The tailor was set to be there by 10:00 and Stacy decided she had just enough time to call Samson with the pregnancy news.
She smiled that Stacy had come to terms with her decision and gently closed the door on her way out. She needed to give Stacy some privacy for a bit and so she went to check in with Josef about the arrangements for the rest of the day.
"Good morning my dear man," she said. "Have any trouble acquiring my package for today?"
His face was solemn, but then he produced a pastry box. "Trdelník, all the way from Slovakia."
"You are the man," she said.
"And a little something extra as well. I took the liberty of getting you some Tatratea, the Slovak national drink. Not sure if you have ever..."
She cut him off and grabbed it out of the box. "Eek! That stuff is awesome. And stout! I appreciate you so much Josef."
"What time will you require the boat?" he asked.
"Well let's just play it by ear and see how Stacy feels. And the tailor should be here at 10:00, so please tell the Rottweilers to let him in."
"Can do," he said with a smile.
"Oh- and did Stacy really ask you to pick out the best looking Romanians to send with us?" she asked.
Josef blushed. "She was quite detailed in her request, Mrs. Lady and that is all I can say in the presence of a lady."
Josef was red faced and it tickled her. They both had a good laugh and she shook her head. "So did you get her what she asked for?"
"Well," he said, "I took it to the guys and we had a kind of drawing straws thing for the assignment. But the short straws were fought after, I can assure you. Literally fought after."
She grinned as she carried her box of pastries and her Slovak tea liquor back up to her room. "Oh my gosh, anyone that has not had a Trdelník has not lived," she said out loud. She and The Husband ate one (and sometimes more than one) every single day that they were in Prague. She couldn't wait to tear into them.
She felt charitable and decided to walk back to Stacy's room to share. The same smiley Romanian was on guard and she offered him a Trdelník. He turned her down.
"Of course you wouldn't eat any carbs, my bad." she giggled as she entered the room and closed the door. Then she opened it and peeped through to ask him if he was going with them on the boat. He nodded as one corner of his mouth turned up.
"Well there's one of the lucky ones," she thought. She closed the door and turned around to find Stacy sitting in one of the chairs stoically looking out her balcony.
"How did it go?" she asked while offering up some heaven in pastry form.
Stacy turned to her and wasn't crying or happy, just kind of pensive.
"He is so thrilled. He cried. He prayed. He said he wants to come and see me tonight. He said 'he can't imagine the good fortune that has smiled upon us'. On one hand I am so thrilled that he is this happy. Thrilled to be able to give him this gift, this kind of joy. But on the other hand it's really just an illusion, isn't it? How can I do this to him?"
Stacy looked at her and into her soul it seemed.
"Listen, you are blonde and fair, the father is dark complected and curly haired. This baby will look like a perfect combination of you and Samson. This baby will be loved. This baby will be supported in all endeavors, raised in the church and with every advantage. And this baby will be the only heir to its grandparents' fortune. If you worry at all for the baby's sake, don't. If you worry for Samson's sake, how long have you guys been trying?"
"Eleven years," she said. One tear fell down her left cheek. "Eleven long years. We tried naturally, then he talked adoption but I wanted our own child. I talked in vitro but he was so against picking a child out of several embryos and playing God. His parents were crushed. We had given up. And now this."
"You have blessed him and his family beyond belief," she said, and she meant it. "Don't take that from them."
She looked away. "I won't," she said. "And it makes me happy to know that The Husband is such a good daddy to the kid. It really does. Blood isn't everything."
They hugged and she told Stacy the tailor would be there soon. They should both shower up, get their Carolina Herrera fittings done and then head out on the boat.
She left the room thinking about The Husband and the kid and it made her smile. And all that thinking about The Husband reminded her of something... she should call Federale.
"Gott im Himmel!" he exclaimed as soon as he answered.
"Seriously? Cussing me in German and this early in the morning? Ihr Deutsch ist nicht so gut, Herr Inspektor Haupt Federale," she said.
"Well I'll be sure to tell Rosetta Stone that next time I see her. I hope your time has been lovely running around with Stacy and ignoring me?" he seemed perturbed.
"Oh it has, it has. You should really try to get to Croatia sometime. You would love the history and my GOD the view!"
"Unfortunately looks like I will soon be enjoying the view in Kosovo and not sunny Dubrovnik, we can't all live the Mediterranean playboy life." He said grumpily.
"Yeah, yeah. Well you know I've officially turned in my notice at work and will be playboying around a lot more from now on. Or is it playgirling? I don't think I have ever really heard of anyone playgirling around Europe but that should be a thing..."
He cut her off angrily. "About you quitting your job," he said. "We really need to talk about it."
She had worried for about 15 years about having this conversation with him. And didn't really want to have it now but there was no avoiding it.
He continued. "So I have a lot of things to say, and you don't have to confirm or deny, but I hope you know that they are things that can seriously affect our working relationship and friendship going forward."
"I understand," she said and took a deep breath. "Go ahead."
"Mr. Wrong Last Name, with whom you have been palling around with in all the hats, is set to take over as the new El Jefe. DEA has confirmed it. The CIA is involved because of some ambiguous land grab damn near the size of the Louisiana purchase going on in Paraguay. I can't even comprehend what that is all about, but apparently it is tied to this guy named Peron who even arranged for Jenna Bush to help finalize it under the cover of a UNICEF humanitarian mission. My God, are there no limits? Who would even think to bring in UNICEF?! This Peron guy, that's who! I've got to give it to him for out of the box thinking but he has everyone and I mean everyone in a tizzy over it. I can't tell you how many different agents in different agencies have gotten an ass chewing over this. And now that they're really looking into it he's all over the place down there! And just like that South America which has been out of play for over a decade is now back on the table. Mr. Wrong Last Name is involved, I know he is. I can feel it. Strange how this huge land purchase of Peron's happens and then the CIA steps up to the table within days of the negotiated transfer. I don't like it, and you're in the middle of it."
She continued to listen, and wondered how much she could tell him and how much she could hold back without insulting his intelligence or losing his friendship.
He went on, voice shaking. "Just tell me that you are away from him currently. He's not sitting right there is he?"
"No, he's not. And you're right about him and the DEA- he has agents with him at all times. They gave me a satellite encrypted phone to keep up with and took mine. They've got mine in Italy, showing I am still at the Palazzo, just in case Interpol or anyone get antsy about where I am." She offered up that info hoping to placate him some. He was not impressed.
"A nice plan, until Stacy starts Instagramming from Nautika with you and was that really the Anjelica Huston? Seriously? I couldn't believe it, and not for all the obvious reasons." He was not happy, and she wondered what he was still holding back.
She exhaled and said, "OK- I am sorry to have worried you and made you do all this guesswork. The timeline for the transfer is tomorrow. But I don't want you to worry about me. I have a plane arranged to take me out of Croatia tomorrow night. There's nothing for you to worry about. Set to leave at 6:00, and well before the transfer of power meeting even takes place. I'll be in the air and completely safe."
He couldn't believe she still wasn't being straight with him. "I wouldn't worry, except the #3 in the CIA was at Nautika with you, which you failed to mention. I could see his arm and that bracelet he always wears in the corner of Stacy's picture. Not to mention the army guys in the background I can only imagine were his security and not yours. As a matter of fact, you failed to mention him or what you were even doing there. Which leads me to have to ask you the obvious question..."
"OK, so you are wondering what I was doing out with both The General and Ms. Huston. Do you not remember that my matchmaking skills are legendary?" she quipped.
Her joke was not well received. There was a long pause before he asked what they both knew he was about to.
"This is not the time for you to attempt levity with me. Why are you meeting with the CIA #3? You know he was #3 under 41, both when 41 was CIA director and when he was president. The General has been #3 for a long, long time. I knew you guys had hometown connections, but meeting up in Croatia at Nautika? Don't insult my intelligence by maintaining this weird premise of 'So what if I just so happen to meet a friend's dad in the former Yugoslav to set him up with Morticia Addams from the Addams Family' stuff. I want you to tell me why."
The tension through the phone line was palpable and thick. "OK I'll tell you," she said. Her voice now shook too. She was so scared of his reaction, and of the betrayal he was surely about to feel. "For what it's worth, I have thought the world of you ever since you carried my books up the stairs at Annapolis. Please when you hear these words I'm about to say don't think differently about me. You know who I am. You KNOW who I am. And I hope that what I am about to tell you won't change that."
And she told him.
They sat in silence on the phone for almost a full minute.
"Well there it is," he said. "There it is."
"Federale, I..."
"Not now, ok not now." He was rattled and unsure of where this left them. "Who all knows?" he asked.
"The Husband. The General. Stacy. Samson."
"My God this is a cluster. Four people. It is hard to contain with 4 people knowing. Now 5! You didn't say Mr. Wrong Last Name, was that on purpose or yet another misguided omission?"
"He doesn't know," she said quietly.
"Well isn't he gonna freak out. I would hate to be anywhere around when he does find out," he said.
"Like I told you, I meet with El Jefe and then leave by 4:00. The transfer is a couple hours after. I'll be on the plane and perfectly safe."
He thought it over and many things came to him from their friendship over the years. But just one thing stood out.
"So the 3 star... he's CIA and your childhood friend's dad right?"
"He is," she replied.
Another long silence transpired before he continued. "And he told you to go to the Senator's Naval Academy table at career night, didn't he?"
"He did," she answered.
Silence. "Seems a bit strange he didn't send you to the Westpoint table, doesn't it?"
He was beginning to catch on, and she wasn't sure she liked it.
"I didn't really think about that at the time," she commented honestly.
This time the response was immediate. "Didn't really think about it at the time?? Maybe because you were 15! My God, you were 15! And they get you there, they tell you to apply for camp, you arrive at the United States Naval Academy and a SEALs team just happens to show up. You know how rare that is? To send these men, who are basically trained assassins, to come be around a kids' camp? And one of them singles you out, and just so happens that he is El Jefe, and he recruits you, oh God he recruited you!" Federale was struggling, he really was. He was questioning everything from the very beginning now. Even from when they were still teens.
"You know it was one thing when you were a kid, but you're an adult! Do you need out? Can you get out? You know we're on opposite sides," he said almost choking on the words. "How long? How long have you been playing me?"
"It's not like that," she insisted. She was fighting really hard to hold it together and not cry. "I would never betray you or your friendship. And we are not on opposite sides, the lines are just a blurred between the sides and we exist in that spot. In the blurry spot. But before you get too sanctimonious on me I wasn't the only one recruited that day, look at you," she said angrily.
"Yeah, I was recruited, sure! To be a United States federal agent! I work on behalf of America!" he was absolutely indignant.
"So do I!" she yelled into the phone. And for a few minutes after they hung up, he contemplated the full meaning of those three words.
She was emotionally and physically devastated by their exchange, and hoped that he would be able to get past this in a few days. Time would tell. But she couldn't afford to sit there and wallow in the fight with so many other irons in the fire, so she showered, got dressed and went to Stacy's room to look for the tailor. She cracked the door as she knocked and hollered out, "Hey lady, are you naked?"
"No, well yes, well I'm in a compromising position!" Stacy said with a very nervous sounding giggle. She sounded strained. "Don't come in! You know how modest I am!"
That was strange. Stacy was the least modest person she knew.
"Oh my God, what is going on?" she asked, cautiously. Something was very wrong.
"Well, it appears that I have a very large Mexican man between my legs with a bunch of straight pins," she replied. "And I'm not sure he knows what he's doing! Where did you find this guy?"
Instantly she shivered.
Then the tailor spoke, "Oh you can come in it's no problem. We're all fine in here, Miss Stacy is just a little unsure of the hemlines. I will get to you in just a few minutes."
He spoke smugly and with a voice she would recognize anywhere.
She paused a minute to gain some clarity and finally came up with something. "OK, I'll give you guys a minute and be right in. I need to run and get my shoes from my room so you know just where to pin the hems."
She couldn't believe it. The fact that Stacy just said the tailor was Mexican was not lost on her and not a mistake. And his voice... it confirmed it. Stacy was in trouble, big trouble. And she was too.
She walked as quietly as she could down the long palace hall looking for Josef. "Josef!" she whispered as loudly as she dared.
He materialized quickly and asked her what she required.
"There is a very, very bad man in the room with Stacy." She was trying to breathe evenly while still making her way to her room at a steady click.
He immediately responded in the negative. "No way Mrs. Lady, no way. The tailor is who is in there."
"The tailor is not supposed to be Mexican, Josef! Stacy said this tailor is Mexican!" In spite of herself her voice was breaking. She had about two or three minutes to pull it together.
"How can that be?" he asked, incredulously. "We have 12 Romanians here on security!"
"And I told you to make them stand down. So they let him right in!" She simply couldn't believe it.
"I will go and take care of this now," he said and turned to leave her.
She grabbed him and pulled him hard. "No! She's pregnant. I can't risk something happening to that baby, or Stacy. Just come with me to my room to get my bag."
Josef didn't like it and paused in the hall for a minute before reluctantly following her. She grabbed her mar y sol and hat and turned on both phones. She text both of them 911 and then promptly took the battery out of the DEA phone the Ole Misses had given her and set it on the kitchen counter.
She turned to him with a sudden moment of clarity. "Josef- I'm going in there. I'm not sure where he will take me but he will take me. I am going with him, no other way around this. I need you to get ahold of The Husband and tell him who I'm with. Can you please do that?"
"No Mrs. Lady I will not let you go and I will not get The Husband. I will kill this man instead! He gives any of us a clear shot and we end him."
"No Josef you can't!" she said.
Josef was very conflicted between duty and orders.
And her burn phone from Federale vibrated in that instant.
"Federale! My God, someone very bad has Stacy. I'm about to swap myself for her and he will take me. I don't know where, but I have ordered Josef to let me go. I need you to get ahold of The Husband, please. I know you're angry, but please."
"Oh my God! I tried to tell you the other day but you hung up on me," he said. "I can't get ahold of the Husband. The big kid told me so."
"The big kid?" What the heck?
"Yes- she is on the way to Europe with her Daddy and brother to surprise you. They are coming to Croatia. Crap- they are probably there right now! How in the hell would The Husband know where you are and why would he be bringing the kids with him? And now they are all three walking into this? Don't you dare go in that room with Stacy! You get those Romanians Mr. Wrong Last Name hired to handle it!"
The kids. Her knees buckled.
She held onto the counter and the phone for all she was worth.
"Are you still there? Hello?" Federale grew more insistent. "I'm coming. I'm coming to get you. God have mercy on this man because I will not!"
"She's heading here with her Daddy because I asked him to come, Federale. Or rather I asked Mr. Wrong Last Name to ask him to come. But oh God why is he bringing the kids??"
"Why in the hell would you ask Mr. Wrong Last Name to ask The Husband to come to Croatia?" he asked.
"Because," she said voice shaking, "Federale The Husband is El Jefe."