Iron Orchid

FIFTY-NINE

WILL LEE WAS IN BED, watching a DVD of Casablanca, when Kate came home from work.

“You’re pretty late,” he said. “I didn’t know people at your level of government service worked after midnight.”

Kate dropped her clothes on the floor and crawled into bed with him, snuggling her warm body against his. “Why, Mr. President, you’re not wearing any clothes.”

He groped around. “Why, Madame Director, neither are you.”

“Hang on,” she said. “I’ve got some news that will put you in the mood.”

“I don’t need any news to get in the mood,” he said, turning toward her, “but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“You’re right. It was Teddy Fay who shot Ali ben Saud this morning, then blew up an office building under construction across the street from the U.N.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I just thought you’d like it confirmed. What you don’t know is that they found Teddy Fay’s body in the wreckage of the building, along with the homemade gun he used.”

“So, it’s over?”

“It’s over.”

“Are we going to announce anything?”

“I’m certainly not, and you’re crazy, if you do. Tell your congressional leaders and tell them to sit on it.”

“What happens if they don’t?”

“Then they’re guilty of hiding the whole business from the American people.”

“I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this.”

“You made that decision weeks ago, pal; learn to live with it.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Now can I molest you?”

“You’d better.”

They reached for each other.