The Marching Season

through a stack of papers from the office. Ambassador Cannon had a busy day tomorrow: a meeting with the foreign secretary, a luncheon with a group of British business leaders, an interview with a reporter from The Times. When he finished he placed his papers in a manila file folder and placed the folder back in his briefcase.
    Shortly before ten-thirty the building's intercom buzzed softly. McDaniels pressed the button and said playfully, "Who's there?"
    "It's me, darling," she said. "Were you expecting one of your other lovers?"
    It was a little game they played: jokes about other lovers, feigned jealousy. It was amazing how quickly their relationship had progressed.
    "You're the only woman I've ever had in my entire life."
    194 Daniel Silva
    "Liar."
    "Hang up and I'll buzz you in."
    He smoothed his hair while he waited for her to arrive. He heard footsteps outside in the hall, but he didn't want to appear overeager to see her, so he waited for her to knock. When he pulled back the door she stepped into his arms and kissed him on the mouth. Her lips parted and her silken tongue slid over his. She pulled away slightly and said, "I've been waiting to do that all night."
    Preston McDaniels smiled. "How did I get so lucky to find someone like you?"
    "I'm the lucky one."
    "Can I get you something to drink?"
    "Actually, I have a very serious problem, and you're the only one who can help me."
    She took his hand and led him to the bedroom, unbuttoning her blouse as she moved. She pushed him down on the end of the bed and pulled his face to her breasts.
    "Oh, my God," he groaned.
    "Hurry, darling," she said. "Please hurry."
    Rebecca Wells awakened at three o'clock in the morning. She lay very still for several minutes, listening to McDaniels's breathing. He was a heavy sleeper naturally, and he had made love to her twice tonight. She sat up, eased her way out of bed, and crossed the floor. Her blouse lay on the floor where she had left it. She scooped it up, let herself out, and softly closed the door.
    She pulled on the blouse as she crossed the hall and entered his study. She closed that door too and sat down at the desk. The briefcase was on the floor, unlocked. She opened it and picked through the contents until she found what she was looking for:
    The Marching Season 195
    the folder containing details of Ambassador Douglas Cannon's schedule for the following day.
    She took a notepad from his desk and began scribbling furiously. It was all there—the time of each meeting, the method of transportation, the route. She finished copying the schedule and quickly flipped through the rest of the papers to see if there was anything interesting. When she was done she returned the file to its place in the briefcase and switched off the light.
    She slipped into the hallway and entered the bathroom. She closed the door and turned on the light. She threw water on her face and stared at her reflection in the mirror.
    She had made a promise to herself when the IRA killed Ronnie: She would never marry, and she would never take another man to their bed. She had thought it was going to be a difficult vow to keep, but the hatred that filled her heart after his death left no room for any other emotion, especially love for another man. A few men from Portadown had tried to pursue her, but she had pushed them all away. Inside the Brigade, the men knew better than to waste their time.
    She thought of Preston McDaniels inside her body and wanted to vomit. She told herself it was for an important cause, the future of the Protestant way of life in Northern Ireland. In a way she almost felt sorry for McDaniels. He was a decent man, kind and gentle, but he had fallen for the oldest trick in the book—the honey trap. Tonight he had said he was in love with her. She dreaded what would happen to him when, inevitably, he learned that she had betrayed him.
    She drank a glass of water and flushed the toilet; then she shut off the light and slipped back into bed.
    "I thought you'd never come back," McDaniels said softly.
    She nearly screamed, but she managed to keep her composure. "I was just a little thirsty."
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    "Bring any for me?" "Sorry, darling."
    "Actually, there's something else I want." He rolled on top of her. "You," he said. "Can you?"
    He pulled her hand to his groin.
    "Well, well," she said. "We should do something about that." He thrust deeply into her body.
    Rebecca Wells closed her eyes and thought of her dead