Hot Pursuit

30

Millie had just arrived home from work when Quentin called.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, yourself. What happened today?”

Quentin related the details of his interview with Dr. Schmidt.

“So our Riis likes fast cars, good clothes, and expensive watches? I guess that’s a start.”

“Our lab is going through his file from Berkeley. We’ll see what they can come up with.”

“You think we have any hope of finding this guy?”

“There’s always hope. The Bureau is pretty good at finding people who don’t want to be found.”

“Yeah, even if it takes years — I read about that.”

“We’re more nimble than we used to be,” Quentin said defensively.

“Don’t tell me, show me.”

“I miss you,” he said.

“I know what you miss,” she replied with a laugh.

“I miss that, too. In fact, I miss the whole package. I’m still stunned with how great a Chinese cook you are.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Not until I’ve wrung California dry for Dr. Riis. His made-up background says he did his undergraduate work at UCLA. It made me think he might have spent some time there, though there’s no trace of a Jacob Riis there, of course.”

Millie’s cell phone rang, and caller ID said NSC. “I’ve got a call coming in from Holly. Talk to you later.”

“You sure will.” He hung up.

“Hello?”

“It’s Holly.”

“Hi.”

“Pack for a week. You’re going to London tomorrow morning.”

“No kidding?”

“I kid you not. The president is making a European tour to rub noses with the various leaders. She starts in London, and she wants me with her. A car will pick you up at six AM and take you to the airplane.”

“Am I going to need anything special in the way of clothes?”

“Sure, bring a riding habit for the foxhunting and a ball gown and a tiara, just in case.”

Millie laughed. “No kidding, what?”

“A business suit or two, a nice dress or two, and one knockout dress, in case we get asked out.”

“I just heard from the FBI.” She brought Holly up to date.

“Well, you’ve done such a good job of motivating the Bureau, we’ll see how you can do with MI6. See you on Air Force One.” Holly hung up.

Millie hung up; she jumped up and down for half a minute, making teenaged-girl noises, then she went to pack.

Millie’s first impression of the airplane was of its enormous size. She had flown aboard Boeing 747s — who hadn’t? But she had always entered the airplane through the boarding tunnel and had seen only that part of the interior in which she was seated. Now, after she was deposited at the bottom of the rear boarding steps, the giant airplane loomed over her. After someone took her luggage, someone else checked her name off a list, and someone else passed a security wand over her body, she was surprised at how long the climb up the stairs was. One engine was already running. She was directed past the press and security and guest areas forward to the senior staff area, which was over the wing root. Holly was already there, seated in a large chair, her briefcase open on the floor beside her, reading papers.

“Good morning,” Holly said. “What do you think?” She waved an arm around.

“‘Spectacular’ is the only word I can come up with.”

“Good word. The president will be aboard in ten minutes, and shortly after takeoff we’ll brief her in her office, up front.”

Millie nodded.

“I want her to know every step we’ve taken in the search for the Three Stooges, which is how I’ve come to think of our carefully cultivated moles. The twins are Larry and Curly, Dr. Riis is Moe.” Holly looked at her quizzically. “It’s just occurred to me that you are probably not old enough to know who the Three Stooges were.”

“I saw the movie about them on TV, and I watched a couple of shorts on the Internet, so I’ve got the general idea.”

“I’m always impressed by the depth and breadth of your knowledge,” Holly said.

“It’s the Harvard education. I have a question.”

“Spit it out.”

“You mentioned MI6, which is the foreign intelligence service. I would have thought we would be dealing with MI5, which covers the domestic side, like our FBI.”

“I suppose we could do it that way,” Holly replied, “but the people we’re looking for are foreign agents, and anyway, the president already has an established relationship with Dame Felicity Devonshire, the head of MI6, dating back to her time as director of Central Intelligence and before. They’re quite good friends.”

“I see.”

“It’s possible a name will come up in conversation: Stone Barrington.”

“I think I read something about him in Vanity Fair: New York lawyer, murdered wife?”

“That’s the one. As it happens, he is a friend of the president, of Dame Felicity, and of mine.”

“That’s an intriguing set of acquaintances,” Millie said. “I don’t suppose I should inquire as to the nature of those relationships?”

“You should not. You may recall that his name came up during the presidential campaign, when some people hinted at something intimate between Stone and the candidate. That was entirely false — they are, as the cliché goes, just good friends.”

“What about Dame Felicity and you?”

“As another cliché goes, none of your business.”

Millie nodded. “Got it.” She glanced out a window and was surprised to find that the big airplane was already moving. She had not even heard the second engine start. “I take it the president is aboard,” she said.

“The airplane always goes the moment she arrives.”

“No waiting around the airport lounge, huh?”

“Not even the VIP lounge. Fasten your seat belt.”

After a few minutes the seat belt sign went off and a woman appeared in the doorway. “The president will see you now.”

They followed her past a large galley and a room that seemed filled with medical equipment, then through a door and into the president’s airborne office, which would not have seemed large if it had not been on an airplane. Katharine Lee sat at her desk, tapping the keys of an Apple Air laptop. She looked up.

“Good morning, Holly, and good morning, Millie. Good to meet you. I’ve been hearing good things.”

“Good morning, Madam President,” Millie managed to say. She had not blushed since she was twelve, but she felt the warmth rising as she took a built-in seat next to Holly.

“Tell me about the Three Stooges,” Kate said. “What’s the latest?”

Holly gave her a summary and all the credit to Millie.

“That’s a very good start,” she said. “I’m having lunch with Dame Felicity Devonshire tomorrow, and I’d like you both there. She already knows about Larry and Curly. Millie, I’d like you to brief her on what we know about Moe.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Millie said. She and Holly rose and returned to their cabin. To Millie’s surprise, one of the three chairs was occupied by the secretary of state, former senator Sam Meriwether, who greeted them cordially.

Pretty good company you’re traveling in, Millie, she thought.