me?”
He looked up at her. “I wear a concealed earphone,” he said. “And you have a mic. We set up a video camera so that you can see and hear everything I’m doing while you’re some safe distance away—maybe even out in a surveillance truck. When someone comes up to shake my hand, you feed me his name and title and any other pertinent info I might need.” He flipped through the photos and handed them back to Veronica. “Pick out the top ten and I’ll look ’em over. The others I don’t need to know.”
Veronica fixed him with a look, suddenly feeling extremely awake. What did he mean, the others he didn’t need to know? “All fifty-seven of these people are diplomats Tedric knows quite well. You could run into any one of these people at any time during the course of this tour,” she said. “The original file had over three hundred faces and names.”
Joe shook his head. “I don’t have time to memorize faces and names,” he said. “With the high-tech equipment we have access to—”
“You don’t have time?” Veronica repeated, eyebrows lifted. “We’re all running out of time, Lieutenant. It’s my task to prepare you. Let me decide what there is and isn’t time for.”
Joe leaned forward. “Look, Ronnie, no offense, but I’m used to preparing for an operation at my own speed,” he said. “I appreciate everything you’re trying to do, but in all honesty, the way that Ted walks and talks is the least of my concerns. I’ve got this security thing to straighten out and—”
“That’s Kevin Laughton’s job,” she interrupted. “Not yours.”
“But it’s my ass that’s on the line,” he said flatly. “FInCOM’s going to change their security plans, or this operation is not going to happen.”
Veronica tapped her fingernails on the legal pad she was holding. “And if you don’t look and act enough like Prince Tedric,” she said tartly, “this operation is not going to happen, either.”
“Get me a tape,” Joe countered. “Get me a videotape and an audiotape of the guy, and I promise you, I swear to you, I will look and act and sound exactly like Ted.”
Veronica’s teeth were clenched tightly together in annoyance. “Details,” she said tightly. “How will you learn the details? Assuming, of course, that you are able to miraculously transform yourself into European royalty simply by viewing a videotape?”
“Write ’em down,” Joe said without hesitation. “I retain written information better, anyway.” The telephone rang and he paused briefly, listening while West answered it. “Lieutenant, it’s for you,” the FInCOM agent said.
Joe reached for the extension. “Yo. Catalanotto here.”
Yo. The man answered the phone with “Yo” and Veronica was supposed to believe he’d be able to pass himself off as the prince, with little or no instruction from her?
“Mac,” Joe said into the telephone. It was Admiral Forrest on the other end. “Great. Thanks for calling me back. What’s the word on getting Alpha Squad out here?”
How did a lieutenant get away with calling an admiral by his first name, anyway? Veronica had heard that Forrest had been a SEAL himself at one time in his long navy career. And from what little she knew about SEALs so far, she suspected they were unconventional in more than just their warfare tactics.
Joe’s jaw was tight and the muscles in the side of his face were working as he listened to Forrest speak. He swore sharply, not bothering to try to disguise his bad language. As Veronica watched, he rubbed his forehead—the first sign he’d given all day that he was weary.
“FInCOM has raised hell before,” he said. “That hasn’t stopped us in the past.” There was a pause and he added hotly, “Their security is lax, sir. Damn, you know that as well as I do.” Another pause. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do that.”
Joe glanced up and into Veronica’s watching eyes. She looked away, suddenly self-conscious about the fact that she was openly eavesdropping. As she shuffled through the file of photographs, she was aware of his gaze still on her.
“Before you go, sir,” he said into the telephone. “I need another favor. I need audio- and videotapes of Tedric sent to my room ASAP.”
Veronica looked up at that, and directly into Joe’s eyes. “Thanks, Admiral,” he said and hung up the phone. “He’ll have ’em sent right over,” he said to Veronica as he stood.
He looked as if he were about to leave, to go somewhere. But she didn’t even get a chance to question him.
“FInCOM’s having a briefing about the tour locations here in D.C.,” Joe said. “I need to be there.”
“But—”
“Why don’t you take a nap?” Joe said. He looked at his watch, and Veronica automatically glanced at hers. It was nearly five o’clock in the evening. “We’ll meet back here at twenty-one hundred hours.”
Veronica quickly counted on her fingers. Nine o’clock. “No,” she said, standing. “That’s too long. I can give you an hour break, but—”
“This briefing’s important,” Joe said. “It’ll be over at twenty-hundred, but I’ll need an extra hour.”
Veronica shook her head in exasperation. “Kevin Laughton doesn’t even want you there,” she said. “You’ll spend the entire time arguing—”
“Damn straight, I’m going to argue,” Joe said. “If FInCOM insists on assuming the tangos are going to mosey on up to the front door and ring the bell before they strike, then I’ve got to be there, arguing to keep the back door protected.”
Joe was already heading toward the door. West and Freeman scrambled to their feet, following him.
“Put those details you were talking about in writing,” Joe suggested. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
Veronica all but stamped her foot. “You’re supposed to be working with me,” she said. “You can’t just…leave…”
But he was gone.
Veronica threw her pad and pen onto the table in frustration. Time was running out.
Chapter Six
Veronica woke up from her nap at seven-thirty, still exhausted but too worried to sleep. How was Joe going to learn to act like Prince Tedric if he wouldn’t give her any time to properly teach him?
She’d made lists and more lists of details and information Joe had no way of knowing—things like, the prince was right-handed. That was normally not a problem, except she’d noticed that Joe was a lefty. She’d written down trivial information such as the fact that Tedric always twirled the signet ring he wore on his right hand when he was thinking.
Veronica got up from the table and started to pace, alternately worried, frustrated and angry with Joe. Who in blazes actually cared what Tedric did with his jewelry? Who, truly, would notice? And why was she making lists of details when basic things such as Tedric’s walk and ramrod-straight posture were being ignored?
