've tried every argument I could think of."
"Then we have nothing to lose if I give it a try." She buzzed her secretary. "Dorothy, get me the presidential palace."
ALExomRos Ionescu invited Mary to the palace for lunch. As she entered she was greeted at the door by Nicu, his fourteenyear-old son. He was a handsome boy, tall for his age, with beautiful black eyes and a flawless complexion.
"Good afternoon, Madsen Ambassador," he said. "I am Nicu. Welcome to the palace. I have heard very nice things about you."
"Thank you. I'm pleased to hear that, Nicu."
"I will tell my father you have arrived."
MARY AND IONESCU SAT ACROss from each other in the formal dining room, just the two of them. The President had been drinking and was in a mellow mood. He lit a Snogoy, the vile-smelling Remanian cigarette.
"Mr; President," said Mary, "I was eager to meet with you, because there is something important I would like to discuss with you."
Ionescu almost laughed aloud. He knew exactly why she had come. The Americans wished to sell him corn and soybeans, but they were too late. The American ambassador would go away empty-handed this time. Too bad. Such an attractivewoman.
"Yes?" he said innocently.
"I want to talk to you about sister cities."
lonescu blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Sister cities. You know, like San Francisco and Osaka, Los Angeles and Bombay, Washington and Bangkok. . . ."
"-don't understand. What does that have to do with-"
"Mr. President, it occurred to me that you could get headlines all over the world if you made Bucharest a sister city of some American city. It would get almost as much attention as President Ellison's people-to-people plan."
He said cautiously, "A sister city with a city in the United States? It is an interesting idea. What would it involve?"
"Mostly, wonderful publicity for you. You would be a hero. It would be your idea. You would pay the city a visit. A delegation from Kansas City would pay you a visit."
Kansas City?"
"That's just a suggestion, of course. Kansas City is Middle America. There are farmers there, like your farmers. Mr. President, your name will be on everyone's lips. No one in Europe has thought of doing this."
He sat there, silent. "I- I would naturally have to give this a great deal of thought."
"Naturally."
"Kansas City, Kansas, and Bucharest, Remania." He nodded. "We are a much larger city, of course."
"Of course. Bucharest would be the big sister."
"I must admit it is a very intriguing idea." Your name will be on everyone's lips. "Is there any chance of a rejection from the American side?" Ioneseu asked.
"Absolutely none. I can guarantee it."
He sat there reflecting. "When would this go into effect?"
"Just as soon as you're ready to announce it. I'll handle our end."
Ionescu thought. of something else. "We could set up a trade exchange with our sister city. Remania has many things to sell. Tell me, what crops does Kansas grow?"
"Among other things," Mary said quietly, "corn and soybeans."
"You really made the deal? You actually fooled him?" David Victor asked incredulously.
"Not for a minute," Mary assured him. "loneseu knew what I was after. He just liked the package I wrapped it in. You can go in and close the deal. He's already rehearsing his television speech."
WHEN Stanton Rogers heard the news, he telephoned Mary. "You're a genius." He laughed. "We thought we'd lost that deal. How in the world did you do it?"
"Ego," Mary said. "His."
"The President asked me to tell you what a really great job you're doing over there, Mary."
"Thank him for me, Stan."
"I will. By the way, the President and I are leaving for China in a few weeks. If you need me, you can get in touch with me.
through my office."
"Have a wonderful trip."