Veil of Civility

Chapter Sixty-Two

Lane Simard sat alone in the backseat of the black, late model Range Rover that the United States Government provided him in his duties as the Central Intelligence Agency's London station chief. He watched through the tinted windows as the four man team of youthful agents that were in charge of his security and transportation entered the two story Tudor-style farmhouse he was preparing to spend a rare vacation in.

The house sat at the end of a mile long lane called Baggins Road, an undoubted reference to the author, Tolkien. The house belonged to the family of an English couple whom he and his wife had made friends with during their four year stay in London and who had graciously offered the country estate for his use on several occasions. The rigors of his work often kept him away for several weeks at a time and he was looking forward to spending a relaxing few days with his family when they joined him later in the evening.

"All set, sir," one of the young agents said, as he opened the rear passenger side door for Simard. "We've scanned the entire house. It's clean."

Simard knew the man meant that the home had been found to be free of any kind of listening devices and even though he wasn't planning on making or receiving any sensitive phone calls, such conversations were always a possibility in his line of work.

"Thank you," he said, as he stepped from the car and walked towards the arched front door. "I want two of you posted at the end of the lane with one of the SUVs and waiting for my family to arrive. They're being driven down from London in a few hours."

"Yes, sir," the man said, as he opened the home's front door and stood aside. "Myself and Agent Fuller will handle it."

Simard nodded and entered the house. He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket as he entered the spacious, stone walled kitchen and withdrew it as he stepped through an archway and into the home's living area.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Simard, David Kemiss," the voice on the other end said. "You're a hard man to surprise."

"Good evening, Senator," Simard said, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the level of friendliness in Kemiss' voice. The seasoned politician had, to date, never been anything other than abrupt, sometimes bordering on insulting. "How can I help you?"

"Oh, you've already helped me a great deal and I wanted to express my gratitude. I sent a gift to your London residence, but the delivery company was told you had left for a few days."

"Well, thank you, Senator. That's a great gesture. I'm away from London for a vacation with my family. I'll look forward to receiving your gift when I return."

"I'm afraid by then it won't be much good. Perhaps I could have the delivery company bring it to your getaway? You and your wife could enjoy it during your well-deserved vacation."

Simard didn't like the thought of someone coming to the farmhouse but, as his mind raced to think of a good excuse to refuse the offer, he settled on the notion that saying "no" to the senator would be a bad idea. "That would be great, thank you. I don't know the exact address, but I'm at a farmhouse in Kent, it's two miles south of the M2 motorway near Faversham. It's the only house on Baggins Road and it's at the very end. They can't miss it. I'll have one of my men meet them out front."

"Beautiful area, my wife and I visited there some years back. I hope you enjoy your stay. I'll notify the delivery company immediately. Thank you again for everything you've done for me, and for your country."

Simard nodded, though he knew Kemiss couldn't see him. "My pleasure, sir."

He felt a swell of pride at being personally thanked by such a high-ranking member of his country's government, even though all he had done was his job. He listened as Kemiss hung up before he closed the phone and returned it to his pocket. Climbing the home's narrow wooden staircase, he entered a hallway and made an immediate left into the study, which overlooked the gravel driveway leading into the property. He removed some papers from his briefcase along with a copy of a book by one of his favorite authors. Setting the papers down on the desk before loosening his tie and removing his shoes, he took a seat in the leather chair next to the room's picture window. Without meaning to be, he was asleep within a few minutes.

He awakened suddenly as he heard the front door of the farmhouse slam closed. Glancing at his watch, he stood and looked through the window. Judging from the faint orange glow to the west that illuminated the green shrubbery along the driveway, the sun was just about to set for the day. He leaned over and placed his hands on the window sill, admiring for a moment the majestic evening that was just beginning. His thoughts were interrupted as he noticed a pair of headlights coming down the drive. Was it time for his family to arrive already? He smiled and thumped his closed fist against the sill victoriously before turning to exit the room.