The Marching Season

read the article; it was two paragraphs, with only the barest details. Maurice Leroux was shot to death in his apartment in the Sixth Arrondissement of Paris. Police were investigating.
    "What kind of gun did the killer use?"
    "Nine millimeter."
    The Jaguar sped south along the Park Lane, then crossed Green Park along Constitution Hill. A moment later it passed through the gates of Buckingham Palace.
    278 Daniel Silva
    Michael looked at Graham. "Never a dull moment with you, is there?"
    "I wouldn't have it any other way."
    "It's so nice to see you again, Mr. Osbourne," Queen Elizabeth said, as they entered a palace drawing room. "Please sit down."
    Michael sat down. Tea was served, and her aides and assistants withdrew. Graham Seymour waited outside in the anteroom.
    "I want to thank you for the fine work you did in dealing with the menace of the Ulster Freedom Brigade," the Queen said. "The people of Northern Ireland owe you a tremendous debt. Indeed, so does the whole of Great Britain."
    "Thank you, Your Majesty," Michael said politely.
    "I was very sorry to hear about your agent, the one who was killed in Northern Ireland." She paused a moment, face perplexed, and glanced at the ceiling. "Oh, good heavens, I can't recall the poor man's name."
    "Kevin Maguire," Michael said.
    "Ah, yes, Harbinger," the Queen said, using Maguire's code name. "Such a frightful business that was. I was relieved to hear you weren't seriously hurt. But I know losing an agent like Harbinger in such a horrible way must have affected you deeply."
    "Kevin Maguire wasn't perfect, but there are countless people who are alive today because of him. It took a tremendous amount of courage for him to betray the IRA, and in the end he paid with his life."
    "What are your plans now that the Protestant threat appears to have been neutralized? Do you plan to stay with the CIA or vanish back into retirement?"
    "I'm not sure yet," Michael said. "Right now I'd just like to go home and see my wife and children. I've been away for a long time."
    The Marching Season 279
    "I'm not sure I could be married to someone in your line of work."
    "It takes a very special kind of woman," Michael said.
    "So your wife is supportive?"
    Michael smiled. "I wouldn't go that far, Your Majesty."
    "I suppose you have to do what makes you happy. And if working for the CIA makes you happy, I'm sure she'll understand. It's certainly important work. You should be very proud of what you've accomplished here."
    "Thank you, Your Majesty. I am proud."
    "Well, since it appears you're going to remain inside the CIA for the time being, I suppose we'll have to do this in private."
    "Do what, Your Majesty?" Michael asked.
    "Your honorary knighthood."
    "You're joking."
    She smiled mischievously and said, "I never joke about something as important as this."
    She opened a small rectangular case and showed Michael the medal of the Honorary Knighthood of the British Empire.
    "It's beautiful," he said. "I'm honored and very flattered."
    "You should be."
    "Do I have to kneel?"
    "Don't be silly," she said. "Just finish your tea and tell me what it felt like to capture Gavin Spencer."
    "You mean I just had sex with a real knight?" Elizabeth said. "I'm afraid so." "I think you're my first." "I'd better be."
    "So what did you two chat about besides Northern Ireland?" "We talked about you."
    280 Daniel Silva
    "Oh, please."
    "We did."
    "What about me?"
    "She wanted to know whether I was going to stay with the Agency or vanish back into retirement, as she put it."
    "And what did you tell her?"
    "I told her I didn't know."
    "Such a coward."
    "Watch it. I'm a knight, remember?"
    "So what's the answer?"
    "For one of the first times in my career with the Agency, I feel I actually accomplished something. It feels good."
    "So you want to stay on?"
    "I want to hear what Monica has to say before I make any final decisions. And I want to hear what you have to say."
    "Michael, you know how I feel. But I also need you to be happy. It's strange, but listening to you for the last hour, you've seemed happier than you have in months."
    "So what are you saying?"
    "I'm saying that I wish working somewhere other than the Central Intelligence Agency could make you happy. But if it's what you want, and you're going to be content, then I want you to stay."
    She crushed out her cigarette, untied her robe, and rolled on top of him, pressing her breasts against his warm skin. "Just make me one promise," she said. "If you