A Visitor From The Skies

It was Sir Harry on the secure line.

"Your assignment has changed. The Americans are worried about an aspect of the forthcoming G20 coffee klatsch in Toronto. You should know more very shortly. In fact, right...about...now."

I heard a thump, thump thump. Looking out my study window, I beheld a Black Hawk helicopter descending on the helipad next to the swimming pool. This action had several consequences.

"Irving!" I shouted.

"On it," he said.

I was also aware that Consuela and her cousin Maria were in the pool. Consuela was great with child, and because Toronto was enjoying a mini-heat wave, had taken refuge in the pool where she could move around with relative ease (on the ground, not so much.) I ran outside, cursing the American penchant for the dramatic and untoward.

The girls were terrified, and I could sense Maria's thoughts. She had been recently freed from the clutches of an Arizona gone slightly mad, and was now convinced that Arizona was now reaching out for her. This of course was nonsense -- Sheriff Joe Arpaio's reach had its limits -- but fear can be a very debilitating thing.

The copter had landed, and I made my way to it. The weather being what it was, I was wearing only shorts and a tank top, and was weaponless. I mean, where do you stash a Glock in an outfit like that? Not to worry -- I knew by this time that Irving was at the second floor window, an RPG locked and loaded. Just in case, although I was pretty certain that Al Qaeda or the Taliban couldn't commandeer a Black Hawk and fly it through a very secure air space, and then nicely land the thing. Al Qaeda doesn't land aircraft, they crash them into buildings.

A figure emerged, and jumped agilely to the ground. Immediately after, four soldiers also emerged, and formed a tight perimeter around the person. And now I knew who I was dealing with.

"Ah, Mr. Robert Gates, I believe," I said. "always interesting to receive a CIA visit. Now if you will excuse me a minute....." I went over to Consuela and Maria, and suggested some lemonade in the conservatory. "And Maria, everything's fine. This has nothing to do with you."

They scurried off, glad to be away from the hulking machine and its fearsome guards. I returned and stated, "Did you have to be this dramatic? A phone call..."

"We were checking out security, and this was one way to kill two birds with one stone. So to speak." He looked at me closely. "Hmm. Lady Simone Strunsky. Code name Ernestine. And they said you were a looker. De Rienville is a lucky man."

Bloody hell, but their files were up to date.

"I would also like to extend out appreciation to you," he continued.

"And why would that be?"

"For shutting up about the Bin Laden sanction. It nicely serves our purpose -- "

"I know what it serves," I interrupted somewhat testily. "Helps focus American minds on an understandable target. But just what is this little visit really about?"

"First, would you ask the Israeli to stop pointing that thing? I can see the reflection from here."

I waved at Irving, and he stood down. "Just being careful, Robert. May I call you Robert?"

"You can call me anything you like. Particularly if you agree to a small change in assignment. Oh, and not to worry. Sir Harry has been informed, and agreed."

I wondered what Sir Harry got in return. Probably the course of that Los Angeles class nuclear submarine he had lost track of. He suspected it was heading for North Korea, but wasn't sure. Well, not my concern. Yet.

I said, "What 'small change' are we talking about?"

"We want you to go to Niagara Falls."

"Ah," I said, thinking of Oscar Wilde. "The second greatest disappointment in the life of the American bride."

Gates' mouth twitched a bit at this, although his profession wasn't given much to humour.

"Apparently," he continued, "several of the delegates want to see the Falls, and have requested a trip on that misty boat, or whatever it's called."

"The Maid of the Mist."

"Whatever. But there is word --"

"There is always word."

"There is word," Gates continued determinedly, "from one of our operatives that security in that area has been penetrated. Now I doubt this very much, but this operative has rarely been wrong, although a bit of a loose cannon. She --"

"She?"

"She. In fact, it was this person that suggested that you be involved."

"Matilda bloody Hatt!" I exclaimed. "Might have known."

He seemed a bit shaken by this. Good. Humility is always to be treasured.

"So you want me to take a sniping position on the shore --"

"No. We want you on the boat. If you or our operative --"

"Tilly Hatt"

Yes, Miss Hatt," he said, getting right snappish now. Lord, how Americans love keeping everything all arcane and mysterious. "As I was going to say, if you see anything suspicious, you both are empowered to act." He looked me right in the eye, and I had no doubt what he meant. "And you must persevere, even to the extent of obstinacy."

"And He knows about this?

"He knows."

I must talk to Michelle more.

Good Lord, imagine being given such a carte blanche. After a few logistical details were discussed, he left, and I brooded for a bit on his terms. Perseverance. Obstinacy. Both problematical, as Lord Dundee knew, in that the difference between perseverance and obstinacy is that perseverance means a strong will and obstinacy means a strong won't.

Stay tuned.