一个老美给我介绍的目前在美国很受欢迎的作者sydney sheldon,他的小说用的词比较实用不偏，值得学生读好不容易才找到，没事时别光想着灌水，来啃啃吧

against the hissing snow.The assistant to the fire chief approached the ashes, bent down, andsniffed. "Kerosene," he said. "Arson."The fire chief was staring at the ruins, a puzzled expression on hisface. "That's strange," he muttered."What?""I was hunting in these woods last week. There was no cabin."Chapter OneStanton Rogers was destined to be President of the United States. Hewas a charismatic politician, highly visible to an approving public, andbacked by powerful friends. Unfortunately for Rogers, his libido got inthe way of his career.It was not that Stanton Rogers fancied himself a Casanova. On thecontrary, until that one fateful bedroom escapade he had been a modelhusband. He was handsome, wealthy, and although he had had ampleopportunity to cheat on his wife, he had never given another woman athought.There was a second, perhaps greater irony: Stanton Rogers' wife,Elizabeth, was social, beautiful, and intelligent, arld the two of themshared a common interest in almost everything, whereas Barbara, thewoman Rogers fell in love with, and eventually married after a muchheadlined divorce, was five years older than Stanton, pleasant-facedrather than pretty, and seemed to have nothing in common with him.Stanton was athletic; Barbara hated all forms of exercise. Stanton wasgregarious; Barbara preferred to be alone with her husband, or toentertain small groups. The biggest surprise was the politicaldifferences. Stanton was a liberal, while Barbara was anarchconservative.Paul Ellison, Stanton's closest friend, had said, "You must be out ofyour mind, chum! You and Liz are the perfect married couple. Do youhave any idea what a divorce is going to do to your career?"Stanton Rogers had replied tightly, "Back off, Paul. I'm in love withBarbara. Besides, half the marriages in this country end in divorce. Itwon't do anything."Rogers had proved to be a poor prophet. The press kept the story of thebitterly fought divorce alive as long as they could, and the gossippapers played it up as luridly as possible, with pictures of StantonRogers' love nest and stories of secret midnight trusts. When the furordied dovlrn, Stanton Rogers' powerful political friends found a newwhite knight to champion: Paul Ellison.Ellison was a sound choice. While he had neither Stanton ]Rogers' goodlooks nor his charisma, he was intelligent, likable, and had the rightbackground. He was short in stature, with regular, even features andcandid blue eyes. He had been happily married for ten, years to thedaughter of a steel magnate.Stanton Rogers and Paul Ellison had grown up together in New York. Theirfamilies had had adjoining summer homes in Southampton. They were, inthe same class, first at Yale and later at Harvard Law School. PaulEllison did well, but it was Stanton Rogers who was the star pupil. Oncehe was out of law school, Stanton Rogers' political star began risingmeteorically, and if he was the comet, Paul Ellison was the tail.

and raw, and snowing hard. Mary Ashley cautiously steered her oldstation wagon toward the center of the highway, where the snowplows hadbeen at work. The storm was going to make her late for the class shewas teaching.From the car radio came the Presiden's voice: "Because I believe thatthere is no problem that cannot be solved by genuine goodwill on bothsides, the concrete wall around East Berlin and the iron curtain thatsurrounds the Soviet satellite countries must come down."Mary Ashley thought, I'm glad I voted for him. Paul Ellison is going tomake a great President.IN BucH=ST, the capital of Remania, it was evening. PresidentAlexandres lonescu sat in his office surrounded by half a dozen aides,listening to the broadcast on a shortwave radio."As you are aware," the American President was saying, "three years ago,upon the death of Remania's President, Nicolae CeauSSescu, ]Remaniabroke off diplomatic relations with the United States. I want to informyou now that we have approached the government of Remania and itsPresident, Alexandres Ionescu, and he has agreed to reestablishdiplomatic relations with our country."One of our first official acts will be to send an ambassador toRemania. And that is merely the beginning. I have no intention ofstopping there. Albania broke off all diplomatic relations with theUnited States in 1946. I intend to reestablish those ties. Inaddition, I intend to strengthen our diplomatic relations with Bulgaria,with iczechoslovakia, and with East Germany."Sending our ambassador to Remania is the beginning of a worldwidepeople-to-people movement. Let us never forget that all mankind sharesa common origin, common problems, and a common ultimate fate. Let usremember that the problems we share are greater than the problems thatdivide us, and that what divides us is of our own making."Over the shortwave radio came the sounds of cheers and applause.IN A heavily guarded villa in Neuilly, a suburb of Paris, the Remanianrevolutionary leader, Marin Groza, was watching President Ellison onchannel 2 television."I think our time has come, Ley. He really means it," said Marin Grozathoughtfully.Ley Pastemak, his security chief, replied, "Won't this help Ionescu?"Marin Groza shook his head. "lonescu is a tyrant, so in the end nothingwill help him. But I must be careful with my timing. I failed when Itried to overthrow him before. I must not fail again."PETE Connors had downed almost a fifth of Scotch while watching theinaugural speech. He poured himself another glassful and turned back tothe image on the television set. "You filthy Communist!" he yelled atthe screen. "This is my country, and the CIAs not gonna let you give itaway. We're gonna stop you, Ellison. You can bet your bottom dollar onit"Chapter TwoPAUL Ellison said, "I'm going to need your help, old friend.""You'll get it," Stanton Rogers replied quietly.It was their first meeting together in the Oval Office, and President

Ellison was uncomfortable. If Stanton hadn't made that one mistake, hethought, he would be sitting at this desk instead of me.As though reading his mind, Stanton Rogers said, "I have a confession tomake. The day you were nominated for the presidency, I was bitterlyjealous. It was my dream, and you were living it. But I came torealize that if I couldn't sit in that chair, there was no one else Iwould want there but you."Paul Ellison smiled at his friend and pressed the button on his desk.Seconds later a white-jacketed steward came into the room."Yes, Mr. President?"Paul Ellison turned to Rogers. "Coffee?""Sounds good.""Want anything with it?""No, thanks. Barbara wants me to watch my waistline."The President nodded to Henry, the steward, and he quietly left theroom.Barbara. She had surprised everyone. The gossip around Washington wasthat the marriage would not last out the first year. But it had beenalmost fifteen years now, and it was a success. Stanton Rogers had builtup a prestigious law practice in-Washington, and Barbam had earned thereputation of being a gracious hostess.Paul Ellison rose and began to pace. "My people-to-people speech seemsto have caused quite an uproar. I suppose you've seen all thenewspapers.""Yes," said Stanton Rogers. "And quite candidly, Mr. President, you'rescaring the pants off a lot of people. The armed forces are againstyour plan, and some powerful movers and shakers would like to see itfail."Ellison sat down and faced his friend. "It's not going to fail."The steward appeared with the coffee. "Can I get you something else,Mr. President?""No. That's it, Henry. Thank you."The President waited until the steward had gone. "I want to talk to youabout finding the right ambassador to send to Remania.""Right.""I don't have to tell you how important this 'is for us, Stan. I wantyou to get moving on it as quickly as you possibly can."Stanton Rogers took a sip of his coffee and rose to his feet. "I'll getState on it right away."IN a little suburb of Neuilly it was two a.m. Marin Groza's villa layin ebon darkness, the moon nestled in a thick layer of -storm clouds.The streets were hushed at this hour, as a blackclad figure movednoiselessly through the trees toward the brick wall that surrounded thevilla. Over one shoulder he carried a rope and a blanket, and in hisarms he cradled a dart gun and an Uzi submachine gun with a silencer.When he reached the wall, he stopped and listened. He waited,motionless, for five minutes. Finally, satisfied, he uncoiled the nylonrope and tossed the scaling hook attached to the end of it upward. Itcaught on the far edge of the wall, and swiffly the man began to climb.When he reached the top of the wall, he flung the blanket across it toprotect himself against the poison-tipped metal spikes embedded on top.He stopped again to listen. He reversed the hook, shifhng the rope tothe inside of the wall, and slid down onto the ground. He checked thebalisong at his waist, the deadly Filipino folding knife that could beflicked open or closed with one hand.The attack dogs would be next. The intruder crouched there, waiting forthem to pick up his scent. There were two Dobermans, trained to kill.But they were only the first obstacle. The grounds and the villa werefilled with electronic devices and continuously monitored by televisioncameras. All mail and packages were received at the gatehouse andopened there by the guards. The doors of the villa were bom
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roof. Thevilla had its own water supply, and Marin Groza had a food taster. Thevilla was impregnable. Supposedly. The figure in black was here thisnight to prove that it was not.He heard the sounds of the dogs rushing at him before he saw them. Theycame flying out of the darkness, charging at his throat. He aimed thedart gun and shot the one on his left first, then the one on his right,dodging out of the way of their hurtling bodies. And then there was onlystillness.The intruder knew where the sonic traps were buried in the ground, andhe skirted them. He silently glided through the areas of the groundsthat the television cameras did not cover, and in less than two minutesafter he had gone over the wall" he was at the back door of the villa.

Stanton Rogers said, "Gentlemen, some of us may disagree with thePresident, but Let's not forget that the people voted for Paul Elhson.We have to support him in every way we can." His words were followed bya reluctant silence. "All right, then. The President wants an updateon Remania. What's the situation with President Ionescu?""lonescu's riding high in the saddle," Ned Tillingest replied. "Once hegot rid of the CeauSSescu family, all of CeauSSescu's allies were eitherassassinated, jailed, or exiled. Since he seized power Ionescu's beenbleeding the country dry. The people hate his guts.""What about the prospects for a revolution?"Tillingast said, "Ah, That's rather interesting. Remember a couple ofyears back when Marin Groza almost toppled the lonescu government?"$"Yes. Groza got out of the country by the skin of his teeth.""With our help. Our information is that there's a popular ground swellto bring him back. Groza would be good for Romania, and good for us.We're watching the situation."Stanton Rogers turned to the Secretary of State. "Do you have that listof candidates for the Remanian post?"Floyd Baker took an envelope from a leather attaches case and handed itto Rogers. "These are our top prospects. They're all career diplomats.Naturally," he added, "the State Department favors a career diplomatrather than a political appointee. Someone who's been trained for thiskind of job. Remania is an extremely sensitive post.""I agree." Stanton Rogers rose to his feet. "i'll discuss these nameswith the President and get back to you."As the others got up to leaveNed Tillingast said, "Stay here, Pete. Iwant to talk to you." When they were alone, Tillingast said, "You cameon pretty strong, Pete.""But I'm right," Pete Connors said stubbornly. "The President is tryingto sell out the country. What are we supposed to do?""Keep your mouth shut, Pete. And be careful. Very careful."Ned Tillingast had been around longer than Pete Connors. He had been amember of Wild Bill Donovan's OSS before it became the CIA. He toohated what the bleeding hearts in Congress were doing to theorganization he loved. It had been Tillingast who had recruited PeteConnors out of college, and Connors had turned out to be one of thebest. But in the last few years Connors had become a cowboy-a littletoo independent, a little too quick on the trigger. Dangerous."Pete, have you heard anything,about an underground organization callingitself Patriots for Freedom?" Tillingast asked.Connors frowned. "No. Can't say that I have. Who are they?""All I have is smoke. See if you can get a lead on them.""Will do."An hour later Pete Connors was making a phone call from a public booth."I have a message for Odin," he said."This is Odin," General Oliver Brooks replied.PAUL Ellison threw the list of candidates down on his desk. "They'redinosaurs," he snapped. "Every one of them.""Mr. President," Rogers protested, "these people are all experienced

pocket. "Mary Elizabeth Ashley. Milford Road, junction City, Kansas.Age, almost thirty-five. Married to Dr. Edward Ashley. Two children:Beth, twelve, and Tim, ten. Assistant professor, Eastern Europeanpolitical science, Kansas State University. Grandfather born inRemania." He looked up thoughtfully. "I must admit she soundsinteresting.""I think so too. I'd like to have a full security check run on her.""I'll see that It's done.""I DISAGREE, Professor Ashley," said Barry Dylan, one of the twelvegraduate students in Mary Ashley's political science seminar."Alexandros lonescu is worse than CeauSSescu ever was.""Can you back up that statement?" Mary asked.The waiting lists to get into Mary Ashley's classes were longer than anyother professor's at Kansas State University. She was a superb teacher,with an easy sense of humor and a warmth that made being around her apleasure. She had an oval face that changed from interesting tobeautiful, depending on her mood. She had the high cheekbones of amodel, and almond-shaped, hazel eyes. Her hair was dark and thick. Shehad a figure that made her female students envious and the malesfantasize, yet she was unaware of how beautiful she was."Well," said Barry, "Ionescu has cracked down hard on all the pro-Grozaelements and reestablished a hard-line, pro-Soviet position. EvenCeauSSescu wasn't that bad."Another student spoke up. "Then why is President Ellison so anxious toestablish diplomatic relations with him?""Because we want to woo him into the Western orbit. Also-" The bellsounded. The time was up.Mary said, "Monday we'll discuss the possible consequences of PresidentEllison's plan to penetrate the Eastern bloc. Have a good weekend."Mary Ashley loved the give-and-take of her graduate seminar. Foreignnames and places became real, and historical events took on flesh andblood. This was her fill year on the faculty at Kansas State, andteaching still excited her.She especially enjoyed teaching about Remania. It had been hergrandfather who had instilled in her a deep curiosity about his nativeland. He had told her romantic stories of Queen Marieand baronesses and princesses; tales of Albert, the prince consort ofEngland, and of Alexander II, Czar of Russia.Somewhere in our background there is royal blood. If the revolution hadnot come, you would have been a princess.She used to have dreams about it.She taught five political science classes in addition to the graduateseminar, and each of them dealt with the Soviet Union and its satellitecountries. At times she felt like a fraud. I've never been to any ofthe countries I teach about, she thought. I've never even been outsidethe United States.Mary had planned a trip abroad when she received her master's degree,but that summer she met Edward Ashley, and the European trip turned intoa three-day honeymoon at Waterville, fifty-five miles from junctionCity, where Edward was taking care of a critical heart patient."We really must travel next year," Mary said to Edward shortly after

relentless wind. Edward strapped himself into his Ford Granada andwatched Mary as she got behind the wheel of the station wagon."Drive carefully, sweetheart," Edward called."You too, darling." She blew him a kiss, and the two cars drove awayfrom the house, Edward heading toward the hospital and Mary toward theuniversity.Two men parked half a block from the Ashley house waited until thevehicles were out of sight. "Let's go."They drove up to the house next door to the Ashleys'. The driver sat inthe cilr while his companion walked up to the front door and rang -thebell. The door was opened by an attractive brunette in her middlethirties."Mrs. Douglas Schiller?""Yes?"The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an identificationcard. "My name is Donald Zamlock. I'm with the Security Agency of theState Department. I want to ask you a few questions about yourneighbor, Mrs. Ashley."She looked at him with concern. "Mary? Why would you be asking abouther?""May I come in?""Yes." Florence Schiller led him into the living room. "Would you likesome coffee?""No, thanks. I'll only take a few minutes." He smiled reassuringly."This is just a routine check. She's not suspected of any wrongdoing.""I should hope not," Florence Schiller said indignantly. "Mary Ashleyis one of the nicest persons you'll ever meet." She added, "Have you mether?""No, ma'am. This visit is confidential, and I would appreciate it ifyou kept it that way. How long have you known Mrs. Ashley?""About thirteen years. Since the day she moved in next door.""Would you say that you know Mrs. Ashley well?""Of course I would. Mary's my closest friend. What-""Mrs. Schiller, in your opinion is Mrs. Ashley an emotionally stableperson?""Of course she is.""Mrs. Ashley's grandfather was born in Remania. Have you ever heardher discuss Remania?""Oh, once in a while she'll tell stories her grandfather told her aboutthe old country.""One last question. Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley or Dr. Ashley sayanything against the United States government?""Absolutely not!""Then in your estimation they're both loyal Americans?""You bet they are. Would you mind telling me-"The man rose. "I want to thank you for your time, Mrs. Schiller. AndI'd like to impress upon you again that this matter is highlyconfidential. I would appreciate it if you didn't discuss it withanyone-not even your husband."A moment later he was out the door. Florence Schiller stood therestaring after him. "I don't believe this whole conversation tookplace," she said aloud.BRIDGE WITH THEIR NEIGHBOIRS the Schillers was a Mondaynight ritual forMary and Edward Ashley. The fact that Douglas Schiller was a doctor andworked with Edward at the hospital made the two couples even closer.Douglas Schiller was normally a pleasant, easygoing man, but at themoment there was a grim expression on his face. They were in the middleof the game, and the Schillers were ten thousand points behind. For the

her way over to Harry. "Wanna buy me a drink?"She had a heavy Spanish accent.She looks like a fat cow, Lantz thought..And she's drunk. "Get lost,sister.""Esteban, the bartender. He say you are lookin' for me, no?""He must have made a mistake. I'm looking for Neusa Muez.""Si. Yo soy Neusa Mudez."But the wrong one, Harry thought. "Are you Angel's friend?"She smiled drunkenly. "Si."Harry Lantz recovered swiffly. "Well, well." He forced a smile. "Can wego to a corner table and talk?"They fought their way across the smoky bar, and when they were seated,Harry Lantz said, "I'd like to talk about-"' "You buy me a rum, s(? Adouble."Lantz nodded. "Sure." When the waiter left, Lantz said, "I want to meetwith Angel. I have a little present for him."She studied him. "St? What kin'a present?""Two million dollars."Their drinks arrived. She downed hers in one gulp. "Wha' for you wannagive Angel two million dollars?""That's something I'll have to discuss with him in person.""Thais not possible. Angel, he don' talk to nobody.""Lady, for two million dollars-"Neusa Mufiez struggled to her feet. "I tol' you, he don' talk tonobody. Ad16s.""Hey! Wait a minute! Don't go."She looked down at him with bleary eyes. "What you wan'?""sit down," Lantz said slowly, "and I'll tell you what I want."She sat down heavily. "I need a rum, huh?"Harry Lantz was baffled. What kind of man is this Angel? he wondered.His mistress is not only the ugliest broad in all of South America, butshe's a lush.Lantz did not like dealing with drunks. On the other hand, he hated thethought of losing his fifty-thousand-dollar commission. He summoned thewaiter and ordered the drink, then smiled and said reasonably, e Neusa,if I can't talk to Angel, how can I do business with him?""Ess simple. You tell me what you wan'. I tell Angel. If he say sf, Itell you s(. If he say no, I tell you no."Lantz distrusted using her as a go-between, but he had no choice."You've heard of Marin Groza?""No."He patted her fat hand. "Angel will know who Groza is. You just sayMarin Groza. He'll know. The people who sent me want him blown away.Killed.""Oh. I'll ass' Angel. Wha' you say the man's name is?"He wanted to shake her. "Groza. Marin Groza."Yeah. My baby's outa town. I'll call him tonight an' meet you heretomorrow. Kin I have 'nother rum?"Neusa Muez was turning out to be a nightmare. How could a man who wassupposed to be as smart as Angel get hooked up with such a rum dummy?THE following night Harry Lantz was seated at the same table in thePilar, intermittently chewing peanuts and his fingernails. At two a.m.he saw Neusa Muez stumble through the door and make her way over to him."Hi," she mumbled, and slumped into a chair."Neusa, did you remember to talk to Angel?"She looked at him vacantly. "Angel? Si. Kin I have a drink, huh?"He ordered a double rum for her and a double Scotch for himself. Heneeded it desperately. "What did Angel say, Neusa?"

,Angel? Oh, he say yeah. Ess okay."Harry Lantz felt a surge of relief. "That's wonderful!" He no longercared about his messenger-boy mission. He had thought of a better idea.Lantz prided himself on being a pro. He was too smart to walk into adeal like this without first checking it ou.t. Before leaving theStates, he had cautiously asked around about Angel, and what hadimpressed him most was that the Israelis had put a price of a milliondollars on his head. This drunken floozy was going to lead him toAngel. He was going to collect that one million dollars.He watched her slop down her drink, spilling some of it on her alreadysoiled blouse. "What else did Angel say?""Angel say he wanna know' who your people are."Lantz gave her a winning smile. "You tell him That's confidential,Neusa. I can't give him that information."She shrugged. "Then Angel say to tell you to get lost."Harry Lantz's mind started working at top speed. "Neusa, I'll telephonethe people I'm working for, and if they give me permission, I'll giveyou a name. Okay?"She nodded, indifferent."You tell Angel I'll have an answer for him by tomorrow. Is theresomeplace I can reach you?"guess so."He was making progress. "Where?""Here."He made the call collect from a telephone booth so it could not betraced. It had taken him one hour to get through."No," the Controller said. "I told you, no r -mmes."Yes, sir. But there's a problem. Neusa Mufiez, Angel's mistress, sayshe's willing to make a deal, but he won't move without knowing who he'sdealing with.""What is this woman like?""She's a fat, ugly moron, sir.""It's much too dangerous for my name to be used."Harry Lantz could feel the deal slipping away from him. "Yes, sir," hesaid earnestly. "The only thing is, sir, Angel's reputation is based onhis being able to keep his mouth shut. If he ever started talking, hewouldn't last five minutes in his business."There was a long silence. "Very well. You may give Angel my name. Buthe is never to divulge it and never to contact me directly. He'll workonly through you."Harry Lantz could have danced. "Yes, sir. I'll tell him. Thank you,sir." He hung up, a big grin on his face. He was going to collect thefifty thousand. And then the million-dollar reward.WHEN Harry Lantz met Neusa Muez late that evening, he immediatelyordered a double rum for her and said happily, "Everything's set. I gotpermission."She looked at him indifferently. "Yeah?"He told her the name of his employer. It was a household word.She shrugged. "Never hearda him.""Neusa, the people I work for want this done as quickly as possible.Marin Groza is hiding out in a villa in Neuilly, and-""Where?""It's a suburb of Paris," he said patiently. "Angel will know.""I need 'nother drink."An hour later Neusa was still drinking, and this time Harry Lantz wasencouraging her. When she's drunk enough, he thought, she's going tolead me straight to her boyfriend. The rest will be easy. "When is

voice. H'm sorry about hanging up a moment ago. Beth thought it wasVirgil, and- Yes, sir. Thank you." She stood there listening. "Would Ibe willing to serve as what?" Her face suddenly flushed.Edward was on his feet, moving toward the phone, the children closebehind him."There must be some mistake, Mr. President. My name is Mary Ashley.I'm a professor at Kansas State University, and- You read it? Thankyou, sir." She listened for a long time. "Yes, sir. I agree. But thatdoesn't mean that I- Yes, sir. I'm sure It's a wonderful opportunity,but I- Of course. I will. I'll talk it over with my husband and getback to you." She picked up a pen and wrote down a number. "Yes, sir. Ihave it. Thank you, Mr. President. Good-bye." She slowly replaced thereceiver and stood there in shock."What in heaven was that all about?" Edward demanded."was it really the President?" Tim asked.Mary sank into a chair. "Yes. It really was."Edward took Mary's hand in his. "Mary, what did he want?"Mary sat there, numb, thinking, So That's why that man was questioningFlorence. She looked up at Edward and the children and said slowly,"The President read my book and the article in Foreign Affairs, and hethought they were brilliant. He said That's the kind of thinking heWants for his people-to-people program. He wants to nominate me asambassador to Remania."There was a look of total disbelief on Edward's face. "You?Why you?"It was exactly'what Mary had asked herself, but she felt Edward couldhave been more tactful. He could have said, How wonderfull You'd make agreat ambassador."You haven't had any political experience.""I'm well aware of that," Mary responded tartly. "I agree that thewhole thing is ridiculous.""Are you going to be the ambassador?" Tim asked.Edward turned to the children. "You two finish your dinner.Your mother and I would like to have a little talk." Edward took Mary'sarm and led her into the library. He turned to her and said, "I'm sorryif I sounded like a pompous jerk in there. It was just such a-""No. You were perfectly right. Why on earth should they have chosenme?""Honey, you'd probably make a great ambassador. But you must admit itcame as a bit of a shock.""Try thunderbolt. I still can't believe it." Mary laughed. "Wait untilI tell Florence. She'll die.""You're really excited about this, aren't you?" asked Edward.She looked at him in surprise. "Of course. Wouldn't you be?"Edward chose his words carefully. "It is a great honor, honey, and I'msure they must have had good reason for choosing you'."He hesitated. "We have to think about this very carefully."She knew what he was going to say, and she thought, Edward's right. Ofcourse he's right."I can't just leave my practice and walk out on my patients. I have tostay here. I don't know how long you'd have to be away, but if itreally means a lot to you, well, maybe you could go over there with thechildren and I could join you whenever-"

Mary said softly, "You crazy man. Nothing means as much to me as youand the children. I could never live away from you."He took her in his arms. "Are you sure?""I'm positive. It was exciting being asked. That's enough."THE following morning Mary dialed the number that the President hadgiven her. "This is Mrs. Edward Ashley. The Presidents assistant, Mr.Greene, is expecting my call.""One moment, please."A male voice on the other end said, "Hello. Mrs. Ashley?""Yes," Mary said. "Would yo. "Please give the President a message forme? That I'm very, very flattered by his offer, but my husband'sprofession ties him down here, so I'm afraid it would be impossible forme to accept. I hope he understands.""I'll pass on your message," the voice said noncommittally. "Thank you,Mrs. Ashley." The line went dead.Mary slowly replaced the receiver. It was done. For one briefmoment a tantalizing dream had been offered her. But that was all itwas. A dream. This isomy real world, she thought. I'd better getready for my first class.Manama, Bahrein. The whitewashed stone house was anonymous, hiddenamong dozens of identical houses a short walk from the souks, the large,colorful outdoor markets. It was owned by a merchant sympathetic to thecause of Patriots for Freedom.The chairman was speaking to the men gathered in the living room. "Aproblem has arisen. The motion that was recently passed has run intodifficulty. The go-between we selected Harry Lantz-was murdered. Hisbody was found floating in the harbor in Buenos Aires.""Do the police have any idea who did it?" Balder asked. "I mean, canthey connect this to us in any way?""No. We're perfectly safe."Thor asked, "What about our plan? Can we go ahead with it?""Not at the moment. We have no idea how to reach Angel. However, theController gave Harry Lantz permission to reveal his name to him. IfAngel is interested in our proposition, he will find a way to get intouch with him. All we can do now is wait."THE man directly responsible for Marin Groza's safety was Roland Passy,the French minister of defense. Gendarmes were stationed in front ofthe villa -in Neuilly twenty-four hours a day, but it was the knowledgethat Ley Pastemak was in charge of the villa's inner security that gavePassy confidence. He had seen the security arrangements himself and wasfirmly convinced that the house was impregnable.In recent weeks rumors had been sweeping the diplomatic world that acoup was imminent, that Marin Groza was planning to return to Remania,and that Alexandres lonescu was going to be deposed by his seniormilitary officers.Ley Pastemak knocked on the door and entered the bookcrammed librarythat served as Mann Groza's office. Groza was seated behind his desk,working."Everybody wants to know when the revolution is going to happen,"Pastemak said. "It's the world's worst-kept secret."Tell them to be patient. Will you come to Bucharest with me, Ley?"More than anything Ley Pastemak yearned to return to Israel. "I'll only

the dusty Renault sedan that was cruising by. Angel drove slowly,although not slowly enough to arouse suspicion, taking everything in.There were two guards in front, a high wall, probably electrified, andinside" of course, would be the usual electronic nonsense of beams,sensors, and alarms. It would take an army to storm the villa. But Idon't need an army, Angel thought. Only my genius. Marin Groza is adead man. If only my mother were alive to see how rich I have become.ow happy it would have made her.In Argentina podr families were very poor indeed, and Angel's mother hadbeen of the poorest. Through the years Angel had watched friends andrelatives die of hunger and sickness. Death was a way of life, and Angelthought philosophically, Since it is going to happen anyway, why notmake a profit from it? In the beginning there were those who doubtedAngel's lethal talents, but people who tried to put roadblocks in theway had a habit of disappearing. Angel's reputation as an assassingrew. I have never failed, Angel thought. I am Angel. The Angel ofDeath.Chapter FiveTHE snow-covered Kansas highway was ablaze with flashing red lights thatturned the frosty air blood red. In the center of a circle of vehicles,ringed by headlights, sat the five-ton M871 army tractor-trailer, andpartially beneath it, Edward Ashley's crumpled car. A dozen policeofficers and firemen were milling around, trying to keep warm in thepredawn freeze. In the middle of the highway, covered by a tarpaulin,was a body.A sheriffs car skidded to a stop, and Mary Ashley ran out of it. She wastrembling so hard that she could barely stand. Sheriff Monster grabbedher arm. "I wouldn't look at him if I were you, Mrs. Ashley.""Let go of me!" She was screaming. She shook loose from his grasp andstarted toward the tarpaulin."Please, Mrs. Ashley. You don't want to see what he looks like." Hecaught her as she fainted.She woke up in the back seat of Sheriff Monster's car. He was sittingin the front seat watching her. The heater was on, and the car wasstifling. Mary stared out the window at all the flashing red lights,andthought, It's a scene from hell. In spite of the heat, her teeth werechattering. "How did- How did it h-happen?""He ran the stop sign. An army truck was comin' along Seventyseven andtried to avoid im, but your husband drove right out in front of him."She closed her eyes and saw the truck bearing down on Edward and felthis panic. All she could say was, "Edward was a c-careful driver. Hewould never run a stop sign."The sheriff said sympathetically, "Mrs. Ashley, we have eyewitnesses. Apriest and two nuns, and a Colonel Jenkins from ,Fort Riley. They allsaid your husband ran the stop sign."Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Finally, shewatched as Edward's body was lifted into the ambulance.Sheriff Monster said, "They returned him to the morgue. I'd best getyou back home. What's the name of your family doctor?""Edward Ashley," Mary said. "Edward Ashley is my family doctor."

voices from a distance.The church was filled to overflowing. There were dozens of wreaths andbouquets. On 'e of the largest wreaths had a card that read simply "Mydeepest sympathy. Paul Ellison."The casket with Edward's body in it was closed. Mary could not bear tothink of the reason.The minister was speaking. "Lord, thou hast been our dwelling . placein all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or everthou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting toeverlasting, thou art God. Therefore, we will not fear, though theearth doth change, and though the mountains be shaken into the heart ofthe seas. . . ."She and Edward were in the small sailboat on Milford Lake."Do you like to sail?" he had asked on their first date."I've never been sailing.""Saturday," he said. "We have a date."They were married one week later."Do you know why I married you, lady?" Edward teased. "You passed thetest. You laughed a lot and you didn't fall overboard."When the service ended, Mary, Beth, and Tim got into the long blacklimousine that led the funeral procession to the cemetery. Because ofthe numbing cold, the graveside ceremony was kept brief.I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though hewere dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in meshall never die. I am he that liveth, and was dead; and, behold, I amalive for evermore."Finally, mercifully, it was over. Mary and the children watched thecasket being lowered into the frozen, unearing earth. Goodbye, mydarling.IN AN office at CID headquarters Shel Planchard, the CID officer, wastalking to Colonel Jenkins. "i'm afraid I have some bad news, sir.Sergeant Wallis, the driver of the truck that killed the civilian doctor... He had a fatal heart attack this morning.""That's a shame," said Colonel Jenkins."Yes, sir," the CID man said'. "His body is being cremated thismorning. It was very sudden.""Unfortunate. Well, I won't be here much longer. I'm being transferredoverseas." Jenkins allowed himself a small smile. "A rather importantpromotion.""Congratulations, sir. You've earned it."Edward's death was the beginning of an unbearable hell for Mary Ashley.Everything within her screamed to deny what had happened to him, but thereality kept hitting her in fresh waves of shock.Florence and Douglas and other friends often stayed with her, trying tomake things easier, but Mary wished they would go away and leave heralone. When it was time to dispose of Edward's personal things,Florence offered to help her, but Mary said, "No. Edward would havewanted me to do it."There were so many small, intimate things. Moving like an automaton,she ran her fingers over suits he would never again wear. The blue tiehe had worn on their last night together. His gloves and scarf thatkept him warm. He would not need them in his cold grave.She found love notes they had written to each other, bringing backmemories of the lean days when Edward started his own practice, a

Thanksgiving dinner without a turkey, summer picnics and winter sleighrides, her first pregnancy and both of them reading and playingclassical music to Beth while she was in the womb, the love letterEdward wrote when Tim was born, and a hundred other wonderful thingsthat brought tears to her eyes. His death was like some cruel magician'strick.Edward was everywhere. He was in the songs Mary heard on the radio, inthe hills they had driven through together. He was in bed at her sidewhen she awoke at sunrise.She began to talk to him: I'm worried about the children, Edward. Theydon't want to go to school. Beth says they're afraid that when they gethome, I won't be here. The dean wanted to know whether I planned to goback to teaching at the university. I told im not now. The childrenneed me too much. Do you think Is-,Would go back one day?Edward would never leave her and the children. He was there, somewhere.THERE was a popular bar on the Boulevard Bineau that Marin' Groza'sguards frequented when they were not on duty at the villa in Neuilly.Angel selected a table where conversations could be overheard. Theguards, away from the rigid routine of the villa, liked to drink, andwhen they drank, they talked. Angel listened, seeking the villa'svulnerable point. There was always a vulnerable point. One simply hadto be clever enough to find it.It was three days before Angel overheard a conversation that gave theclue to the solution of the problem. A guard was saying, "Groza surewhips himself viciously. You should hear the screaming that goes onevery Friday night. last week I got a look at the whips he keeps in hiscloset. . .It was all Angel needed.Early the following morning Angel changed rental cars and drove a Fiatinto Paris. The shop was on the Place Pigalle, in a section populatedby prostitutes. Angel went inside, walking slowly along the aisles,carefully studying the merchandise. At length Angel selected a whip,paid cash for it, and left.The next afternoon Angel brought the whip back to the shop. The managerlooked up and growled, "No refunds.""I don't want a refund," Angel explained. "I feel awkward carrying thisaround. I would appreciate it if you would mail it for me. I'll payextra, of course."That evening Angel was on a plane to Buenos Aires.THE whip, carefully wrapped, arrived at the villa in Neuilly thefollowing day. It was intercepted by the guard at the gatehouse. Heopened the package and examined the whip with great care, thinking, Youwould think the old man had enough of these already. He passed itthrough, and another guard took it to Marin Groza's bedroom closet,where he placed it with the other whips.Mary was preparing dinner when the telephone rang, and she picked it up,an operator said, "This is the White House. The President is callingMrs. Edward Ashley. Please hold."Moments later the familiar voice was on the line. "Mrs. Ashley, thisis Paul Ellison. I just want you to know how terribly sorry we are

about your husband. I understand he'was a fine man.""Thank you, Mr. President. It was kind of you to send flowers.""I don't want to intrude on your privacy, Mrs. Ashley, and I know It'sbeen a very short time, but now that your domestic situation haschanged, I'm asking you to reconsider my offer of an ambassadorship.""Thank you, but I couldn't possibly-""Hear me out, please. I'm having someone fly out there to talk to you.His name is Stanton Rogers. I would appreciate it if you would at leastmeet with him."She did not know what to say. How could she explain that her life hadbeen shattered, that all that mattered now were Beth and Tim? "I'llmeet with him, Mr. President," she said. "But I won't change my mind."Stanton Rogers telephoned Mary right after the Presiden's call. "Ipromise to make my visit as brief as possible, Mrs. Ashley. I plan tofly in Monday afternoon to see you, if That's all right."He's such an important man and he's being so polite, Mary thought. "Thatwill be fine." In a reflex action she asked, "Would you care to havedinner with us?"He hesitated, thinking what a boring evening it would be. "Thank you,"he said.Stanton Rogers was a formidable man, Mary decided. She had seen him onMeet the Press and in news photographs, but she thought, He looks bikeerin person. He was polite, but there was, something distant about him."Permit me to convey again the Presiden's sincere regrets about yourterrible tragedy, Mrs. Ashley.""Thank you." Mary introduced him to Beth and Tim. They made small talkwhile she went to check the pot roast.When Mary had told Florence Schiller that Stanton Rogers was coming fordinner and that she was making a pot roast, Florence -had said, "Peoplelike Mr. Rogers don't eat pot roast.""Oh? What do they eat?" Mary had asked."Chateaubriand and crepes suzette.""Well, we're having pot roast."Along with the pot roast Mary had prepared creamed mashed potatoes,fresh vegetables, and a salad. She had baked a pumpkin pie for dessert.Stanton Rogers finished everything on -his plate.During dinner Mary and he talked about the colorful history of junctionCity. Finally he brought the conversation around to Remania. "Do youthink there will be a revolution there?" he asked."Not in the present circumstances. The only man powerful enough todepose lonescu is Marin Groza, who's in exile."The questioning went on. Mary Ashley was an expert on the iron curtaincountries, and Stanton Rogers was impressed.The President was right, he thought. She really is an authority on]Remania. And there is something more. She's beautiful. She and thechildren make an all-American package that will sell. Stanton foundhimself getting more and more excited by the prospect. She can be moreuseful than she realizes.At the end of the evening Stanton Rogers said, "Mrs. Ashley, I'm goingto be frank with you. Initially I was against the President appointingyou to a post as sensitive as Remania. I told him as much. I tell youthis now because I've changed my mind. I think you will make anexcellent ambassador."Mary shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Rogers. I'm no politician. I'man amateur.""Mrs. Ashley, some of our finest ambassadors have been amateurs. Thatis to say, their experience was not in the Foreign Service. WalterAnnenberg, our former ambassador to the United Kingdom, was a publisher.John Kenneth Galbraith, our ambassador to India, was a professor. Icould give you a dozen more examples. These people were all what youwould call amateurs. What they had, Mrs. Ashley, was intelligence, alove for their country, and goodwill toward the people of the countrywhere they were sent to serve."

they came in. Goodness, he thought; they look like a Norman Rockwellpainting.An attendant seated the children in a front row, and Mary was escortedto the witness chair, facing the committee.The questions started innocently enough. Senator Charles Campbell, thechairman of the committee and a supporter of President Ellison, spokefirst. "According to the biography we've been furnished, Mrs. Ashley,you're a native of Kansas, and for the last several years you've taughtpolitical science at Kansas State University. Is that correct?""Yes, sir." Mary was so nervous she could barely speak."Your grandparents were Remanian?""My grandfather. Yes, sir.""An article you wrote was published in Foreign Affairs magazine and cameto the attention of the President?""That's my understanding.""Mrs. Ashley, would you kindly tell this committee what the basicpremise of your article is?""Several regional economic pacts currently exist in the world, andbecause they are mutually exclusive they serve to divide the world intoantagonistic and competitive blocs." She felt as though she wereconducting a seminar, and her nervousness began to disappear."My premise is simple," she continued. "I would like to see our countryspearhead a movement to form a common market that includes allies andadversaries alike. Today, as- an example, we're paying billions ofdollars to store surplus grain,,while people in dozens of countries arestarving. The one-world common market could cure inequities ofdistribution, at fair market prices. I would like to try to make thathappen."Senator Harold Turkel, a senior member of the committee and a leader ofthe opposition party, spoke up. "I'd like to ask the nominee a fewquestions. Is this your first time in Washington, Mrs. Ashley?""Yes, sir. I think It's one of the most-""Have you ever been to New York?""No, sir.""California?""No, sir.""Have you, in fact, ever been outside the state of Kansas?""Yes. I gave a lecture at the University of Chicago and a series oftalks in Denver and Atlanta.""That must have been very exciting for you, Mrs. Ashley," Turkel saiddryly. "You expect to represent the United States in an iron curtaincountry, and you're telling us that your entire knowledge of the worldcomes from living in junction City, Kansas."Mary held back her temper. "No, sir. My knowledge of the world comesfrom studying it. I have a Ph.D. in political science, and I've beenteaching at Kansas State University for five years, with an emphasis onthe iron curtain countries. I'm familiar with the current problems ofthe Remanian people, and with what their government thinks of the UnitedStates and why. I-" She broke off, afraid she had gone too far. Andthen, to her surprise, the committee started to applaud. All exceptTurkel.The questioning went on. One hour later Senator Campbell asked, "Arethere any more questions?""I think the nominee has expressed herself very clearly," one of theSenators commented.

"I agree. Thank you, Mrs. Ashley. This session is adjourned.Pete Connors studied Mary thoughtfully a moment, then quietly left asthe members of the press swarmed around her."Turn this way, Mrs. Ashley. Smile, please. One more."Mrs. Ashley-"Ben Cohn stood apart from the others, watching and listening. She'sgood, he thought; she has all the right answers. But there wassomething about her nomination that puzzled him. The problem was thathe was not sure what it was.When Mary arrived back at the hotel, emotionally drained, Stanton Rogerstelephoned. "Hello, Madam Ambassador."She felt giddy with relief "You mean I'm going to make it? Oh, Stan, Ican't tell you how excited I am.""So am I, Mary." His voice was filled with pride. "So am I."THE final confirmation was almost a formality. The full Senate votedMary in by a comfortable majority. President Ellison said to. StantonRogers, "Our plan is under way, Stan. Nothing can stop us now.Rogers nodded. "Nothing," he agreed.PETE Connors was in his office when he heard the news. He immediatelywrote out a message and encoded it., One of his men was on duty in theCIA cable room."I want to use the Roger Channel," Connors said. "Wait outside." TheRoger Channel is the CIgs ultraprivate cable system, only for topexecutives. The cable was addressed to Sigmund.MARY Ashley was sworn in as the ambassador to the Socialist Republic ofRemania, and the treadmill began. She was ordered to report to theBureau of European Affairs at the State Department. There she wasassigned a small, boxlike office next to the Remanian desk.James Stickley, the Remanian desk officer, was a career diplomat, withtwenty-five years in the service. He was in his late fifties, with afoxlike face and pale, cold eyes. He was considered the foremost experton the Remanian desk and had fully expected to be appointed ambassadorto Remania. The news about Mary Ashley was a bitter blow. It was badenough to have been passed over, but to have lost out to a politicalappointee-an unknown hayseed from Kansas-was galling.He studied Mary Ashley now, as she sat across from his desk.Mary was also studying Stickley. There is something meanlooking abouthim, she thought."We're going to have to make an instant expert out of you." He handedher an armful of files. "You can start by reading these.""I'll dedicate my morning to it.""No. Now I want to introduce you to your military attaches, ColonelWilliam McKinney. And in thirty minutes you're scheduled to begin alanguage course in Remanian. The course usually takes months, but Ihave orders to push you through the mill."Bill McKinney wore mufd, but his military bearing was like a uniform. Hewas a tall middle-aged man, with a seamed, weathered face."Madam Ambassador." His voice was rough and gravelly, as though histhroat had suffered an injury."I'm pleased to meet you," Mary said. Colonel McKinney was her firststaff member, and meeting him gave her a sense of excitement. It seemed

to bring her new position much closer. "Have you been to Remaniabefore?"The colonel and James Stickley exchanged a look."He's been there before,"." Stickley replied.EVERY day Mary and Stickley went through the files of the Remanian desktogether."I'll be reading the cables you send in," Stickley informed her. "Theywill be yellow copies for action, or white copies for information.Duplicates of your cables will go to Defense, the CIA, the USIA, theTreasury Department, and a dozen other departments. One of the firstissues you'll be expected to resolve is Americans being, held inRemanian prisons. We want their release.""What are they charged with?""Espionage, drugs, theft-anything the Remanians want to charge themwith."Mary wondered how on earth one went about getting a charge of espionagedismissed.Right," she said briskly."I'm going to give you a package," Stickley announced. "Don't let it outof your hands. It's for your eyes only. Read it and digest it, andreturn it to me personally tomorrow morning." He handed Mary a thickmanila envelope sealed with red tape. "Sign for it, please."She signed.During the ride back to the hotel Mary clutched it to her lap, feelinglike a character in a James Bond movie. ,The children were dressed, up and waiting for her.Oh, dear, Mary remembered. I promised to take them to a Chinese dinnerand a movie. "Fellas," she said, "we'll have to make our excursionanother evening. I have some urgent work to do.""Sure, Mom.""Okay."And Mary thought, Before Edward died, they would have screamed likebanshees. But they've had to grow up. She took them both in her arms."I'll make it up to you," she promised.The material James Stickley had given her was -incredible. No wonder hewants this right back, Mary thought. There were detailed reports onevery important Remanian official, from the President to the minister ofcommerce. There was a dossier on their private habits, financialdealings, friendships, personal traits, and prejudices. Some of thereading was lurid. Mary was up half the night memorizing the names andpeccadilloes of the people with whom she would be dealing.In the morning she returned the secret documents.Stickley said, "Now you know everything you should know about theRemanian leaders.""And then some," Mary murmured."There's something you should bear in mind: by now the Remanians alsoknow everything there is to know about you.""That won't get them far," Mary said."No?" Stickley leaned back in his chair. "You're a woman, and you'realone. You can be sure they've already marked you as an easy target.They'll play on your loneliness. Every move you make will be watchedand recorded."He's trying to frighten me, Mary thought. Well, it won't work.TIME became a blur, a whirlwind of activity that left Mary exhausted.Besides language lessons, her schedule included a course at the ForeignService Institute, briefings at the Defense Intelligence Agency,

"That is correct, but-""Then I am unchoosing Mr. Slade. I don't want him.""Under ordinary circumstances you would be within your rights, but inthis case I'm afraid you have no choice. The order came from the WhiteHouse."In the days that followed, Mary could not seem to avoid Mike Slade. Theman was everywhere. She ran into him in the Pentagon, in the Senatedining room, in the corridors of the State Department. He was alwaysdressed in either denims and a Tshirt or in sport clothes. Marywondered how he got away with it in an environment that was so formal.One day Mary saw him having lunch with Colonel McKinney, her militaryattaches. They were engaged in an earnest conversation, and Marywondered how close the two men were. Could they be old friends? Andcould they be planning to gang up on me? I'm, getting paranoid, Marytold herself. And I'm not even in Remania yet.BEN Cohn was seated at a corner table at Mama Regina's when his lunchguest, Alfred Shuttleworth, arrived. The headwaiter seated him."Would you care fora drink, gentlemen?"Shuttleworth ordered a martini."Nothing for me," Ben Cohn said.Alfred Shuttleworth was a sallow-looking middle-aged man who worked inthe European Affairs section of the State Department. A few yearsearlier he had been involved in a drunkdriving accident that Ben Cohnhad covered for his newspaper, Shuttleworth's career had been at stake.Cohn had killed the story, and Shuttleworth showed his appreciation bygiving him news tips from time to time."I need your help, AI.""Name it, and you've got it.""I'd like the inside information on our new ambassador to Remania."Alfred Shuttleworth frowned. "What do you mean?""AI, Lindbergh never had a buildup like this. Here's this Cinderella,who comes out of nowhere, is touched by the magic wand of our President,and suddenly becomes the nation's number one celebrity and politicalsavant." Now, I'll admit the lady is pretty but she isn't that pretty.The lady is bright-but she isn't that bright. I'll tell you somethingelse That's out of killer. I flew to junction City, Kansas, herhometown, and talked to the sheriff there." Ben Cohn paused."Go on," Shuttleworth said."Mrs. Ashley originally turned down the President because her husbandcouldn't leave his medical practice. Then he was killed in a convenientauto accident. Voildl The lady's in Washington, on her way toBucharest. Exactly as someone had planned from the beginning.""Someone? Who?""That's the jackpot question.""Ben, what are you suggesting?""I'm not suggesting anything. Let me tell you what Sheriff Monstersuggested. He thought it was peculiar that half a dozen people showedup in the middle of a freezing winter night just in time to Witness theaccident. And do you want to hear something even more peculiar? They'veall disappeared.""Go on.""The driver of the army truck that killed Dr. Ashley is dead of a heartattack. Twenty-seven years old. Colonel Jenkins-the officer in charge

anyone who disagrees with the Remanian government."At last they reached the center of Bucharest, which was very beautiful.There were parks and monuments and fountains everywhere one looked. Maryremembered her grandfather saying, "Bucharest is a miniature Paris,Mary. They even have a replica of the Eiffel Tower." And there it was.She was in the homeland of her forefathers.The streets were crowded with people and streetcars, and the limousinehad to honk its way through the traffic."The residence is just ahead," Colonel McKinney said as the car turnedinto a small tree-lined street.The ambassador's residence was a large and beautiful oldfashionedthree-story house surrounded by lovely grounds. The staff was lined upoutside, waiting to welcome Mary.jerry Davis made the introductions. "Mihai, your butler; Rosica, yourhousekeeper; Cosma, your chef; and Delia and Carmen, your maids."Mary moved down the line receiving their bows and curtsies. They allseemed to be waiting for her to say something. She took a deep breath."Bunaziua. Mulfumesc. Nu vorbesc-" Every bit of Remanian she hadlearned flew out of her head. She stared at them helplessly.Mihai, the butler, bowed. "We all speak English, ma'am. We welcome youand shall be happy to serve your every need."Mary sighed with relief. "Thank you.""Let me show you around," jerry Davis said.On the ground floor there was a library, a music room, a living room, alarge dining room, a kitchen, and a pantry. A terrace ran the length ofthe building outside the dining room, facing a large park. At the rearof the house was an indoor swimming pool."Our own swimming pool!" Tim exclaimed. "Can I go swimming?""Later, darling. Let's get settled in first."The pidce de rdsistance was the ballroom, built near the garden. It wasenormous. Glistening Baccarat sconces lined the walls, which werecovered with flocked paper.jerry Davis said, "This is where the embassy parties are given. Watchthis." He pressed a switch on the wall. There was a gnding noise, andthe ceiling began to split in the center, opening up until the skybecame visible. "It can also be operated manually.""Hey, That's neatly" Beth exclaimed."It's called the Ambassador's Folly," jerry explained. "It's too hot tokeep open in the summer and too cold in the winter. We use it in Apriland September." As the cold air started to descend, he pressed theswitch and the ceiling closed.They followed him upstairs to a large central hall that led to thebedrooms."The third floor has servants' quarters," jerry continued. "In., thebasement is a wine cellar.""It's-It's enormous," Mary said."Which is my room?" Beth asked."You and Tim can decide that between yourselves.""You can have this one," Tim offered. "It's frilly. Girls like frillythings."The master bedroom was lovely, with a queen-size bed with a goose-downcomforter, two couches before a fireplace, a dressing table, and awonderful view of the garden. Mary was so exhausted she could hardlywait to get into bed.THE American embassy in Bucharest is a white, semi-Gothic two-storybuilding with. an iron gate in front. The entrance is guarded by amarine officer, and a second marine sits inside a security booth at theside of the gate.Inside, the lobby isornate. It has a marble floor, two closed circuittelevision sets at a desk guarded by a marine, and a fireplace. Thecorridors are lined with portraits of U.S. Presidents. A windingstaircase leads to the second floor, where a conference room and officesare located.The guard was waiting for Mary at the desk. "Good morning, MadamAmbassador. I'm Sergeant Hughes. They call me Gunny. They're waitingfor you upstairs. I'll escort you there."