Conspiracy

23

Kjartan “Tommy” Magnor-Karr reached across the table and poured the last of the wine into his girlfriend’s glass.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, mister?” said Deidre Clancy.

“Nah. Just tipsy.”

Deidre smiled at him. Tommy Karr realized he was the one who was tipsy, though not on the wine.

“So tomorrow, we go to Disneyland Paris?” he said, picking up his glass.

“You came all the way to Paris to go to Disneyland?”

“I came all the way to Paris to see you,” said Karr. “Everything else is bonus.”

“You flatterer.”

Deidre told him in French that he was a sweet-talking foreigner whom she knew she must be careful of; Karr’s limited French allowed him to pick out every third word — the good ones, of course.

“How about the Louvre tomorrow?” she asked in English.

“With a picnic lunch in the Luxembourg Gardens?”

“Disney Thursday?”

“Disney Thursday.”

“Deal.”

As the word left Karr’s mouth, his sat phone began to vibrate.

“Uh-oh,” he said.

Deidre heard the buzzing. “I don’t suppose you could not answer it,” she said.

“I could ignore it. But then they’d send someone to chase me down. Which might be kinda fun.”

“You better answer it,” said Deidre.

Karr took the phone from his pocket and slid up the antenna.

“O’Brien’s Real Italian Delicatessen,” he said. “Mao Ze-dong speaking.”

“Tommy, it’s always fun to hear your voice,” said Marie Telach. “Can you talk freely?”

“Hey, Mom. Not really.”

“Good. I know you’re on vacation, but Mr. Rubens needs you to cut it short.”

“Gee, that sucks,” said Karr. He looked over at Deidre, who already wore a disappointed frown. “Right away?”

“Yes. We need you to meet Charlie in Tokyo tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow? Do I have a choice?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact you do. Would you prefer to fly on Aeroflot or Air France?”