Before leaving Langley, Alex spent some time with a man named Thomas Meachum in the Technical Resources Division. Meachum was in charge of preparing her documents for her trip. Meachum led her through a photo area where new passport and license photos were taken. In keeping with normal procedure, Alex changed her hair and her expression from shot to shot. Tech Resources also had a variety of women’s blouses and tops to change in and out of. For her driver’s license, she wore a summer tank top. For her passport, an office-style blue blouse with a jacket.
She was equally careful to remove the pendant from around her neck, the one with the praying hands that she had acquired in Venezuela. Then, giving it greater thought later in the day when she returned home, she placed the pendant in her jewelry box. No point in taking extra chances and risk identification through a unique piece of jewelry. For the duration of the case, she would do without it.
The next morning, Alex selected an itinerary to Cairo.
While she would have loved to have chosen a direct nonstop from the United States, she reserved, instead, a seat on an Air Canada flight to Toronto from Washington. From there she found a pair of Alitalia flights that would pass through Rome. She kept her reasons to herself for that specific route. The Agency allowed her to book herself through in business class rather than the dreadful economy class that had recently turned into a form of latter-day steerage.
She left her apartment and went to a newsstand. She purchased fifty dollars’ worth of phone cards. Then she walked several blocks until she found a coffee shop where she had never been before. Making sure no one was on her trail or able to listen in on her cell phone, she used a public phone and called Joseph Collins in New York. With regret, she confirmed that her impending visit to Venezuela would have to wait until early the following year. Collins had no issues with that. She also asked, as a special favor, if she could lodge a close friend at the East 21st Street apartment.
“Who’s the friend?” he asked.
“A girl who’s in a bit of trouble with some bad people,” Alex said. “She needs a place to stay out of view.”
“Well, as I mentioned, my son is out of the country for another several months,” Collins said. “I’m sure it will be no problem.”
She then phoned Don Tomas and asked Janet to pack immediately. Alex would be away indefinitely, she explained, but there was someplace safer that Janet could stay.
She had one more call. This one would max out one of her phone cards. The call went to Rome where she arranged to have a dining companion on the evening she would be passing through the Italian capital.
Alex accompanied Janet to the bank, where she withdrew enough money for a month. In the afternoon, Alex purchased a new cell phone and paid cash in advance for three month’s service. She gave the new device to Janet.
Later in the day she and Janet crowded into the backseat of her car and kept low to avoid any watchers. Don Tomas drove them to Union Station in Washington where they took a train to New York. In the station Alex visited a locksmith and duplicated the keys to Christopher Collins’ apartment. Then they took a cab to 21st Street. Alex installed Janet in the apartment. She also introduced Janet to Lady Dora Rose, the marginally daffy proprietor of the building. Alex explained to Lady Dora that Janet had recently become estranged from a man in another city who was prone to violence. It was not altogether a lie. Then, still working from her own cell phone, Alex phoned Yuri Federov. Federov, when he answered, was just leaving one of his doctor’s clinics. He sounded pleased to hear from Alex so soon again.
“I’m in town,” Alex said.
“In New York?”
“Is there another town?” she joked. “As it’s turning out, I might get transferred here.”
“Ah! I envy you. Some handsome, wealthy man will spot you and marry you in a heartbeat. I envy him, with such an extraordinary wife.”
“That’s the distant future,” Alex answered, playing along. “I’m in town with a girlfriend and I need a favor or two in the immediate future. I’m also willing to do one in return.”
“Name it.”
She asked if she and her friend could have an audience with him as soon as possible, with Paul Guarneri attending also.
“Would this evening work?” Federov asked.
“That would be excellent.”
“Paul and I have two tickets to the hockey at Madison Square Garden,” Federov said. “New York Rangers against Chicago. There are several Russian players.”
“After the game then?” she asked.
“Nonsense. Come with us.”
“You said you had
“I have friends,” Federov said. “So does Paul. Are you carrying a gun? What is your country coming to? They have metal detectors now at sporting events in America.”
“Yes, I have a gun. I also have a federal permit.”
“Then you’re okay. Paul has a New York permit. I’m walking around defenseless, however. I feel naked. How do you like that, huh?”
“Not very much,” Alex said.
“Wear something sexy,” he said, “in addition to the gun. Meet us at the Seventh Avenue entrance, okay?”
“Okay.”
Two tickets turned into four within two hours of game time. Federov had seats three rows behind the Rangers bench in the $1500-perseat territory. Janet had never been to a professional ice hockey game before, much less in the “connected” section with a pair of wise guys. The Rangers won 4-2 in a game memorable for forty minutes of fighting penalties. One of the Russian stars scored two goals and handled himself well in a brawl. Federov went wild like a kid. Both Janet and Alex savored the experience.
After the game Guarneri’s driver, a young man named Anthony, waited in a stretch Cadillac at the corner of Seventh Avenue and 33rd Street. They all piled into the car, which drove south down Seventh, then turned east and crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Twenty minutes later, they arrived outside a small Italian restaurant in Red Hook named Margherita’s. The restaurant’s kitchen was closed to the public by that hour but remained open for a selected clientele. Guarneri’s car and driver waited outside, parked next to a fire hydrant with the engine running.
The woman who owned the place, Margherita herself, came out and greeted Paul Guarneri with a hug. She was a small gnomelike woman shaped like a bottle of Chianti. She had gray hair and gushed over Paul. She alluded to knowing Paul since he was a boy. She was just leaving.
Over veal and a light red wine from Sicily, Alex eventually got around to what she wished to discuss.
“Against favors past and present that I might do for either of you,” Alex began, addressing the two men. “I wonder if either of you could do me a favor while my friend Janet is in New York. I need to be away for what may be a few weeks.”
Both Federov and Guarneri settled in to listen.
Alex began. “As you may know, Janet is her real name. But it’s all of her name you’ll need to know unless she chooses to tell you more. And I’ve already advised her not to, for her own protection. She’s in some trouble and needs looking after. Normally I’d see to it myself, but her situation is so delicate that I don’t have time to work out something myself. I need to take a work trip to the Middle East,” Alex said. “I leave within a few days.”
“So you want us to watch over her for you?” Federov asked.
“Yes. I wonder if you would establish some security around Janet for me,” she said. “Make sure nothing happens to her. She has some people who wish her harm. She needs a bodyguard. At least one, maybe a couple.”
“I might be able to arrange something,” Federov said, “but I am powerless in this city now. I don’t live here, and I don’t know the right people. Further, I will be going back to Switzerland very shortly.”
But Guarneri started to laugh. He had a couple of young men in his organization who specialized at such jobs, he said.
“Your men need to be respectful as well as protective,” Alex said. “They should be married men with families and not inclined to socialize.”
“I have the right people,” he said. “They know better than to mix pleasure with business. They can arrange with her a time when she goes out each day. And they will accompany her. Maybe between the hours of noon and three. Then again in the evening when she desires it. They can also inspect her apartment when she reenters to make sure no one is inside waiting.”
“They’ll need to be armed,” Alex said.
“That goes without saying.”
Federov glanced at Janet, then back at Alex. He smiled. “What has this nice young woman done to get in such trouble with so many bad people?” Federov asked.
“She saw something. Or she thinks she did. That’s all I can tell you.”
“You work for a government security agency,” Guarneri said, probing gently. “I would be happy to arrange protection for her. But why can’t the government do it?”
“In this case,” Alex said, flattering them, “I trust you more than I trust them.”
Guarneri’s lips parted, and he flashed his expensive teeth. “Why do you trust
“I trust you more, Paul, because you want my help in the future with your Cuban situation. I’m prepared to advise you informally on that, perhaps even accompany you to the island. That’s not something you can purchase or obtain somewhere else.”
She paused and, from his delighted expression, realized that she had pressed the proper buttons.
“Again, I need to maintain certain professional ethics. I won’t tell you how to
Guarneri nodded. Contentment came across his face. Simultaneously, a look of amusement went across Federov’s. Janet grinned innocently.
Then, “All right, then. We have an agreement,” Guarneri said. Guarneri lifted his wine glass and held it forward. A moment later, three other glasses clicked with his.
After dinner, they walked in pairs the short distance to the curb, Janet and Alex walking ahead, Federov walking several paces behind them with
