Undeceived (4 page)

“Thank you for the wine,” he said as he stood up. He handed her the glass. “It was good to meet you.”

“Thank you for the lift home.”

“I’ll see you Monday at the embassy.”

She escorted him to the door, said good night, and before he could say anything else, she closed it behind him.

***

Darby Kent swaggered to his car, shaking his head when the vehicle parked across the street pulled out after him. They were so very obvious. Since when had espionage gotten this sloppy? Or maybe they were sending a blatant message to State Department employees that said, “Remember, we’re always watching.”

At least Liz Hertford seemed to have potential. It would have been nice to have an officer with some experience, but her eager motivation had a certain appeal to an old, worn-out station chief like himself. Although he wasn’t a station chief now—as she’d made sure to remind him. He was just the number one case officer in Budapest. For the present.

At any rate, her language expertise would help tremendously. He chuckled to himself, pretty confident she’d blasted him in Hungarian with an insult or two. But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember any insult that used the words “lovely eyes.” So perhaps she hadn’t been completely unaffected by his charm, even if it was only an act.

Now, I’m to turn up the heat, so that when I finally bring you to him, he can complete the process of turning you. He says there is history between you. History that you are aware of. Have you been in bed with the enemy before, my friend? My esteemed colleague?

Chapter 5

US Embassy, Budapest
May 1982

“Miss Hertford?”

“Yes, Bill?” Liz had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes. Collins interrupted her a dozen times a day.

“Mr. Kent requires a minute of your time.”

“Mr. Kent…”

“He’s the former head of the glassworks company that is consulting with the Hungarian government.”

“I know who he is, Bill,” she replied, exasperated. “Mr. Kent has been in here seven times already this week. What does he want now?”

“Uh…” She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, little squirrels racing like mad around a wheel. “I’ll check,” he said quickly and disappeared.

Liz shook her head and went back to work.

Bill reappeared in the doorway. “He says he wants—” He was interrupted by Darby Kent himself striding through the door.

“He wants a financial analysis translated into English. Immediately.” Darby Kent shut the door in Bill’s face with no apology, completely ignoring the frown on it. He spun on his heel and approached Liz’s desk.

“I know he’s not your favorite person,” she whispered. “He gets on my nerves too, but you don’t have to be so rude to him.”

“He expects it. So, I have a little problem on my hands.”

She put her fingers to her lips in a gesture of “shh” that made him stare at her.
“Bugged, remember?”
she mouthed silently.

“I know that,”
he mouthed back. Then he spoke aloud. “I can read the numbers on this report just fine, but I need the information in the narrative, and it’s written in Hungarian.” He studied her for a moment then sent her a pointed look. “But I can see you’re busy. Perhaps we can review it tonight over dinner?”

“I already have dinner plans, Mr. Kent.”

He rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb in frustration toward the door.
“Out!”
he mouthed at her. Aloud, he went on, his stern expression in direct contrast with the suggestive tone of his voice. “Maybe you could reschedule them. And what’s with all the ‘Mr.’ business? We don’t have to be so damned formal, Miss Hertford. If we’re going to be working closely together, you should call me Darby.” His lips quirked into a sardonic one-sided smile. “I make a mean Hungarian goulash. Does seven o’clock work for you?”

“We can certainly discuss your report over lunch if you’d like.” She reached for her jacket. “Does that suit you?”

“Since I can’t wine and dine you, I suppose it will have to do. For now.” He followed her out into the hallway and down to the front entrance. After holding the door for her, he stalked out into the street.

“What are you trying to pull?” she demanded quietly as they strode down the street toward the little cafe.

“Haven’t you ever heard of ‘talking to the walls’? The most realistic cover for us is a personal relationship, i.e., an affair. How can I convince state security of that scenario if I only see you inside that bug-ridden embassy? We have to act the part.”

Liz frowned. “It doesn’t mean you have to hit on me every time you come in there.”

“It certainly does mean that,” he said stiffly. “They would never believe I’d spend so much time with you if we weren’t…you know.”

Liz narrowed her eyes, zipped her lips, and kept walking. Someday the man was going to pay for all the insults he tossed her way. If she’d learned anything in her young life, it was that karma was indeed a bitch.

“So you might as well quit playing hard to get. I need your help.”

“A translation?”

“No,” he replied, looking off into the distance. “It’s a personnel issue. One of my assets has a daughter, a young woman about your age. She’s ill. The local physician says she has pneumonia. It’s her third bout of serious illness in a year, and my asset wants her to have a medical assessment in England or the States. I’ve tried to put him off, but he says he’ll quit doling out information if we don’t comply with his request immediately. I need him. He’s my best contact inside the commerce sector of the Hungarian government, and all the intelligence worth gathering in this country is about commerce.”

“You’ll have to call headquarters for this. I can’t pull the kind of strings needed to get her out, and neither can the ambassador.”

“Obviously.” His impatient tone betrayed his frustration. “The exit papers aren’t the problem. With enough lead time, I can have them forged. I’m already working on it.”

“Then what is the problem?”

“My asset is throwing a fit because he says she needs medical care right now. Currently, she’s living in their countryside home under the care of a woman from the village.”

“Where’s the girl’s mother?”

“Dead for many years, and with her father here in Budapest, there’s no one else to care for her. He’s afraid to leave the daughter with just anyone for a variety of reasons, and I’m afraid to lose his intelligence information. The only way he’ll stay in the field is if I find a qualified person to watch over her and directly supervise her care until she’s cleared to leave.”

Liz could see exactly where this was going. “You want me to care for her? I’m not a doctor, Mr. Kent.”

“It’s only for a few weeks at the outside. And you do have some medical training; it’s in your dossier.”

“I don’t care what headquarters put in my dossier. Don’t you think the KGB and Hungarian secret police will suspect something if I disappear from my job for a few weeks?”

“That’s why I’m hitting on you, Ms. Hertford. A romantic getaway to beautiful Lake Balaton is the op’s cover.”

“That would mean…”

“I’m coming with you, yes.” He opened the door of the cafe and found a small table in the corner to discourage other patrons from joining them. “Actually, I’ll be there before you. I’ll have the daughter moved into one of our safe houses and pretend you and I are having a secret rendezvous there.”

“What logical reason would we have to leave town? Why the big secret getaway? We could ‘rendezvous’ right here in Budapest.” She shook her head. “State security won’t buy it.”

“I’ve already thought of that. We’ll put about that we have to hide in the countryside because I’m married.”

“Which begs the obvious question…”

“What?”

“Who on earth would marry you?”

He smiled. “Ha-ha. Let me clarify. Darby Kent is married.”

“This whole cover makes me look like the worst sort of tramp.”

“Necessary evil.”

“Who thinks up these stupid scenarios anyway?”

“The same bureaucrats who sent me, the heir apparent to the Soviet station chief position, to Hungary as a case officer.” He picked up the menu. “So, you better put on a good flirt for me, Liz darling, because I’m whisking you off to a charming little village near Lake Balaton day after tomorrow.” He leaned forward, a smug smile on his face. “By the way, sweetheart, Hungarian secret police just came in the door.” He stared into her eyes, mocking her even as he smiled in a way that made her insides heat up.

“You’re such an ass,” she whispered, and took a sip of her wine, putting on a fake, sultry smile of her own.

He covered her hand with his. “And yet, you’re crazy about me.”

***

That afternoon, Liz ascended the stairs to the embassy safe house. She had a call to make, and it had to be shielded from the outside world and its unfriendly ears.

Head down, she dug in her purse as she made her way along the plush carpeted hall. After retrieving her key and unlocking the door, she began to dial the combination lock, a second level of security to access the room. Suddenly, the force of someone behind the heavy panel nearly knocked her off her feet. She squeaked, and a familiar face with oversized glasses and sandy hair peeked around the door.

“Oh! Excuse me, Ms. Hertford! Excuse me! I’m so sorry.” Bill Collins looked extremely flustered.

“Bill!” She put a hand over her heart. “Geez, you startled me! What possessed you to come out that door like a house afire?”

“Oh, um…had a call to make. To headquarters.” He looked nervously up and down the hallway. “I have clearance. Certainly, yes.”

“I see.”

He stood, barricading the entry to the safe room, staring at her.

“Well, then.” Another pause. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Yes?”

“I need to call in.”

“What?”

She gestured at the door. “I need to call in.”

“Oh!” He laughed. “Of course. I needed to call in myself.” He stepped around and held the door for her. “Forgive me.”

“You know, you really shouldn’t just let me in the safe room. For all you know, I could be one of those dreaded double agents.”

“Oh, not you, Ms. Hertford.” He cocked his head to the side and looked at her, puzzled.

“No, not me. Still.”

“Follow protocol. Yes, that’s good advice. Thank you.”

She sighed and walked around him into the safe room. His earnest face was the last thing she saw as the door shut behind her.

Elizabeth picked up the phone and dialed. He answered on the second ring. “Wickham.”

“Calling in.”

“Hey, gorgeous.” George Wickham’s voice warmed as he recognized her.

“New development.”

“Really?”

“Single Man is moving personnel to the other side.”

“Asset?”

“No—family.”

“A whole family?”

“No, just one person.”

“Through Czechoslovakia or Austria?”

“Not sure yet. She’s not well enough to travel, so it might be a few weeks. I’m to help him.”

“You’ll be away from the embassy?”

“Yes. I’ll be out of touch. There’s no secure way to contact you from Lake Balaton, I’m assuming.”

“Hmm. Not sure. I’ll look and try to get you a message.”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, stay vigilant. It worries me that he’s spiriting you off by yourself somewhere unprotected.”

“I won’t be alone. We’re staying at the ambassador’s house, and his wife will be there.”

“That’s for the best. We’ll feel more comfortable if you aren’t completely on your own with him, even if the other companion is the ambassador’s ditzy wife.”

“She should keep Single Man occupied at any rate. I’m supposed to be the love interest, but it looks like I’ll have to wait in line. As if I’d ever consider such a thing.”

Wickham laughed. “You’ve got him pegged, rookie.”

Elizabeth grinned, even though she was alone in the room. “Gotta go.”

“You bet. Keep me posted.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Be careful.”

Chapter 6

Liz stared out the window, swaying with the rhythm of the train’s clickety-clack over the rails. Back when she first joined the agency and told her mom she wanted to see the world, adventures like this were exactly what she envisioned. The bucolic splendor of the Hungarian countryside was charming, reminding her in some ways of the rural parts of Virginia she traveled between McLean and her mother’s home in West Virginia. There were mountains in the background, farmland all around, and forests of oak and beech in the hills to the north.

“Badacsonytördemic-Szigliget,” the conductor announced. Elizabeth leaned over and saw a blue sign confirming her stop. She stood as the train lurched forward and nearly lost her balance, smiling apologetically to the older couple sitting beside her. The passenger car began to empty, and she wondered how she would find the villa where Johanna Bodnar had been moved on Darby’s request.

She stepped off the train and lifted her face toward the warm spring sunshine. A cool breeze ruffled her hair. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before turning her attention to the mission at hand.

She immediately headed for the train station, a run-down wooden building that resembled a fast-food drive-in with its ticket windows and wooden handrails designed to keep the passengers in some semblance of lines. She approached one of the uniformed men standing near the building and spoke in near perfect Hungarian.

“Excuse me, sir. Is there a map?”

He glared at her and jerked his head toward the ticket window, indicating either that he didn’t know or it was beneath him to say so.

“Erzsebet!”

Liz turned at the sound of a woman calling her Hungarian name and saw Cara Hurst, the US ambassador’s wife, about twenty yards away, waving her hand like a beauty queen. Darby Kent stood beside her, hands in his pockets and his typical scowl in place. With a world-weary sigh, Liz joined them.

“Darling!” Mrs. Hurst greeted her in German. “How was your trip? It must have been very trying. You look a mess. Doesn’t she look a mess, Mr. Kent?”

Liz looked down at her wrinkled skirt and fought the urge to step away as she felt Cara’s hand try to smooth down her wind-blown hair. She glanced up at Darby and saw him slip into Ogling Admirer mode in a fraction of a second. He smiled, and damned if it didn’t make her heart speed up. Liz hated him for that.

“I think she looks lovely. Welcome to Szigliget, Liz.” He took her bag and her elbow as he led her away. “The car is this way.” He kept a proprietary arm around her, opening the back car door when Cara slid into the front seat. Liz smiled, imagining the elegant ambassador’s wife calling, “Shotgun!” so she could sit beside him.

“Is Johanna at this Alsómező house you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Darby replied. “They brought her in yesterday.”

“Poor, dear thing,” Cara intoned without any real sympathy. “Such a pretty girl. So pitiful.”

“Someone will have to escort her to the States when she’s well enough to travel.”

Elizabeth was silent then, absorbing that piece of information. After a minute or two, she found herself taking in the picturesque village with its red-roofed buildings and the wide brick on the gateposts and some of the houses. A church stood proudly on a knoll at the edge of town; its steeple reaching toward the heavens as if to point the way to God.

They turned by the church and drove a couple more blocks to a golden-colored house with ivory trim, Baroque style, with a black iron fence around it. The two-story structure had an understated elegance: an orderly garden in the front, a small porch with rocking chairs, and drapes drawn to hide the rooms of the house from prying eyes. A wooden plaque carved into a rowan tree adorned the brick post next to the street.

“And here we are—Alsómező, the ambassador’s little vacation house.” Cara Bingley Hurst opened the gate and stepped through without waiting for the rest of the party.

Darby reached to open Liz’s car door, only to see she’d already done it herself. Glancing up and down the street, he took her elbow and steered her away from the car. “I’ll get your bags.”

He led her up the stairs to her room, setting the suitcase and medical bag inside the door and staring at her, hands in his pockets.

She indicated the door with a nod of her head. “Guess I should see to my patient.”

“Of course.” He bent over for the medical bag. “Follow me.” He knocked gently on the door across the hall and called out, “Miss Bodnar? I’ve brought your nurse.”

“I’m not a nurse, Darby,” she hissed.

“You are to her. She won’t know the difference anyway.”

Liz rolled her eyes. He opened the door and held it so she could enter. “Johanna, this is Erzsebet. She’ll be taking care of you while you’re here.”

The young woman lying on the bed forced a tired smile, followed by a cough. She tried to push herself into a sitting position.

Liz stepped forward, pulling a chair up to Johanna’s bedside. She offered her hand. “It’s good to meet you,” she said in Hungarian.

“Thank you for coming,” Johanna replied.

Liz assessed the young woman’s appearance. She was beautiful in a frail, china-doll way: light brown hair, sad blue-green eyes the color of the ocean, and skin so pale as to look almost translucent.

Darby quietly slipped from the room as Liz adjusted the covers around Johanna and reached into the medical bag he had left her. “Let’s see.” She took out a stethoscope. “That’s quite a cough you’ve got there.”

“Where did Mr. Kent find you? Your Hungarian is very good.” A tiny smile crept around her lips. “And his is not.”

Liz laughed.

Johanna’s smile grew. “So how did the two of you ever begin a conversation?”

“I work as a translator. I’m not actually a nurse, but I took some medical training back at home, so I guess I was the best choice he knew.”

“Where is your home?”

Liz knew better than to give her too much information, but telling her something vaguely correct would prevent having to remember a lie later on. “Washington, DC.”

“The US?” Johanna perked up. “Tell me about it. I will go there. At least I think I will go. When Papa and Mr. Kent find a doctor.”

Liz put the stethoscope to her back under her gown. “Deep breaths.”

Johanna took two before she coughed again. Liz reached for a glass of water and handed it to her. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “So, tell me all about Washington.”

Liz spent the next several minutes telling stories about life in the US capital—the food, the housing, and all the things to see there—while Johanna sat enthralled, a dreamy smile playing upon her lips.

“So at one end, we have the Washington monument—for our first president, George Washington—and at the other is the Lincoln memorial. That one is for Abraham Lincoln, who was president during our Civil War…” Liz noticed Johanna had slipped into an uneasy slumber, her breathing shallow but no longer labored. Quietly, so as not to disturb her, Liz placed her stethoscope back in the medical bag and slipped across the hall to her own room to clean up and get ready for dinner.

***

In the evening, Liz returned downstairs to find a miniature dinner party in progress. Cara had her arm linked with Darby Kent’s and was laughing and speaking with the other guests in rapid German. When Liz entered, Darby’s eyes immediately sought her out. Extricating himself from the ambassador’s wife, he joined her, picking up a glass of wine en route. He sidled up next to her, leaning close to her ear to murmur, “Some of Cara’s guests are suspected police informants. We’ll have to keep to the script. So suit up, Liz Hertford, you’re my paramour for the evening.”

“You might want to keep Cara Hurst at arm’s length then.”

“I only have eyes for you, Liz darling.” He gave her a shadow of a smile and leaned over to kiss her temple. “How’s Johanna?”

“Still sleeping. I gave her some of her meds, listened to her lungs. There’s definitely some rattle in there.”

“What do you think is wrong?”

“I don’t know—for the umpteenth time, I’m no doctor—but if I had to hazard a guess, either she’s never gotten rid of the first infection, or something’s keeping her from fighting it off. Autoimmune disorder, maybe? I know we could get her better care in Budapest.”

“My colleague is…” He nodded at the man passing by them on the way to the sideboard. “…reluctant to admit her to the state-run hospital,” he whispered in her ear. “He fears discovery and the possibility she will be used as leverage. Now, giggle for me.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s cute when you do that ‘I’m so offended’ bit, but you should probably act a little more receptive by now. So, giggle, my dear, and show our guests that you like me.”

Elizabeth pinched his arm as she complied and whispered back to him. “Will we be watched the whole time we’re here?”

“Yes and no. There may be a state police presence on and off for the next couple of days. Cara leaving the day after tomorrow should draw most of them off.”

“Speaking of…”

Cara called across the room. “Liz darling. Come meet our guests.” She turned back to the local couple she’d engaged in conversation. “She’s simply marvelous—you wouldn’t believe it. Public university, yet her Hungarian is almost flawless. My husband says he just can’t do without her, and here Darby has spirited her away from her duties for a frolic in the countryside.”

Liz narrowed her eyes so that only Darby could see her expression. He shrugged slightly. Resigned, she started across the room, but halted when she saw a handsome man, who was not the ambassador, enter and kiss Cara’s cheek. There was a quick embrace and Cara whispered something in his ear, which caused him to turn around and spear Liz with a curious look. His face broke into an open, friendly smile, beckoning her forward, and he held out his hand as she approached the group.

“You must be Liz.” He took her hand in both of his.

“I am.”

“It is wonderful to meet you!”

“I’m glad. And you are…?”

Cara made the introduction. “This is my brother, Charles Bingley. A bit of a shiftless sort, but we love him anyway.”

Charles let out a good-natured laugh. “Aw, Cara. I’m not really lazy. I’m writing the ‘Great American Novel.’”

“You’re writing the ‘Great American Novel’—in Hungary?” Liz asked with a smile.

“In Hungary, Austria, Timbuktu—wherever my feet and my brother-in-law’s free room and board take me. The world is my home.” He spread his arms wide and winked at Liz. “Think I’ll go clean up, okay, Cara?”

Cara had started another conversation and waved him away impatiently. After he left, Liz, realizing he might not know which room she herself was in and not wanting him to stumble on their secret guest, followed. She stopped when she heard hushed voices. Charles had apparently found Johanna Bodnar.

Liz panicked. No one was supposed to know Johanna was at Alsómező. She turned around sharply to ask Darby how they should handle it and bumped straight into him.

“Oof.” He put his hands at her elbows to steady her.

“Cara’s brother just found Johanna.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? She’s in hiding.”

“It’s fine.”

“Fine?” Liz’s voice ramped up.

“Well, it’s not ideal for a variety of reasons, but…”

Charles stuck his head out the door and beckoned them inside.

“Don’t worry, Liz. I know better than to talk out of school when my brother-in-law, the US ambassador, has a houseguest hidden upstairs. Johanna’s secret is safe with me. We’ve been having a nice little chat.” He reached over and patted her hand, a genuine smile on his face. She blushed and looked down at the coverlet.

Darby frowned.

“If there’s anything I can do to help—medicine I can bring, people I can contact—let me know.” Charles stood, and the two men exchanged a look. Liz felt a rising panic again. Would Darby betray his asset—and his asset’s daughter? And was Charles Bingley what he seemed—the ambassador’s carefree brother-in-law? Or was he something else entirely?