Chasing Rainbows

Notes: This is from Bryan Sebring’s POV. Hondo was not released in DVD format until 2005. To my knowledge, John Wayne and Louis L’Amour never gave interviews about it. Well, not these particular interviews. Thanks to FD, who’s given me invaluable help regarding the DC area, and any gaffes are strictly my own. Thank you also to Tim Mead and Jim for their watchful eyes, and as always, to Gail.

Chasing Rainbows

Prologue

I’d never cared much for Edward Holmes. He’d often gotten by on the skill and knowledge of better men, and he knew whose ass to kiss. Now he was Director of Counter Intelligence, with his sights set on Director of the CIA.

We Sebrings on the other hand – Anthony, Jefferson, our sister Portia, and I – came from a long line of men and women who put our country’s welfare ahead of everything, often even family.

Perhaps that was why Holmes thought we brothers would fold our hands and do nothing, accept it as part of our destiny, when we learned of his campaign of petty annoyances against Portia’s son, our nephew, Quinton Mann.

Perhaps he thought that because we were all of us in our so-called golden years, the blood in our veins had become diluted, that age had dimmed our mental acuity as well as our eyesight.

Holmes had always been an arrogant, overbearing son of a bitch. He’d never struck me as being a stupid one.

Chapter 1

1958

The sound of the doorbell sliced through my head like an ice pick. I rolled out of bed, instantly alert. I wasn’t a field officer, but I had been trained to protect myself. A gun was in my left fist as I peered cautiously through the spy hole in my apartment door.

It was my oldest brother, Anthony.

I slid the gun into the back of my waistband, then rubbed a hand over my face and hair, unlocked the door, and let him in. “Jesus, Tony.” I scowled at him, the adrenaline leaching out of my system. “Is there a national crisis?”

“No.”

“You’ve been drinking.” I could smell alcohol on his breath.

“It’s not like you to state the obvious.”

“It’s not like you to pay me a visit at…” I glanced at my wristwatch. “… at 4:35 in the morning.” I needed something to take my mind off the fact that he was standing in front of me, his overcoat not doing a very good job of disguising the fact that he hadn’t changed out of his pajamas.

Tony didn’t question the fact that in spite of the hour and that I had on pajamas, I was wearing a watch. The only time I didn’t wear one was when I was in the bath.

He gazed around my tiny apartment. It had been a long time since he’d been here, and even then he’d made sure he hadn’t come alone. Jeff had accompanied him, along with the young Naval lieutenant he was seeing at the time.

“You weren’t going anywhere, where you?”

“Not for another couple of hours. At least one of which I could have spent sleeping.”

“Sorry.” He ran restless fingers through his hair. “I’ve done it, Bry.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve introduced Portia to Nigel Mann.”

It had been Father’s plan to involve our baby sister in the family business. Portia, lovely, delicate Portia, was aware of that and seemed to have no objection.

She was unaware, however, that our father planned to match her with an intelligence officer. Although she’d come home from her come-out in London with a reputation as an ice princess, people were beginning to question the fact that she was almost twenty-three and still unmarried.

Father wanted her married, but to someone who wouldn’t distract her from her job of breaking Russian codes for Project Venona. He chose Nigel Mann, who worked for the CIA.

I was at Shadow Brook, the family farm in Maryland, that weekend, and the four of us, Father, Tony, Portia, and I planned to go riding. Portia’s horse, however, threw a shoe, and she led the gelding back to the stable.

While we were waiting for her to return, I mentioned Mann to Father.

I’d read the reports of his missions while he’d been serving in Korea. I’d also overheard a couple of the secretaries in my department who’d shown some interest in his austere good looks complaining about him – not that he crossed the line with them, but rather that he showed no inclination to do so.

“Cold, you say?” A thin smile curved Father’s lips.

“The man has ice water in his veins, Father.”

“Does he appear to prefer men?” There was no distaste in his voice as might have been expected considering the current administration. Jefferson had shown a predilection toward his own sex since he’d reached puberty, had never made any effort to hide it around the family, although in public he was the epitome of discretion and was often seen with one beauty after another on his arm. Mother and Father had long accepted the fact that they would get no grandchildren from their second son.

“I’d say he has no preference.”

“Asexual, then?” Father sounded even more pleased.

“If the man uses his prick for anything other than to piss, I’d be very surprised.”

“Then he should be perfect for Portia. Neither of them will be sidetracked by sex.” Something startled his horse, causing him to break into a bone-jarring trot, and Father casually brought the brute under control. “I want him vetted to the NSA. Anthony, you’ll see to it that they come into contact.”

“Father, do you really think this is a good idea?” Tony’s eyes were hooded.

I was startled to hear my older brother object. He was the one who usually backed Father to the hilt.

But then, Portia was his favorite sibling. Not that I minded, even though before her birth, that position had been mine. As the only girl in the last three generations of Sebrings, Portia was adored by all of us.

For the first time, I wondered about my little sister’s love life. The very thought of her sharing a bed with a man felt wrong, and I pushed it out of my mind and turned my attention back to what my father and brother were saying.

“Are you questioning my judgment, Anthony?”

“No, of course not, sir. I just don’t want to see Portia hurt.”

“You don’t give your sister credit. Beneath her fair exterior beats the heart of a true Sebring. She’ll put the welfare of her country above everything.”

Tony opened his mouth to say something, then paused and worried his lip. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the small indentations.

My horse snorted and tossed her head, objecting to the unintentional tightening of the reins. I eased my grip and patted her neck apologetically. “Sorry, Baby.”

“Very well, sir,” Tony conceded, and before Portia rejoined us with another mount, we came up with the idea of using Project Venona to get Mann into the NSA and into our sister’s vicinity.

A problem cropped up, however. The two involved parties didn’t cooperate. Mann had been with the NSA for at least three weeks, and he seemed as completely unaware of Portia as she seemed of him. Although they worked in the same building, and even on the same floor, they were like ships that passed in the night. Father was growing impatient.

But now Tony had finally effected the meeting. “Sidorov was at it again, digging through Tolstoy for his damned codes, and Portia found something that helped crack it.”

“It’s what she does best.”

“Yes. Mann was impressed. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.”

“And Portia? What did she think of Mr. Freeze?”

“She seemed… interested. I urged her to go to dinner with him.”

“That’s what Father wanted, isn’t it?”

“But Father is at the embassy in Vienna and I’m here to deal with it.”

“With what? The fact that our sister had dinner with Nigel Mann? It sounds harmless enough.”

“Do you think so?” He scowled at me. “They left Arlington Hall about nine thirty.”

“A late dinner.” I shrugged.

His scowl deepened. “It was after three a.m. when she got home. I was ready to start calling hospitals.”

“Oh, big brother.” I shook my head, biting back a smile. “How did Portia react to that?”

“She let me know she could take care of herself.”

“Well, she can. We’ve all seen to that.”

“You’re right.” He sighed. “Anyway, she’s settled in for what’s left of the night.”

“And you’re here. Why?”

“I had to talk to someone.”

“And you chose me. I’m flattered, Tony.” Would he still have come if Jefferson had been in town? Somehow, I doubted it. I wasn’t the one he sought out, hadn’t been the one he sought out, in more years than I cared to think of. Oh, he didn’t make a big thing of it, and none of the family seemed to have noticed, but I was the one who knew. “I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

“Bryan, you know what a stickler our sister is when it comes to her appearance. She was completely disheveled. Her blouse was tucked in any which way, it was buttoned wrong, what buttons were buttoned, her hair was down, most of the pins holding it gone… She looked as if she’d been mauled!”

I felt my expression go flat and forgot my own troubles. “I’ll pull him out of the Project.”

“You can’t. Father would be unhappy.”

“Do you think I care about Father’s feelings?”

“Yes. As much as Jeff and I do.”

“But not to the point where I’ll put anything above Portia’s happiness.”

A look of surprise flashed across his face. “When did you become your own man, little brother?”

“I’ve always been my own man, Anthony.”

The look was gone. “It doesn’t matter. She would be unhappy.”

“What?”

“We planned this too well. Apparently, she doesn’t think Mann’s a cold fish.” His laugh was filled with misery, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes, another sign he’d been drinking. “I’ve never seen her so taken with anyone.”

“Tony?” With gentle fingers I raised his chin. It had been a very long time since I’d touched him. “Don’t you think it’s too early for her to have fallen in love with him?”

“She’s as much a Sebring as any of us.”

I understood what he meant. Sebrings found their one true love, married, and were happy for the rest of their lives, so the story went. Or, there were those like me, who would never have their love returned and so would have the choice of living alone or marrying for convenience. I hoped Portia would be one of the former.

I wondered which Tony was. I dreaded the day when he would announce his engagement. He had a year or so before, and I had felt as if my heart was being ripped from my chest. But I’d offered the couple my best wishes.

She called it off within a matter of months, and I’d written my brother a brief, stilted note expressing my sympathy, while inside I had breathed a sigh of relief. That made me ashamed. He was my brother, and I should want his happiness above everything else.

Tony’s eyes looked tired. “No matter how this turns out, Portia will never forgive me.”

“Oh, big brother.” I put my arms around him and rocked him. I struggled to keep from turning my head and running my lips across his cheek. I would allow myself a moment to offer him this comfort, then release him. “She will forgive you.”

His hands gripped my waist, and for a second I thought he would pull me into a deeper embrace, but then I realized it was just to keep me at a distance, not that I would have attempted closer contact.

I kept my lower body away from his, drew in a silent breath, inhaling the remnants of the aftershave he always wore, and let him go.

“Don’t you know how much she loves you? It will all work out.”

“If it doesn’t…”

“It will. Worry wart.”

“Bry…”

“Take your coat off.”

He obeyed my order without question, a sure sign of his emotional distress, and draped it over a chair. “I shouldn’t have disturbed you...”

“I don’t mind.”

“… but I wanted to talk to you.”

“All right. Come into the kitchen, Tony. I’ll make us some tea.”

“Portia made me a cup of tea too. Mother’s cure-all.” He followed me into my tiny galley kitchen.

“Well, both sides of the family have their roots in England.”

“That’s true.” He touched the small of my back. I stared at him over my shoulder, barely able to control my shiver of surprise. “Were you expecting trouble?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”

He nodded toward my back. “You’re armed.”

I made myself smile at him. “When I’m awakened out of a sound sleep at this time of night, I always like to be prepared.”

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

“No matter.”

He leaned against the counter and watched as I set the kettle to boil. “Did you know that Mother was supposed to marry one of her English cousins?”

“Really?” I wasn’t surprised at the abrupt change of topic – my older brother could be like that – but that couldn’t be what he wanted to talk to me about.

He nodded. “He was killed on November 11, 1918.”

“The day of the Armistice? What a waste.”

“I wonder which is worse – being killed on the day peace is declared, or having the bombing of Pearl Harbor fall on your birthday?”

“No one has an excuse to forget my birthday.” I shrugged, remembering my eleventh birthday. Shortly afterward, Tony had come home from Harvard and informed Father that he had enlisted in the Navy. Father hadn’t been pleased, but reconciled himself when Tony’s qualifications – he was in his senior year at Harvard, even though he was two years younger than everyone else in his class – got him into officers’ training school. “I wonder how we would have turned out if she and her cousin had married.”

“More daughters for her? Perhaps. Most of the cousins on that side are female.”

“So a year and a half later she married father?”

“Grandfather Sebring arranged the marriage.”

“Ah.” That explained some things, Mother’s restrained demeanor around our father, for one. “That was very 18^th century, wasn’t it?”

“The Blackburns were an influential family before the Crash.”

“I knew that.”

“There was something else.” His expression became brooding. “Apparently Father had been… on the verge of marrying someone else. She was a Ziegfeld Girl.”

“What?” My mind boggled and my eyes crossed. Our father, one of the most reserved men we knew?

“Grandfather bought her off.”

“How did you hear about this?” Was that why our father had always been so cool to his own father? “Does Father know you know?”

“I was with Grandfather as he lay dying, and he rambled about a good many things. And no, Father has no idea. This wasn’t something I was about to bring up to him.”

“What about Jeff?”

“He doesn’t know.”

“Then why are you telling me this?”

“You said it yourself.” His grin was crooked. “I’ve been drinking, little brother.”

This was the second time he’d called me ‘little brother.’ It had been a long time – almost ten years – since he’d called me that.

I forced myself to continue the mundane tasks of getting the tea ready – spooned tea into the tea pot, took down cups and saucers, filled the creamer with cream. No sugar, though. Like me, he sweetened it with honey.

He glanced around the kitchen. “You need a bigger place, Bryan.”

“Just for me? No, it doesn’t pay.”

“When you settle down…”

When I settle down. So this was what he’d been leading up to.

“Ah, when I settle down, Tony,” I said, humoring him, “I’ll buy a big house in the country and raise the next generation of Sebrings…” For a second I thought there was a trace of defeat in his eyes, but I must have been wrong.

“… and Irish Wolfhounds and Tennessee Walking Horses?”

“Yes.” Before I’d realized what the family business was, that had been my sole ambition, and my brothers had often teased me about it.

“And the girl you’ll marry will be your one true love.”

No, she wouldn’t, but he didn’t want to hear this now, no more than he’d wanted to hear it when he’d come back from the Pacific a few years after the War, looking so dashing and handsome in his dress whites, and I’d told him… 

I cut off that train of thought and forced a smile. “And you, big brother? When will you be getting married?”

“I am married, little brother. To my job.” His smile was as tight as Father’s. “Didn’t you realize that?”

The kettle began to whistle, saving me from having to answer.

**

Portia baffled Tony as well as Father. She married Nigel Mann, not once, but twice, and they produced a strong, healthy little boy.

Jefferson, much like a sailor with a sweetheart in every port, had a lover in every major city of the world, and he seemed quite happy with that state of … affairs.

Tony was seen with any number of women on his arm, each one more beautiful than the last, but none lasted long.

Eventually, I did marry, but for the wrong reasons – to take the pressure off my older brothers, neither of whom seemed likely to marry and give my father the grandson who would carry on the Sebring name, to prove to myself that just because I was a Sebring, that didn’t mean I’d only have one chance at love.

1965

February in Manhattan. It was colder than DC.

Hazelton, Director of – well, that really wasn’t important. Steve asked if I’d do him a favor. He needed an officer whose face was unknown in the field. Intelligence from a contact at the UN needed to be picked up and delivered to another officer.

Coming from him, the request was more like an order to volunteer. Not that I minded. As I’d told Hazelton, “Anything for our Country.”

The truth of the matter was that for the past month or so I’d been feeling restless and somewhat envious of my middle brother, who got to travel the world and do things.

So I flew into Kennedy, and my ride drove me into Manhattan. I checked into the Bonheur, a small hotel in the Murray Hill District, then caught a cab to the UN.

The retrieval went smoothly, and I passed on the information, also without a hitch, at a drop in Central Park.

Now, my time was my own. Hazelton had told me that as a bonus, once the job was completed, I could stay in Manhattan or vacation where I chose. Still restless, I decided to return to my hotel and see about catching a flight to… somewhere.

I jogged across 5^th Avenue to the Plaza Hotel, where there was a cab stand, and raised my hand to hail a cab. One pulled up to the curb and let out a young woman. She looked familiar to me.

“Johanna?” Johanna Harrington was the young widow of a West Point grad who had been an acquaintance of mine. He gave her two children in quick succession and then went off to Vietnam where he was killed. “How are you?” I could see she couldn’t quite place me. “I’m Bryan Sebring. I was in your wedding party.”

“Oh, yes, Bill’s friend. I’m doing all right.”

“And your children?”

“They’re… all right too. They’re too young to remember Bill.”

“I’m sure they miss having a father.”

“Yes.” She looked away from me.

Was she going to cry? It had been a couple of years since Bill’s death but…  I cleared my throat. “I’m surprised to see you in Manhattan. I believe I heard you were living with your parents?”

“In Baltimore. Yes. It was so difficult, and then when Daddy died…” Her absurdly long lashes dipped to shield her eyes, and her lips quivered into what I took to be an attempt at a brave smile in the face of adversity. “Mother is watching the children for me. She insisted I needed some time away. I’m staying here at the Plaza, and shopping.” She held up the shopping bags in her hands, all from exclusive department stores.

“You’ve done a good job of it.” I took in her china blue eyes and hair like black silk, which feathered around her piquant face, and I smiled at her.

“Ya in or ya out, Mac?”

“Johanna, if you’re not in any rush, if you don’t have to be anywhere, would you care to have a drink with me?”

“Why… Yes, thank you. I’d like that.” Her lashes fanned down over her cheeks, and then lifted. “I’ll just need to bring these up to my room and freshen up.” She finally smiled, and the dimple in the corner of her mouth took my breath away.

I paid the cab driver and sent him on his way.

“Let me help you.”

“Thank you.”

I took the bags from her and followed her into the hotel. As the elevator carried us up to her floor, she kept sending little looks my way, and I found my interest stirring.

We exited on 10, and she took her key from her purse and handed it to me. I shifted the bags to my right hand, unlocked the door and opened it, and allowed her to enter before me. Then I followed her in.

Her hotel room was simply furnished with a double bed, a chest of drawers, a chair by the window, and a night table. A copy of Van Gogh’s Garden of Daubigny hung opposite the bed.

I placed the shopping bags on the bed.

Johanna was fiddling with the collar of her mink coat, and I wondered at how nervous she suddenly seemed. “I’ll only be a moment.”

“There’s no rush, Johanna.” My restlessness seemed to have vanished. I nodded toward the bags. “The clothes will get wrinkled. I’ll call housekeeping and have someone come up to take care of them for you.”

“Oh! That’s so kind of you, Bryan!”

“Not at all.”

She hesitated for a second, then removed her mink and went into the bathroom.

**

Drinks led to dinner, to another date, to the theatre, to dancing.

The contrast between her dark beauty and my blond looks was striking, bringing envious glances our way, but what drew me most was that dimple. It was a provocative temptation, a promise of steamy kisses that would lead to passion-filled nights. I was pleased that my body reacted to her.

The fact that my body reacted to her gave me hope that perhaps I was more a Blackburn than a Sebring.

I didn’t bring her to my room at the Bonheur, however. I refrained from doing more than kiss her, and even those kisses were restrained. I kept my tongue behind my teeth. I’d been raised a gentleman.

Before I knew it, my time in the City was drawing to a close.

“I’d like to continue seeing you once you go home.” I held her hand, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin, and gazed into her eyes.

Her cheeks pinked. “I’d like that, Bryan,” she said in a breathy whisper. She was leaving the next day also.

I squeezed her hand, called the airline and changed my flight to Washington to one that would land in Baltimore instead, and flew back with her.

So began a whirlwind courtship that had me proposing after six weeks, and when she said yes, I called my parents to let them know.

Father was pleased, and I could almost see him rubbing his hands together.

“Splendid work, Bryan. She’s already had two children. There should be no problem with her giving you sons.”

“No, sir.”

“You’ll bring her to Shadow Brook, of course.”

“Of course. May I speak to Mother?”

He put her on the phone. “I understand congratulations are in order.”

“Yes.”

“Are you very sure, Bryan?”

“Of course I’m sure, Mother. Why would you think I wouldn’t be?”

“I just want you to be happy. Being a Sebring…” She didn’t finish her sentence. “Will this weekend be too short a notice for her to come here?”

“It shouldn’t be. I know she’s looking forward to meeting you and Father.”

“As are we her. Will she bring her children?”

“I’ll have to ask her. She doesn’t like to take them out of Baltimore. She’s mentioned that they get carsick…” Which was why I hadn’t been able to take them on any day trips. “Since this is so important, I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out. I’ll get back to you as soon as I talk to her.”

We spoke a bit longer – which room Mother would give Johanna, what menu she’d plan, that she thought it would be a good idea for Portia and Nigel to be there also, along with their baby, Quinton – and when I hung up, I immediately called my fiancée.

“Oh, how sweet!” she exclaimed when I told her of my parents’ reaction to the news that we were going to be married, leaving out Father’s anticipation of her adding to the Sebring line.

“Libby and Billy will love Shadow Brook and the manor – it’s a wonderful place for children.”

“But …”

“My brothers and sister and I loved growing up there.”

“Bryan, listen, please. I’m afraid Libby and Billy won’t be able to come. They’ll be staying with Bill’s parents this weekend.”

“You didn’t tell me.” The Harringtons also lived in Baltimore.

“Didn’t I? I was sure I did.”

There was a tight note in her voice, and I decided not to push it. “Well, perhaps another time.”

“Yes. Perhaps, although you know how poorly they travel. Now tell me more about your home.”

I described the house and the surrounding lands with paddocks, apple orchards, and pond. “Once we’re married, Jo, I’ll buy a house just like that for us. I have my eye on a beauty that’s in Virginia.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’d like to live in Virginia. It’s so far from Mother.”

“Then wherever you like, Jo.” I didn’t like the desperation I heard in my voice.

“But the children…”

“They’ll love a big house in the country, you’ll see.”

“If you think so.” She didn’t sound too enthusiastic, but I put it down to pre-wedding jitters.

We didn’t leave Baltimore until midmorning on Saturday, in spite of my intention to make an early start.

Libby and Billy hadn’t left for their other grandparents’ home when I arrived to pick up Johanna. They fussed and whined as she tried to get them dressed.

“Jo, I did tell you I’d pick you up at 9, didn’t I?” The drive to the manor was almost three hours if I pushed it, and I hadn’t wanted to push it. I wanted us to have a leisurely drive.

“Yes. It’s just…” She was distracted. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

“Can I help?” I started to reach for the pair of tiny trousers that were Billy’s, and he howled and ducked behind his mother.

“NO!” She snatched them out of my hand. “That is, no. Thank you. I can handle them. Would you mind waiting in the parlor? Please?”

“Yes, do come, Bryan.” Mrs. Collier, Johanna’s mother, took my arm and urged me out of the room. “Libby and Billy are just a trifle high strung. Let me get you a cup of coffee, and then I’ll go pack for Johanna myself.”

“She’s not even packed?”

“It will only take me a moment. I’ll just get your coffee…”

“No, thank you! Please don’t go to the trouble.” I really didn’t want a cup of coffee.

“Oh. Well, if you’re sure…?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll just see about…” She was out of the room before she finished the sentence.

I walked to the window that opened to a view of the house next door, but it wasn’t a very edifying view.

Looking at my watch wouldn’t make the time pass faster. I turned on the television, but all that was on were cartoons. A local station was playing vintage Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, and I stood there watching as Daffy shrieked at Elmer Fudd, “Shoot ’im now! Shoot ’im now!” I shut it off.

Finally they all came downstairs. Mrs. Collier was carrying three suitcases, and Johanna had a child on each side of her. The children seemed to have calmed down, and I blew out a breath of relief.

“Shall we go, Jo?”

“Mommy, you’re not going away, are you?”

“Yes, Mommy is. And you’re going to see Grandma and Granddad, and you’re going to have such a lovely time!” Her joviality seemed forced. “All your favorite things are packed in your little suitcases.”

And the calm was shattered. “No, Mommy! Don’t go! Don’t go!” They cried and clung to her.

“Oh, my babies!” She knelt down and opened her arms to gather them into her embrace.

“Jo, if you want, we can take them with us.” I could see this becoming the Drive from Hell, stopping every few miles so they wouldn’t get carsick. “I’m sure Bill’s parents would understand…”

“Don’t want to go! Want Mommy to stay!” Libby kicked me in the shins, and her brother beat on my calf with his chubby toddler fists.

They were children, and I was ashamed of myself for the irritation I felt. But my brothers and sister and I would never have behaved in that manner. Mother would have deemed it in poor taste if she had ever let us become so out of hand.

“Precious, no, mustn’t kick Uncle Bryan.” Johanna glanced at me. “I don’t understand why Bill’s parents haven’t arrived yet. I can’t bear to leave them… Maybe I’d better not go, Bryan. We can do this next week, can’t we? Surely one week wouldn’t matter too terribly much!”

“Johanna, my mother has gone to a great deal of trouble for this weekend.”

“I can’t leave them like this.” Her eyes were swimming with tears but her mouth had a stubborn turn, and she started to remove her coat. She was hampered by the fact that her children held on like leeches. “I’m sorry. I just can’t. You’ll have to tell your mother…”

“Just go, Johanna,” her mother ordered, a trace of impatience in her voice. She took each of her grandchildren by the wrist and yanked them away, and they began to wail even louder. I could feel a headache starting. “They’ll be fine once you’re out of here.”

“I’ll see their tearful little faces the whole way to Garrett County, Mother!”

“Johanna! Bryan is going to wonder who is more the child! Now please go!”

“But…”

“Come on, Jo.” I raised her to her feet and settled her coat on her shoulders. Then I picked up her suitcase, took her arm, and urged her out the door, the sounds of her children’s screams following us to the curb.

“My babies!” she murmured in a broken whisper.

“Will you react this way when it’s time to go on our honeymoon?”

She flinched as if I’d struck her. “No, of course not. But I can’t bear to see them so upset. It’s been just the three of us for so long, and they haven’t had to share me.”

“Listen! Please, Jo, listen. They’ve already stopped crying.”

“Oh! They have.”

“I want you to meet my parents, and I know Father and Mother are anxious to meet you. He’s rearranged his schedule, and she’s planned a special dinner for you.”

“You’re right.” She took a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. We can go now.”

But she kept looking back at the house until I turned a corner and it was no longer in view, and I wondered what she would do when we had children of our own. Would she neglect them for her older children?

When I ushered Johanna into the house in which I’d grown up, Mother was just coming down the hallway.

“I’m sorry we’ve kept you waiting, Mother. Traffic,” I offered as an excuse.

She studied me intently for a moment but said nothing. She turned to Johanna and smiled.

“Welcome to the family, my dear. Anthony had to take a phone call, but he’ll be with us shortly. I’m so sorry you were unable to bring the children.”

“I told Bryan their father’s parents wanted to take them this weekend.” Was there a bite in her tone?

“Of course. They’d want to see their son’s children. They’d have every right to expect to see them,” Mother said smoothly. “It’s been a long while since there were children here, and we’re so pleased that that’s changing. Bryan’s sister had a baby in February, as I’m sure he’s told you.”

“Yes. How nice for you. I mean a new baby is such a wonderful thing.”

Mother’s mouth tightened, and she glanced at me.

Father joined us just then, and while he greeted my fiancée warmly, I could see something was on his mind. I raised an eyebrow, and he nodded.

Mother saw. “Johanna, let’s leave the men to their business, shall we?”

“Oh, but…”

“I’m sure you’d like to unpack and freshen up, my dear. I’ll take you up to your room.”

“Thank you. I would like that. It was a long drive. Don’t be too long, Bryan. You promised to take me riding.” She hadn’t seemed too enthused about that when I’d mentioned picking out a horse for her.

“We’ll have to do that tomorrow, Jo.” I was already following my father down the hall to his study.

I heard Mother say, “Afterward I’ll show you the house and my rose garden. The weather is lovely today.” She knew we would probably be a while.

**

Johanna and I returned from our honeymoon in Hawaii to take up residence in the house in Baltimore that had been in her mother’s family since before the Civil War. Mrs. Collier had graciously offered it to us, and Johanna had thought it would be a good idea that we accept.

“My mother is here, Bryan, and Bill’s family also, and the children’s friends. It will make the transition so much easier for them.”

“Very well, Jo.” I didn’t tell her I would have an hour’s commute, and most likely longer during rush hour. We’d had a good time on Oahu, reminiscent of the week we’d spent in Manhattan, and I wanted to keep that feeling.

While having breakfast in what she’d designated the breakfast room, a small area that had originally been part of the servants’ quarters, she chatted on about the shopping she needed to do before the dinner party she was having that evening.

“Don’t forget, Bryan. Be home on time? I’ll put the children to bed early.”

“Of course, Jo.”

And I fully intended to, but then one of my officers managed to radio some intelligence to his contact, and we needed to get him out of harm’s way…

We were too late. I had to visit his family to tell them.

It was past midnight by the time I got home. Our guests were long gone, but the children were still up.

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were going to put them to bed early. They’re too young to be up this late.”

“Mommy!” Libby whined. Billy stuck his thumb in his mouth and glared at me over it.

Johanna’s lips tightened. She turned on her heel and led them away.

I crossed to the liquor cabinet, poured myself a generous glass of Glenlivet, and went into the kitchen to see if my wife had set aside a plate for me.

She hadn’t, but I found enough leftovers in the refrigerator to make myself a sandwich. As I ate I finished the Glenlivet, then poured myself another one and waited for Johanna to join me downstairs, but after an hour I grew tired of waiting. I made sure the house was locked and climbed the stairs to our bedroom.

Johanna was already in bed, reading Arthur Hailey’s Hotel St. Gregory.

“You could have told me you weren’t coming back down.” I hung up my suit jacket, stepped out of my shoes, and stripped off my shirt and trousers.

She marked her page with a bookmark and said, “It was very rude of you not to be here, Bryan. I invited these people for you.”

“I’m sorry, Jo.” I took my pajamas into the bathroom to finish changing.

“I hope you’re not going to make a habit of it,” she called. She didn’t ask why I was late.

“This is my job, Johanna.”

“But Bryan, how will you advance your career if you’re not present at the dinner parties I hostess for you?”

“Johanna…” I came back into the bedroom. Didn’t she realize it was essential for me to keep a low profile? I opened my mouth to tell her, but she continued.

“Bill always made it a point of being home. He knew how important it was to have the right people to dinner. If he hadn’t been killed, he would have been a colonel by now, and on his way to becoming a general!”

“I don’t want to quarrel with you, Johanna.”

“You’re always doing this, Bryan.”

“Excuse me?”

“You left me with your mother to go talk to your father. You left me to entertain your guests…”

My guests? “Johanna...” I blew out a breath. “Look. It’s been a bad day. I just want to go to sleep.”

She gave a huff and picked up her book. “All right.”

Mother or Portia would have wanted to know what had gone wrong.

I turned out the lamp on my side of the bed, but she left her lamp on.

“I’ll just continue to read for a bit, if you don’t mind.” She removed the bookmark from the page.

“Of course not, my dear.” I turned on my side and closed my eyes, but it took me a while to fall asleep. I wondered if I’d moved too fast in getting married.

Things were cool between us for more than a week, until the next dinner party. I made an effort to be there, and as a reward, that dimple came out once more. It took a short while longer before my body reacted to it once again.

1975

The dream of that big house in the country and raising dogs and horses… and children… became nothing more than a lost dream.

Johanna had no trouble getting pregnant. It was staying pregnant that was the problem. One pregnancy after another ended in miscarriage.

After almost ten years and four successive miscarriages and a premature birth, Johanna had had enough. She gazed at me across the breakfast table.

“Dr. Lumley has advised against trying for any more children, Bryan,” she informed me as she stirred skim milk into her coffee.

I touched my napkin to my lips. “If he thinks that would be best.” It didn’t matter. The last pregnancy had been almost to term, and the thought of going through the initial anticipation, only to be met with another loss was too painful. “Do you want to deal with birth control, or would you rather I did?”

“Actually, I’d… I’d rather you moved into the small bedroom off the master suite.”

“You don’t want me in our bed?”

“For what purpose, Bryan? We haven’t made love in ages.”

I stared at her blankly. It hadn’t even occurred to me that in the months since I’d held our tiny son as he breathed his last – Portia had been with me; Johanna was still recovering from the emergency C-section. ‘You say there’s nothing that can be done. Then let this child know the comfort of his father’s arms,’ and my sister had stared down the obstetrician until he’d shrugged as if it was immaterial to him and permitted it – I had never once reached for my wife, not even for simple comfort.

“Do you want a divorce?”

“No. No one in my family has ever divorced, and besides, it will be too hard on the children.”

“Would they even notice?”

She frowned at me.

Her children… I’d never had the opportunity to make them mine. They were either with her mother or with her deceased husband’s family, and when they were home, those few times they weren’t in bed when I returned home myself, their response to any conversational gambits was sullen and monosyllabic, and they wouldn’t meet my eye. Johanna had insisted on home-schooling for them. I’d tried to persuade her that sending them to local schools might be a better idea, but her mouth had become pinched. ‘Do not ever interfere with my children!’

“Tell me something, Johanna,” I said now. “Why do you do everything in your power to prevent me from growing close to Libby and Billy?” They were thirteen and twelve now.

“I don’t…”

“You do. You have from the very beginning.”

“I’m simply protecting my children! They were devastated when their real father died!”

“You told me they didn’t remember Bill.”

“When? I never…”

“The very first day we met. ‘They’re too young to remember,’ you said.”

She turned pale. “How can you remember that?”

“I have a very good memory. That’s part of my job.”

“Your job…” She gave a little gasp, but I didn’t pay any attention to it.

“You didn’t even give me the chance to become a father to them.”

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You didn’t want a wife, you wanted a brood mare with a ready-made family.” Her voice grew shrill. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear? You have one brother who’s a fa- a homosexual, and another who’s a eunuch.”

I slammed my hand down on the table, the explosion of sound shocking her. “You will not refer to my brothers like that.”

Pale and shaking, she drew a breath. I had only lost my temper with her once before, when she’d said some denigrating things about my sister because Portia had worked after she’d married, and even after she’d had Quinn.

‘You know nothing about my sister or the work she’s done,’ I’d snapped at Johanna, ‘so keep your mouth shut.’

She’d hastily retracted her words then, and she did so again now. “I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” Her lips folded into a tight line. “I think that it would be better for the both of us if you did sleep in another bedroom.”

“Very well. I’ll stay out of your way as much as possible, then.” I shoved my chair away from the table. “Tell Martha I won’t be home for dinner, please.”

“Aren’t you at least going to object?”

“Why? Would it make any difference?”

“No, I suppose not.” She appeared defeated. “Will you find someone else, Bryan?”

“I never cheated on you, Johanna.”

“Perhaps not. Perhaps it would have been better if you had. I could have fought a flesh and blood rival.”

“There was never a rival, Jo.”

“Do you truly believe that?  The CIA, Bryan. You love it above everything.” She was wrong, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I knew you didn’t love me, but…”

“If that’s what you thought, then why did you agree to marry me, Johanna?”

She flushed. “You were quite attractive, Bryan. You still are. And I wanted to be married again. I missed being married. And my children needed a father. It wasn’t as if…” Her voice hitched. “… as if there was anyone I loved. Maybe if one of our little boys had survived…”

She had been far enough along in each pregnancy that Dr. Lumley had been able to tell us the sex of each child.

“That first day, when I brought you up to my hotel room…” She toyed with her napkin, avoiding my eyes. “I wanted to see how you would react. You were the perfect gentleman. You didn’t lunge or paw at me. So many men thought widows were fair game.” Her flush deepened. “How was I to know you didn’t touch me because you just didn’t care?”

I was about to protest that I had cared, when I realized what she’d said. “That was a test? You were testing me?”

Her eyes rose to mine, and then she looked away. “All I ask is that if you do choose to take a mistress, please be discreet. If not for my sake, then for my… the children’s.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, Jo.”

“Thank you for that at least, Bryan.” 

“My dear…”

“Please don’t call me that. It’s so cold, so impersonal…”

“It’s how my father addresses my mother.”

“Precisely.”

Was that how those outside the family saw it – as my parents being cold? Neither of them believed in overt displays of affection. Even Portia and her husband were the epitome of discretion when others were present, although I’d happened to walk in on them one time when they thought they were alone. I’d quickly backed out, and they never knew I’d observed them, but the way he held her and the way she molded herself against him gave me a startling insight into their relationship. Unlike mine, theirs was a marriage of love.

I looked into my wife’s china blue eyes. “I’m sorry, Johanna.”

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t want it to come to this.” She didn’t realize I was apologizing for being unable to love her. She rose and came to stand before me. “If only…”

“I’d better leave. I’ll be late for work.”

“Of course. Are you sure you don’t want to come home for dinner?”

“Hazelton has called a meeting of all the department heads.” He’d become DCI, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“Of course. The Director of the CIA snaps his fingers, and you go running.” She walked to the door with me and handed me my briefcase. “I’ll make up the bed in the other room and move your clothes there.”

“Thank you. I… It was never my intention to make you unhappy, Jo.”

“I know. I guess I…” She sighed. “We are who we are. If you ever meet someone…”

I already had, but I’d known for years that it was hopeless. “The same goes for you, Johanna.”

She raised her hand, and I wouldn’t allow myself to flinch, but she simply rested her palm against my cheek, her smile lopsided. “Have a good day, Bryan.”

I opened the door and left.

1978

Johanna and I kept a united front in public – even the family was unaware of our living arrangements – but whatever affection we’d had for each other was gone; we were strangers to each other, if we had ever been anything else.

**

Jefferson, home on leave for Nigel Mann’s funeral, was accompanied by an Englishman, Ludovic Rivenhall. They wore matching rings on the middle fingers of their left hands.

**

Tony remained a staunch bachelor.

Chapter 2

1980

During summer vacations, Portia would allow her son to stay with each of us uncles for a week or so. Tony would take him to points of interest in DC, including NSA headquarters. Jeff would take him on jaunts around the world – Quinn had had his passport since he was five years old and his parents had taken him to West Africa to meet Portia’s godmother, Viscountess Creighton, and her husband. And when it was my turn, I would take him to Langley, showing him where his father had worked.

I loved my nephew Quinton. He was courteous, affectionate, smart and brave – everything my stepchildren would never be.

Johanna’s children, on the other hand – it shouldn’t have been their fault that they were whiny and obnoxious. I’d tried to make myself like them, but I couldn’t, and so I made more allowances for them than I ever would have for a child of my own.

My relationship with them didn’t warm as they grew older. Any overtures I made were rebuffed until I finally stopped beating my head against a stone wall.

Shortly after he turned sixteen, Billy grew dissatisfied with home-schooling and rebelled.

“He’s so much like his father,” Johanna wept. He did have Bill Harrington’s straight nose and the cleft in his chin, but if that wasn’t what she meant, I had a feeling she was wrong.

I volunteered to use what pull I had to get him into Phillips Exeter, the prep school all Sebring males attended. As I should have expected, both he and his mother rejected my offer.

“I’m not a Sebring, Uncle Bryan.” The way he called me ‘Uncle Bryan’ was so different from the way Quinn said it. “I’ll go to the school I choose.”

After all these years, it still hurt to be shut out like that. I turned on my heel and left them to hash it out between them.

He finally chose the military prep school his father had gone to, but after a very short time, Billy decided that wasn’t for him, and he came home. His grades weren’t bad, although not as good as Johanna thought, and he wound up going to a local private school where the parents’ ability to pay the tuition was the most important criteria.

Libby grew into a very pretty girl who had her mother’s looks, although beyond that, I knew very little about her, not even what rock star’s poster she had up on her wall. With Billy no longer being home-schooled, she refused to stay at home any longer herself.

All the schools that Libby was willing to consider had long waiting lists. However, she didn’t mind accepting Sebring help.

Portia happened to be visiting us, a very rare occurrence. “I can pull some strings to get Libby into Tidewater, if you like.”

“Tidewater?”

In spite of herself, Libby seemed impressed. “Oh, Mom, it’s a really prestigious school in Massachusetts!”

“Massachusetts?”

“It’s an all-girl preparatory school. I attended Tidewater when I was Libby’s age,” Portia said.

“No. It’s out of the question.”

“But Mom, you let Billy go out of state…”

“Only for a few weeks. Besides, he’s a boy, and Ulysses S. Grant Military Academy was in Delaware. Massachusetts is so far…”

But Libby wheedled and pleaded and finally got her way.

That lasted a few months longer than Billy’s foray into military school. Libby was sent home for sneaking out to dally with a boy from a nearby town.

“I love him, Mom!” Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes flashed.

“Nonsense! You’re too young to know what love is! Now tell me what he did to you!”

Libby threw a horrified look my way. What child wanted their sex life discussed in front of a stranger. “Nothing! Mom, nothing, I swear! He respects me!”

“A likely story. Get your coat. I’m taking you to see Dr. Lumley.”

I felt sorry for Libby. She looked totally confused. “Why?”

“To make sure you’re still a virgin!”

“Johanna, do you know the time?” I tried to be the voice of reason. “Lumley isn’t in his office.”

“It doesn’t matter, Bryan! He delivered her, and he’ll see her if I ask him!”

“You don’t believe me?” Libby’s face crumpled.

“Enough, Johanna.”  For once I stepped in. “Libby has said nothing went on between her and the boy.”

“Stay out of this, Bryan!”

“I’m afraid I can’t. Not this time. Don’t you see that if you do this, Libby will lose all respect for you?”

“This is none of your affair!”

Before I lost my temper and snapped at her, the phone rang, and I picked it up. “Sebring.”

“It’s Market, sir. Sorry to call you at home. Your brother’s in trouble.”

“Jeff?” Of course it would be Jeff. Tony didn’t go into the field. “How bad?”

“We need you here to coordinate the effort to get him back to neutral territory.”

“Have you spoken to Edwards?”

“He’s on his way here also.”

“Good. I’m leaving now, but he should get there before I do. Have him get started on the…” I lowered my voice and gave him specifics.

“Yes, sir.”

“I have to go, Johanna. Listen to me: trust Libby.” I left, putting every thought but how to rescue my brother out of my head.

I broke all speed limits getting there. I wished I could ask Tony to come to Langley, just to be nearby, but I couldn’t.

However, I’d no sooner sat at my desk than he called.

“I just heard. I’m on my way.”

“But…”

“If there’s anything you need from NSA, I can get it from your office.”

“Tony…” I couldn’t tell him it wasn’t necessary. If Jeff’s cover was blown, I’d need all the help I could get. And Jeff was his brother too, after all. “Thanks, big brother.”

“Bryan, I know you’ll get him out of this mess.”

“Thanks.” I hung up and got back to work.

I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I felt a pair of strong hands kneading the knots out of my shoulders and a warm breath tickling my ear.

“You’re a mass of tension, little brother.”

“Tony,” I breathed. “Thanks.” I forced myself not to lean back into his touch.

“Any news?”

“Not yet. I’ve got you set up at the desk in my outer office.”

With a final squeeze he stepped away from me. “I’ll get started then.”

For three days straight I was at my desk. When there was nothing Tony could do, he made sure there was plenty of hot coffee and sandwiches available.

And then Ludovic called from their place in Adams Morgan. Jeff was home. “He looks like something the cat dragged in, but he’s alive.”

“His cover?”

“Intact. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Ludo didn’t have much more to tell than that.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can, Ludo.” I hung up and turned to the others in my office who waited tensely to hear the outcome. “Jeff is back. His cover wasn’t blown.”

Collective breaths of relief blew out, and they left my office, leaving only Tony and me.

“I’ll call my people and tell them to stand down.”

“Good idea.”

I put in a call to Ben Monroe, who was heading up the black ops team that would gear up to go in and take out the ones responsible. “We’ve got Jeff back. I’m scrubbing the mission.”

“Got it, boss. I’m glad to hear he’s home.” He hung up.

“You’re going to Adams Morgan?” Tony was lingering in the doorway.

“Yes.”

“I’ll go with you.”

“I’m driving.”

He just nodded and followed me down to my car. I did the seventeen-minute drive in ten minutes.

Jeff was battered but alive, and Ludo was fussing over him. “How badly are you hurt? Do you need to see a doctor?”

“That hot bath helped a lot.” Jeff was wearing a pair of silk pajamas that clung damply to his shoulder and hip. There were hearts and cupids all over them, and I shook my head. Jeff saw and gave a tired grin. “A Valentine gift from Ludo.”

“You realize this means Jeff really loves you, don’t you, Ludo?” Johanna had never gotten me anything like that.

“I… I… know.” His lower lip trembled, and he turned to take his lover in a careful embrace. “I… Bloody hell, Jefferson, I almost lost you!”

“Hey, hey! You’ll never lose me. I’m all right, pet.” Jeff wrapped his arms around him, but then sagged in his arms. “I’m just so tired…”

“Bed! You need to go to bed! Do you want me to call a doctor?”

“No. I’ve already seen one. Nothing’s broken. Thanks, Bart. You’re a real mate.”

I hadn’t noticed the craggy-faced, blue-eyed blond who stood in the shadows.

“Bryan, will you take care of…” Ludo gestured toward him and began to lead Jeff to their bedroom.

I recognized ‘Bart’ from a picture I’d had taken by an officer in London years before. He was older, but there was no mistaking him.

Bart Freeman, Folana Fournaise’s second-in-command.

“’ve got to go now,” he mumbled, looking uncomfortable.

Before he could take a step toward the door, I grabbed his hand and gripped it tightly. “Thank you, Bart.”

“Yes,” Tony said. “Thank you, Mr. Freeman. If our sister and parents were here, they would thank you too.”

“You know who I am?” He seemed surprised and embarrassed.

“We know,” I assured him. “We may be desk jockeys, but we know. If you ever need anything…”

“Oi, mate, that’s good of ya, but nah, your government don’t owe me nothin’.”

“My government might not owe you anything, but my family does.”

“Ta, I’m sure, but the Duchess’d skin me if I screwed up badly enough to need anyone’s help but hers.”

“All right, but remember, the offer stands.” I let his hand go, and he ducked his head and gave me a lopsided grin. I could see why Jeff had once been attracted to him.

Tony shook his hand as well, and then Bart Freeman was gone.

“God, this has been a long seventy-two hours.”

“Yes.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “We’d better be going ourselves.”

“You’re dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine. Come on. I’ll drop you off at home.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. Thanks all the same. One of my men can do that. Little brother…”

I gave a tight smile. I couldn’t bear to hear him call me that, not when I knew he wasn’t going to waste any time putting distance between us.

“Take care of yourself, Tony. I’ll see you.” Although unless a national crisis occurred, it probably wouldn’t be until the following Christmas, when we’d accompany Portia to her husband’s grave at Arlington.

“Yes.” He rested his hand on the back of my neck for a second, and I couldn’t prevent a shiver. He dropped his hand and stepped away from me. “I’ll see you, Bryan.”

It was mid-afternoon when I arrived at home. The house was quiet when I entered it. I climbed the stairs and walked down the hall toward my bedroom. All I wanted to do was sleep.

The door to the bedroom I’d shared once with Johanna opened.

“You’re finally home. Things are a shambles here!”

“Jeff is fine, thanks for asking.”

She flushed. “I’m glad to hear that.” She chewed on her lip. “Libby’s locked herself in her room. She’s been there since… She won’t come out.”

“You took her to Lumley.”

“I had no choice.”

“Johanna, she had to be humiliated and mortified.”

“You think you know my daughter?”

I glanced at Libby’s door. “We can’t talk out here.” I walked into the bedroom.

She followed me in, closing the door firmly behind her.

“Where’s Billy?”

“I sent him to stay with Bill’s parents for the weekend. He doesn’t need to be exposed to this sordid… How could you persuade me to allow my child to attend such a place?”

“I had nothing to do with this, Johanna. Libby did all the persuading, and you went along with it.” As she usually did.

“It was your sister’s abominable idea. This was a family matter, and if she’d simply stayed out of it…”

“You’re blaming Portia?” I raised an eyebrow. “All she did was attempt to use her influence to help her niece.”

My wife’s mouth tightened. Since Portia wasn’t available, it seemed I was the most likely target for her ire.

“As for Tidewater, it’s an exceptional school.”

“Exceptional? Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

“It has an excellent reputation and a very high standing in the academic world.”

She huffed. “Look what happened to my daughter!”

“Nothing happened to her, Johanna,” I said wearily.

“We know that now! But when she came home…”

“I’m not going to get into a shouting match with you over this. Libby chose to go to Tidewater, and you chose to let her.” I turned on my heel and left the room. I thought I saw Libby’s door was opened a crack, but I wasn’t in any mood to give it any consideration. I jogged down the stairs. Johanna was close behind. I picked up my car keys from the table by the front door. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“You just got home!”

“Well, I’m going out again.”

“Bryan, if you walk out that door…”

“You’ll do what? Make me sleep on the couch? Face it, Johanna. There really isn’t much you can threaten me with.”

“I can…”

“Take away the children? At this point, they wouldn’t care, and do you really think that I would either?”

Her face became pale. I shook my head and let myself out.

I drove to Harry’s Hat, a small place I knew of in McLean, where I’d go sometimes for lunch. No one knew how it got its name, or even why. It was the replication of a plantation house. In the rear of the ground floor was a small restaurant that offered excellent food. A classic mahogany bar with a brass foot rail and full length mirror behind the bar was in the front of the building. On the upper floors were discreet bedrooms for anyone wanting to stay for a few hours or a few days.

I’d never taken advantage of those rooms, although I had come very close once. It had been after I’d had to select a tiny white coffin.

His name was Frank Holloway. He was a blond, blue-eyed officer from the Houston office, who’d been temporarily assigned to Langley.

I didn’t do anything. I couldn’t claim to be noble, couldn’t say that the vows I’d exchanged with my wife had kept me faithful in that instance.

The truth of the matter was that it would have felt as if I were betraying the one I loved.

The bartender looked up as I entered. “Mr. Sebring! Good afternoon, sir. We don’t usually see you here on a Sunday.”

“Hello, Joe. I’m surprised to see you here myself.”

“Just filling in for a friend.”

“I thought I’d stop by for a drink.”

“Yes, sir. Your usual?”

“Make it a double.” I took a seat at the bar and waited while he poured me a glass of Glenlivet neat. I’d consider this a celebration of Jeff’s safe return to the fold, his head bloody but unbowed.

A young man came from the direction of the restrooms. He nodded at me and crossed to the corner where an upright piano stood, sat before it, and began to play. After a few bars, I recognized it. ‘I’m Always Chasing Rainbows.’

How apropos.

“Another double, Mr. Sebring?”

“Sure, why not, Joe?”

But the Glenlivet wasn’t helping. I needed to talk to someone. Jeff was no doubt being fussed over by Ludo, and Tony didn’t need to hear about this. That left Portia.

There was a pay phone by the restrooms. I went back there, put in a coin, and called my sister.

“Mann residence.”

“Quinn. Hi. It’s…”

“Hi, Uncle Bryan! How are you?”

“Fine,” I lied.

“We just got back from our ride, and Ludo called to give us the good news. I’m glad Uncle Jeff is okay!”

“So am I. Quinton, is your mother in?”

“Yes. She’s upstairs changing.”

“Does she have anything planned for this afternoon? I’d like to come over.”

“No. I’m going to the movies with Lacey Richardson, but Mother doesn’t have any plans.”

“All right. Would you tell her I’ll be there in about twenty minutes?”

“Sure. Uncle Bryan? Is everything all right?”

My stepchildren would never have asked. They wouldn’t have cared.

“Everything is fine, Quinn,” I lied again. “Tell me, why does the name Lacey Richardson sound familiar?”

“We’ve competed in a few shows together. Listen, I can cancel the movies - ”

“No. That isn’t necessary. You go ahead and have fun. What are you going to see?”

“The Black Stallion.”

A horse movie. I should have known. “I’ll let you go then. Enjoy the movie.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bry. Bye.”

I hung up and went back to the bar. I settled my tab, leaving him a good tip. “So long, Joe.”

He studied me for a moment. “Drive carefully, Mr. Sebring.”

“I will.” I went out to my car and drove to Great Falls.

A stocky, older woman opened the door when I got there. Alyona Novotny had been part of my sister’s household since shortly before Quinn’s birth. “Mr. Bryan. Young Quinton tells us you were coming. Is good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too, Alyona. How have you been?”

“Arthritis pinches at my joints, but otherwise, I am good.” She took my coat.

“I heard that Gregor has been given a promotion.” Her brother had been in the FBI for the past eight years.

“Yes. We are very proud of him. He do good for boy from Czech family. Come, Missus is in back parlor.”

“I know the way, Alyona. You needn’t trouble yourself.”

She looked me over carefully. “I make you something to eat.”

“I really don’t…”

“Is no trouble. You too skinny.” She left before I could object.

For the first time in days, I laughed, and I went to find my sister.

Portia met me in the doorway. “Bryan. You’re right on time. As usual.” She hugged me and kissed my cheek. I realized she could smell the alcohol on my breath, but she didn’t say anything about it. “It’s good to see you.”

“Same here, little sister.” I kissed her cheek.

“Ludovic called to let me know that Jefferson is all right.”

“Quinn told me. I’m sorry, Portia. I didn’t even think to call you.”

“This has been a bad week for you. Don’t worry about it. You’ve had enough else to worry about.”

“Did Johanna call you?”

“No. Should she have?” She stroked my cheek and gave me a concerned look. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Yes.” I should have realized that she wouldn’t let it ride.

“That’s unusual for you, and especially for a Sunday afternoon, Bryan. Tell me what’s bothering you.” She crossed to the loveseat and gestured beside her.

I sat down next to her and poured out the events of the past week, concluding with the condition in which I’d found my household.

“She did that to her own daughter? Oh, Bryan, I hate to criticize your wife, but that really wasn’t a smart thing to do!”

“I know. If I’d been home, I would have stopped her.”

“I thought my offer to get Libby into Tidewater would help, but it seems I’ve made things more difficult for you.” She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No more than usual, and it’s not your fault, Portia. Johanna blames everyone for Libby’s behavior except Libby.”

“I can understand her going out after hours. We all did it.”

That didn’t surprise me. I’d dated one of her sorority sisters who had also been at Tidewater with her, and she’d told me as much. ‘Breezy gets away with murder,’ she’d continued, not realizing I could detect the resentment in her tone. I didn’t like the fact that she’d gossiped about my sister; I’d cut short our date and never called for another one, even after word got back to me that she wouldn’t have been averse.

“Well, at least you had the sense not to get caught.”

“Yes. It was…”

Alyona Novotny tapped on the door. “I am not interrupting, I hope?”

“Not at all, Alyona.”

“I make sandwich for Mr. Bryan. I make with black Russian bread. Will put meat on your bones.”

“Thank you, Alyona.” I accepted the plate, balanced it on my knees, and took a bite. Only then did I realize how hungry I was.

She smiled in approval as I went to work on the roast beef sandwich. “I make some tea now.” And she left the room.

“You were saying?” I asked after I finished a mouthful.

“I was going to say that it was very sloppy of Libby. I wonder if she wanted to get caught.”

“I wondered that myself. But why?”

“To hurt you?”

I gave a short laugh. “I don’t matter enough in her life.”

“Oh, Bryan.” She squeezed my knee. “Maybe you mean more to her than she even realizes.”

“I doubt it.” I was revealing more than I’d ever intended, but somehow, since I’d started, I couldn’t stop. “Johanna’s never let me get close enough to her children to mean more than someone who has dinner with them on occasion. For the longest time I couldn’t figure why they seemed to keep me at an arm’s length. Then I overheard her mother tell them, ‘Behave, or he’ll leave your mommy. You’ll be without a father again, and it will all be your fault!’“

Portia spat out a word I’d never heard her use, that I didn’t even know she knew. She was furious. I wanted to kick myself for talking too much.

“I shouldn’t have dumped this on you, Portia. Please don’t mention this to anyone.”

“Not even Tony?”

“Especially not Tony.”

“Bryan!”

“Portia, Tony wanted me to be married in the worst way. If he knew how miserably I’ve failed in my marriage…” My hands clenched on what little was left of the sandwich, leaving it a doughy mass, and I put it down on the plate and waited to hear how she would respond to that.

“Oh, Bryan, Johanna isn’t the one, is she?”

I met her eyes, unable to pretend I didn’t know what she was talking about. “No.”

She reached across the seat and hugged me. “I promise this will just be between the two of us.”

“Thanks, little sister.” I swallowed and scrambled for another topic of conversation. “So how is Quinn doing? Has he started packing yet?” He had been selected to be a member of the US equestrian team for the Summer Olympics in Moscow.

She permitted the change of subject. “He’s so proud and so excited.”

“I can imagine.” We were all proud of him. “How do you feel about letting him go over there on his own?”

“I think he deserves to have that experience. And I’ll be there when he takes his position at the start of the cross country event.”

We were all going to be there, Tony and Jeff and I.

“I will be there also, with Gregor. We not miss our boy bringing home a medal!” Alyona’s younger brother had joined her as part of Portia and Nigel’s household after Quinton was born; he was virtually another uncle to Quinton. She glowered at the condition of my sandwich. “You not eat enough, Mr. Bryan.” She placed the tray that held the tea things, including a little pot of honey, on a coffee table and picked up the plate.

“Thank you, Alyona.”

She looked at the mangled remains on the plate and left the room, muttering under her breath.

Portia handed me a cup and saucer.

I cleared my throat. “I have no doubt they’ll bring home the gold. Jack Be Nimble is a good mount.”

“I’m not sure Quinton will be able to take him. He’s been favoring his off hind leg lately according to the team’s vet.”

“Who will Quinn ride then?”

“He’s been working with Quasimodo.”

“That palomino you bought him after… er… in ’78?” I was reluctant to bring up Nigel’s death.

“Yes. He’s a good dressage horse, and Coach thinks he’ll do fine on the jumps of the steeplechase, if they start off with him. Sam Barton’s and Harry Tremain’s mounts are strong jumpers, and they’ll be able to make up whatever time is lost.”

“I’m glad Quinn has a backup plan.” I concentrated on fixing my tea the way I liked it.

“He usually does.”

I raised my eyes to hers. There was a proud smile on her lips. “Will he run into Sidorov, do you think?”

“Perhaps, if they have him handling security at the Olympic Village.”

“Did you ever meet him, Portia?”

“Not officially, and not face to face.”

“Oh? Now that’s a story I’d like to hear.”

“You only think you do. Oh, very well. We were in Berlin at the time, and Nigel was sent a message to meet one of his contacts. I learned after he left that it was a ruse, the KGB intended to grab him.”

“Don’t tell me you followed!” I could picture my sister slipping through the streets of Berlin in the dark of the night, and I turned cold.

“Of course I’d followed. I knew where he was going and got there ahead of him. I was in the shadows, behind Sidorov. I had my little Smith & Wesson Centennial with me, and I pressed it against his spine. ‘This is a small gun,’ I whispered in his ear, ‘but it can put a very large hole in your spine.’“

“Did he threaten you?”

“Of course not. He’s too much a gentleman for that.”

“So he just stood there and let Nigel get away.”

“He didn’t have much choice. Afterward, we’d trade coded barbs.” She laughed softly. “He was a clever man. I liked him.”

“Did Nigel know?”

“That I liked him? I never kept secrets from my husband, Bryan.”

“That you’d been there that night.”

Her smile… if someone had ever smiled at me that way, I’d have moved heaven and earth to be with him.

“You never saw Sidorov’s face?”

“No. I’ve seen photos, though.”

“I met him once.” I wasn’t going to tell her it had been just before the Berlin Wall was erected. She’d had a miscarriage and lost her first baby, and the family had wanted to make sure she was all right. Jeff was already in Europe, and Tony would have gone as well, but he’d been unable to leave the country at the time, so I’d flown over in his place. “The photos didn’t do him justice. He was a handsome man.”

“Oh?”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing. Just… oh. Did you enjoy meeting him?”

“We played chess.”

“And who won?”

“It was a draw.”

“Was he the one, Bryan?”

“‘One’ what?” This time it took a minute or so for me to catch up with her thoughts. “Oh, that one.” She wouldn’t be upset if the person I’d fallen in love with was male, but I wondered how she would react if she knew who that male was. I couldn’t see her taking it well. After all, Tony hadn’t. “No, little sister. Sidorov wasn’t the one.”

**

Things between Johanna and I remained tense.

In spite of Dr. Lumley’s findings – or maybe because of them – she took a surprisingly rigid stand and insisted on sending Libby to Mary Magdalene Academy, a Catholic girls’ school that she selected herself, where the nuns still wore habits, frowned on makeup, and insisted the girls wear uniforms whose skirts had hems that fell a few inches below the knee. Libby wasn’t happy there, but she only had a few months of her junior year left, and then her senior year, and for a change, her mother stood firm; Libby had no choice.

But Libby no longer called her mother ‘Mom.’

**

When we pulled out of the Summer Olympics because of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the athletes denied the opportunity to represent our country were disappointed, to say the least. Portia took Quinn with her on a wine-buying trip to France to ease that disappointment, and they spent the summer there. She needed to remain a few weeks longer to conclude the sale, but Quinn had to return home for school. He was staying with us until it was time for him to start the fall semester at Philips Exeter, and while he still regretted the missed opportunity of the 1980 Olympics, there was a bounce in his gait and an expression on his face that hadn’t been there before.

I came to a halt in the doorway of my study. The thick, plush carpeting had muffled my footsteps, and neither occupant realized I was a silent observer of their tableau.

“Don’t tell me you’re being coy, Cousin Quinton.” Libby pouted as he removed her hands from around his neck. Her lipstick was smeared, and there was red on Quinn’s mouth.

“I’m not being coy, Libby. I’m just more selective about who I choose to make out with.”

“Have you ever even made out with anyone?”

“Yes. And… she… was very good.”

I noticed the slight pause before the ‘she’, but Libby didn’t. She gave a screech and struck out at him, her nails curled like talons, but Quinn caught her arms with casual ease and held her away from him.

“Someone should have spanked you years ago.”

“Maybe you’d like to try?” she taunted.

“I don’t think so.” His voice was amazingly cool for a fifteen year old, but then he had the blood of Portia and Nigel Mann in his veins.

“Are you going to tell Johanna? You’d better not!  She won’t believe you anyway.”

“No, but Uncle Bryan will.”

“Why should he? Everyone knows teenage boys want any girl they can get their hands on.” But she looked uneasy.

“He’ll believe me because he knows me; he knows I wouldn’t do something like that.” He let her go and started to turn. “Don’t try to kiss me again, Libby.”

I quickly backed away from the door, then approached again, this time whistling through my teeth so I would be heard.

“Libby. You don’t usually come to my study. Can I help you with something?”

Her eyes seemed overly bright. She flushed, bit her lip and cut a glance toward Quinn, then shook her head. “Johanna just wanted to know if you’d like to come to dinner now.”

“Thank you. Tell her I’ll be right along. Quinn, if you wouldn’t mind waiting a moment?”

Libby lingered, and I raised an eyebrow. She turned on her heel and flounced out.

“I’m sorry this happened under my roof, Quinn. How long has she been pestering you?”

“This was the first time.” He raised his head and looked into my eyes, and I realized with a shock that he was almost as tall as I was. “It wasn’t a big deal, Uncle Bry. Please don’t be angry…”

“I’m not angry with you, Quinton.” I ran my eyes over him over carefully. He didn’t look like the average fifteen-year-old. His face wasn’t marred by pimples, and his upper body, clothed in a hunter green tee shirt that brought out the green in his eyes, revealed muscles developed by controlling the thousand pound horses he rode. Even at his age, he had an air of being coolly contained. There would be those who would try to ruffle that containment.

“I meant please don’t be angry with Libby.” He accepted the handkerchief I handed him and wiped his mouth.

“She instigated the kiss, didn’t she?”

He didn’t avoid my eyes. “I don’t think she’s very happy.”

“You’re not responsible for her happiness or lack of it. The fact remains that she’s still three years older than you. I don’t like that she… molested you while you were under my roof.”

“It was just a kiss, Uncle Bry.” He hunched a shoulder. “It wasn’t a bad kiss, but…”

“But you said you’d kissed someone who was very good.”

Color mounted his cheeks. “You heard that?”

“Yes.”

“I needed to make her angry enough with me so that it wouldn’t happen again. It wasn’t right that it was in your home. I’d have been taking advantage of your hospitality.”

“You may be a Mann, Quinn, but there’s a lot of Sebring in you.”

His eyes lit up. “Thank you, Uncle Bryan. They’re two of the best families I know, and I like hearing that.”

I put my arm around his shoulders. “Let’s go in to dinner.”

Libby wasn’t at the table, and Quinton seemed a little relieved, although only someone who knew him would be able to tell.

“Libby has a headache,” Johanna informed us. “She’s having a light tray in her room.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, my dear. Where’s Billy?” I sat down across from her. “Does he have a headache also?”

She picked up her napkin and spread it across her lap. “He’s spending the evening with his study group.”

We began to eat.

**

Time moved on.

Libby completed her final year at Mary Magdalene Academy and went on to Brown University. In her sophomore year, she ran away with her Egyptology professor, who happened to be married.

I tracked them to Puerto Vallarta and, unbeknownst to Libby, had a little chat with him. He got a quickie divorce in Mexico and married her.

Apparently getting a Mexican divorce was all he ever taught her. She was in Mexico now, divorcing her third husband, while husband number four waited in the wings.

Billy dropped out of the private school he was attending. “The teachers are old farts who don’t know their asses from their elbows.” His stance was pugnacious, and he glared at me as if daring me to challenge him.

I just shrugged, my expression blank. “It’s your life, Billy.”

“Bryan!” Johanna was appalled, no doubt expecting me to exercise parental authority.

“You’re seventeen. You can stay here until you’re legally an adult. After that, you’re on your own. All I have to say is that without a high school diploma, the best job you’ll find will be at McDonald’s, and believe me, that won’t pay enough for you to rent an apartment.”

“Bryan!” Johanna’s wail followed me as I walked out of the room.

After hanging around the house for a month eating junk food, playing video games, and listening to what he claimed was music, Billy decided to get his GED. It didn’t take him very long.

Johanna was relieved until her son announced, “I’m tired of living in Baltimore.”

“Billy?”

“I’ve applied to a small college in upstate New York.”

“Billy!” Johanna wept again, but it did nothing to stop him.  

He graduated with a degree in English Lit and married immediately after, a New York girl he’d met his sophomore year – what was it with the Harrington siblings and their second year in college? Tess Whittier had been a grad student who was supplementing her student loans by working as a TA.

Within two years of marriage, their family had expanded to include a boy and a girl, and Billy had called recently to let Johanna know Tess was pregnant again.

1990

The day finally came when Johanna approached me. “I want out of this marriage, Bryan.”

I’d been expecting this. I slid the papers I’d been working on into the top drawer of my desk, then folded my hands and rested them on the blotter. “You’ve found someone?”

“Yes. He’s a stockbroker. He’s not as handsome as you, but…” She shrugged. “He’s a good man, and he loves me.”

“Well, at least you’ll know he’ll be home for dinner when he says he will.”

She gave a small laugh. “Yes. I’ll be moving to Manhattan. Now that Billy is settled there with his own family...” She hadn’t been happy when I’d refused to transfer to the New York office of the CIA, would not even discuss the possibility, although I’d had no objection to her frequent visits to her son. My job was at Langley, and I had more than thirty-five years there. Why she would think I’d leave was beyond me.

“Yes.” I looked around – this house that had been our home for our entire married life – and felt nothing but overwhelming relief. “It shouldn’t take me too long to pack my things.” 

Mother had passed away eighteen months earlier, and surprisingly, Father hadn’t survived her by very long. Jeff had asked Tony, Portia, and me to meet with him and Ludo. They wanted to move out to Shadow Brook and were willing to buy out our shares if we had no objection.

Their place in Adams Morgan had converted to condominiums, and I wondered how they would feel about working out an arrangement with it in exchange for my share. I’d talk to them about it.

It would be good to be in the heart of things again.

“You never looked for anyone, did you?”

“No.” I went very still, waiting to see what she was leading up to.

“That’s very sad, Bryan. I’m sorry for you.” She held out her hand, and I took it. “I’ve already packed all my belongings. My lawyer will see that you get the papers.”

2001

I was in the room of the condo that I’d made my study when the doorbell rang, and I paused in my packing.

I was tempted to let who was there continue ringing until they assumed there was no one home, but then the ringing was replaced by pounding.

“Answer the goddammed door, Bryan!”

It was my oldest brother.

I limped out of the study and down the hallway. “Hold your horses, Anthony! I’m on my way!”

“It took you long enough!” he snarled when I opened the door.

“I’m not as young as I used to be, Anthony.”

“You’re younger than I am.”

“And your point is?”

“If I can get around, so can you.”

“You didn’t take a spill.” A few years before, the horse I’d been riding had taken a jump wrong – my fault – and we’d both fallen. The horse had regained his footing, fortunately uninjured, but – unfortunately – not before he’d rolled over on me and broken my hip.

“Are we going to discuss this in the entryway?”

“Come into the parlor.” I led him to the room off the entryway that was the only one not crammed with boxes. “What, exactly, are we going to discuss? How this damp fall weather isn’t helping my hip?”

He gave me a look.

“All right. Can I get you something?”

“No. Sit down. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right.”

I sat down. Tony nudged an ottoman closer, and I stretched out my leg on it. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you doing here, anyway? Isn’t this a workday?”

“I just heard the news. Bryan, this is bullshit! You’re a better man than Holmes any day!”

“That’s beside the point.” I’d been wondering how long it would take for that bit of news to get around town. It hadn’t taken very long at all.

“You’re younger than I am!”

“You’ve already stated that. So what?”

“So – the President hasn’t asked me to resign! Why would he ask you?”

“Is the word out that he’s asked me to resign?”

He gritted his teeth. “I hate when you answer a question with a question! Explain yourself, please, Bryan.”

I sighed. “He didn’t ask me to resign. I did that all on my own.”

His gaze narrowed as he began to put two and two together.

“I imagine Holmes didn’t want what was actually going down to become known. He had big plans for me, Tony.” I felt every one of my seventy years. “He was going to give me Carruthers’ office.”

“What, that cubbyhole just off the secretarial pool?”

“That’s the one.”

“But you’re one of the best analysts the Company has!”

“He doesn’t think so.” I shrugged. “Rather than sit there and listen to my arteries harden, I resigned. You know he covets Hazelton’s position. I always felt sorry for the officers under Holmes, and if he takes over, I have a good idea how the Company will be run. I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Oh, little brother!” He dropped down in the loveseat across from me.

I turned and fussed with the pillow at my back so he wouldn’t see my face. It had been a long time since he’d called me that. “It doesn’t matter.”

“What are you going to do?”

“A friend who works on the West Coast got in touch with me some time ago. He’s offered me a job as a consultant on a new TV show he’s developing for cable.” I managed to give him a jaunty grin. “It’s called CIA. How’s that for a kicker?”

“Where are you going to live?”

“Jerry has his realtor looking for a place in the Hollywood Hills.”

“You’re going to be three thousand miles away!” He sounded as if the thought of that distance between us was something he was unhappy about, but I knew that had to be wishful thinking on my part. Why would three thousand miles bother him, when I’d been not more than twenty, and the only times I saw him were either related to our country’s security or when we spent Christmas with Portia?

“I was just packing,” I told him. “It’s mostly my clothes and a few trophies and ribbons, my books and music, so it won’t take very long, and shipping them shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“You’re really doing this?”

“Yes.”

He ran a hand through his hair, which was as thick and as fair as when he’d been a young man, and my fingers itched to touch it. “When are you leaving?”

“Not for a few days. I want to say goodbye to my friends, and Portia is making the arrangements for a farewell dinner for me with the family.

“In Great Falls? She’ll have it catered?”

“Yes. Gregor would have done the cooking, but why should he have to? He’s as much a part of the family as anyone.”

Tony nodded. “That’s true. After Nigel died, he was there for Portia and Quinn when we couldn’t be.”

“And even when we could. Tony…” I worried my inner cheek. “… Quinn is going to be there. So are Jeff and Ludo. So will you, I hope?” My oldest brother could be extremely stubborn. If he was angry that I’d left the business without so much as discussing it with him, he might refuse to come to my dinner.

“I’ll be there.” He gave a firm nod, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Opportunities to see him were so seldom, and I wanted to have memories of one last evening to take with me. “I’ll give Portia a call and let her know I’ll be there. I’m sure I can get Quinn to drive me.” Tony had a problem with night vision. He glanced at his watch. “I have to get going. There are some things… “

“Of course.” Was he in such a rush to leave? I struggled to get to my feet. He offered me a hand, and after a brief hesitation I took it. I walked with him to the front door. “Well, I’ll see you in a few days.” I wanted to hug him a final time, but instead I offered him my hand. “Thank you for stopping by, Tony.”

He hesitated for a second, then shook it, turned, and left.

I managed to get the door closed before the lone tear I knew would fall, fell.

Chapter 3

The dinner party my sister gave for me was just for family. It was relaxed and pleasant, including all my favorite dishes, and there seemed to be an air of something – anticipation, perhaps? – in the atmosphere. Was Gregor going to wheel out a cake at the end and have a scantily clad young lady pop out?

They’d had no qualms doing that at my bachelor party so many years earlier, but they wouldn’t do that with Portia here. I pushed the notion, as amusing as it was fanciful, from my mind.

Once dinner was finished, we went into the family room, and Gregor placed a disc into the DVD player.

“We’re going to watch a movie?” I asked, a little disappointed that my last night with my family would be spent in that manner.

“Family movies, Bryan.” Portia smiled at me.

Father had obtained a movie camera from somewhere, but he was always away, and so Mother had learned to take the movies. At first, her handling of the camera was shaky, but as her brood grew, so did her skill with filming us.

“On DVD?”

“Quinton knows someone.”

I smiled at my nephew. “Of course he does.”

Gregor handed me the remote control, then dimmed the lights and took a seat. I pressed the ‘play’ button, and the show began.

An elegantly lettered placard filled the screen: The Life and Times of Bryan Blackburn Sebring, Esq.

“That’s a very Hollywood touch, don’t you think, Bry?”

“Yes, it is, Jeff. Quinn, please be sure to thank whoever put this together.”

Mother was in the large four-poster in her bedroom. Cradled in her arms was an infant who was howling – we could tell even without the benefit of sound – at the indignities he’d been put through.

I wondered who had filmed this. Perhaps one of the servants.

“That’s you, Bry,” Jeff said.

“Are you sure? It could have been you. Or even Tony!”

“No, no, it’s you all right, little brother. The wallpaper in Mother’s bedroom is different. Father had it done over for her.” Tony laughed softly. “She had gone to New York City to do some shopping, and when she came home, it was to find these huge cabbage roses all over her bedroom walls. She wasn’t happy, I remember!”

“Why did he do that? I don’t remember him ever being interested in the house’s décor.”

In the light of the television, I could see Tony’s face became shut off.

“And besides…” Jeff was apparently oblivious. “… here comes Tony, and I’m right behind him.”

Sure enough, my brothers, eight and five years old, walked toward the bed, Jeff more cautious than Tony. Mother smiled at them and held me out so they could inspect me. She said something to Tony, and he took the infant me from her arms. The camera zoomed in just as I stopped crying.

“You always could get the sprout to quiet down, Tony.” Jeff laughed softly.

“I could, couldn’t I?” Tony sounded pleased.

The scenes played out with me tagging along behind my big brothers as I usually did – in the wooden fort one of the gardeners had built for them before I was born, on the apple trees in the orchard where we’d eaten so many green apples we’d all got bellyaches, in the pond where Tony had taught me to swim and where we’d whiled away those lazy summer days.

Then Portia joined the family, and it was the four of us.

“Good god! Did you know she was around when we were playing hide and seek?” I demanded.

“Are you kidding? Tony and I were too busy trying not to laugh every time she would point out where you were hiding.”

“How unsporting of me!” Portia made no attempt to stifle her laughter.

“Brat.” But I said it without heat.

The years continued to pass on film, Christmases and birthdays, my graduation from Phillips Exeter, formal affairs where I escorted young ladies during their come-out, and finally commencement ceremonies at Harvard.

A series of still photos were included that had been taken at various government functions.

“Who knew the sprout would look so good in a tux?”

“It runs in the family,” Portia said. “And of course Quinton got a double dose of it, because Nigel also was terribly handsome in formalwear.” She nodded toward the TV screen.

Tony, Jeff, and I were dressed in morning suits, standing with a proud but surprisingly nervous Nigel Mann as we waited for Father to walk Portia down the aisle.

There was my own wedding…

“I must say, you look cool as a cucumber, Bryan,” Ludovic remarked.

Jeff laughed. “In that case, you’d better not play poker with him, Ludo. Just before that was taken, I was holding his head over the commode.”

“Thank you so much for spoiling my image, Jefferson.”

“Nerves, little brother?” Tony appeared to be nonplussed, but I just hunched a shoulder.

And then came a scene of me with a very young Quinton. I was on a horse, walking him in figure eights, while my small nephew, in the saddle before me, held onto the reins with two determined hands.

“What a shame Johanna couldn’t carry to term, Bryan. You would have been a wonderful father.”

“This was at the manor, wasn’t it?” I asked, not wanting to talk about it. “Did you take these, Portia?”

“No. See? Here I come on Gingerbread.” She was riding a chestnut mare. “What a sweetheart you were, Quinton.” A soft smile lit Portia’s face. “Not to say you aren’t still a sweetheart.”

“Thank you for that, Mother.”

“You’re welcome. Mother must have taken these, Bryan. Do you know, we have so few movies of her.”

“So few pictures at all.” I became lost thought.

It must have been difficult for our mother. Father was always polite to her, but never overtly affectionate, and we picked up our cues from him. When we went to the manor house, it was to see him, to talk business, pausing in our conferences with him to greet Mother with the same reserve that we’d learned from him.

Although Portia had grown closer to her once she’d left the business.

I regretted that lost opportunity.

I gave a start when the DVD ended and the lights came on. Tony went to the DVD player to eject the disc. He put it in a case and handed it to me.

“With our love, little brother.”

“Thank you.” I blinked rapidly, then glanced at the others. “Thank you all.”

Gregor must have stepped out of the room while the DVD was still playing. He returned with a tray bearing brandy snifters and offered the first one to me.

“Thank you, Gregor.”

“How will you bear living in the wild west, Uncle Bryan?” Quinn took two snifters and gave one to his mother.

“Hardly wild, Quinn.”

“Oh, no? The denizens of Los Angeles are strange.”

“Any more strange than those who live in your Capitol?” Ludo asked.

“Are you calling me strange, pet?” Jeff frowned, but it was easy to see he wasn’t angry.

“Perish that thought!” Ludo laughed at him.

Jeff accepted two brandies from Gregor. He strolled across the room, leaned down to brush his lips across his lover’s mouth, and gave him a snifter.

“Aren’t you a little old to be doing that?” Portia stared pointedly at the white wings at Jeff’s temples, very noticeable against his chestnut hair, but I could see the laughter in her eyes.

“The day I’m too old to kiss Ludo is the day I’ll be ready to resign…” They had been together for almost twenty-five years.

“Really, Jefferson!” It was Tony who objected.

“Oh, damn. I’m sorry, Bry!”

“Why?” I shrugged. “I did resign.”

“Not because Holmes is the better man.” Tony scowled into the dark amber liquid in his glass.

“That’s the truth,” Quinn asserted. “It’s a good thing I don’t have to deal with him on a day- to-day basis. I’d probably wind up shooting him.”

“Why not shoot him anyway? We’ll all help you hide the body. And we could blame Vincent.”

No one needed to ask who Vincent was – we all knew of the senior WBIS agent who had a reputation for getting the job done no matter what the cost. Or the odds.

“I hear he’s after Sperling,” I murmured.

“Who’s that?” Ludo asked.

“Director of Interior Affairs at the WBIS. He cost Vincent a good team a few years ago,” Quinn said.

“That’s right. I heard that too.”

“How’d a Director of Interior Affairs get involved with one of Vincent’s operations?”

Quinn’s mouth crooked up in a grin. “Now that’s an interesting story.”

“Are you going to tell us?”

He laughed and shook his head.

“Why talk about business tonight?” Tony spoke, surprising us all.

“Are you feeling well, Anthony?”

“There are other things to be concerned with than the government.” He frowned at Jeff.

Jeff jumped up, strode to his side, and shook him. “Who are you, and what have you done with our brother?”

“Ass.” Tony cuffed him and laughed. “If you’re quite finished now? Very well. I’d like to propose a toast. To my little brother. May you be as happy on the West Coast as you’ve been here on the East Coast.”

“Happier,” Portia murmured. She came to me and kissed my cheek.

“Thank you, little sister.”

“The CIA’s loss is CIA’s gain.” It was Jeff’s turn.

“Pip, dear chap.” Ludovic held up his snifter.

“Show the lovelies in LaLa Land how it’s done in DC!” Gregor’s grin was wicked.

“God bless, Uncle Bryan.” Quinn touched his snifter to mine.

“Thank you.” I stood and raised my glass to my family, but had to pause to clear my throat before I said again, “Thank you all.”

I finished my brandy and hurled the glass into the fireplace. There was a moment of startled silence, and I realized what I had done.

“Portia, I’m sorry! I hope that wasn’t your good crystal!”

“It doesn’t matter.” She followed suit, and one by one so did the others.

**

The party began to break up after that.

Quinton’s cell phone rang, and he glanced apologetically at Portia. “Sorry, Mother.” He left the room to take the call.

She sighed and shook her head. “He’s gotten so involved with the Company. I wish he had more of a life outside it.”

“Hasn’t he been seeing… What was her name? The blonde doctor who was working for the CDC?”

“Marnie? He saw her a few times, then used the excuse of having to go out of the country to break it off. When he returned, he started seeing Susan Burkhart.”

“The name sounds familiar. Should I know it?” Tony asked.

“Possibly. She works at Justice,” I told him.

“Ah.” He shook his head.

“He seems to have no desire to get serious about anyone. I’m afraid he’ll become as cool as Nigel and I were reputed to be.” Portia really did look worried.

“He’ll be fine, little sister.”

“I just hope he finds someone who will make him happy.”

We all heard her unspoken words, Before it’s too late.

“He’ll be all right,” Tony said. “After all, he’s as much a Sebring as a Mann.”

“I’ll have him out to California as soon as I get settled and introduce him to someone who’ll distract him long enough to get his mind off Company business.”

“Of course you will.” Portia smiled and pinched my chin.

“Well, it’s a long ride back to Shadow Brook,” Jeff murmured. “Ludo and I had better start now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?”

“We don’t want to put you out.”

“Idiot. You know there’s plenty of room.”

“In that case, thank you.” Ludovic took her hand and kissed it. “We’d love to.”

“Excellent. You can take the room you usually stay in. I think you’ve left some spare clothes as well.”

“I’ll confess I wasn’t looking forward to the long drive home.” .Jeff turned to me. “Take care of yourself, Bryan. We’ll see you over the holidays, won’t we?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be Christmas or New Year’s otherwise.”

“Good.”

“Stay well, Bryan.”

“You too, Ludo.”

“I’ll just make sure you have fresh towels. I’ll be right back.” Portia walked out with them.

Gregor looked around. “Well, I may as well get started cleaning up the glass.”

“I’m sorry about that, Gregor. I didn’t mean to cause extra work for you.”

He waved aside my apologies. “It’s been a while since we did that in this house. I think the last time was when Quinn was promoted to Deputy Director. He’ll really be fine once he gets his ashes hauled.” He left to get a broom and dust pan.

Tony and I were alone for the second time in less than a week. I shifted uncomfortably, unsure whether to go or stay.

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age, Bry.” His sudden words caused me to jump, and it took a second for my heartbeat to return to normal.

“Why do you say that?”

“I may need glasses to read, but my eyes are still sharp enough to spot tears. I saw how touched you were by those old movies.”

“You caught me, big brother.”

He smiled and turned to stare at the fireplace, and I took the opportunity to drink in his features. They had sharpened somewhat with age, but they still took my breath away. His hair was so blond that if there were any white strands, they blended in. His body…

“Do you think Quinn still has to find his special someone, or has he been brought down by the bane of the Sebrings?”

“What are you talking about? What bane?”

“Of only loving once.”

“Oh, god, I hope not!” I thought of all the years I had spent in a lonely bed. It had been lonely, even when Johanna had lain beside me. “We haven’t been very lucky in love.”

He looked at me sadly. “You’re still upset about your divorce, aren’t you? I’m sorry I brought up the subject.”

“It’s all right, Tony.” I gave a short laugh. “And at least one Sebring has found lasting love.”

“That’s true. Who would have thought? Jeff was always hopping from bed to bed.”

“He seems very happy with Ludo, though. And Ludo seems very happy with him.” I couldn’t prevent a wistful smile from curving my lips. I wished I’d been so lucky.

“Hmm.” Tony changed the subject abruptly. “What time does your flight leave in the morning, Bryan?”

“9:45. I’d better get going if I want to get any sleep.”

“I’d like to talk to you.”

“Tonight?” My voice cracked as it hadn’t since I’d been an adolescent, and I realized I was nervous. I cleared my throat. “Tonight?”

“Yes, if you…”

Quinn hurried into the room. There was an impatient twist to his mouth. “Uncle Tony, I’m sorry, all hell is breaking loose at the Pentagon. I won’t be able to drive you home.”

“That’s all right. Bryan can give me a lift. That is, if you don’t mind, little brother?”

“No.” For a second he looked startled and disappointed. I clarified. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks.”

“Yes, thank you, Uncle Bryan. I’ve got to get going. Take care of yourself.”

“I’ll see you at Christmas.” We shook hands, and he left.

“Who’s driving our nephew crazy?” Tony asked.

“That would be Major Drum.”

“Jonathan’s son?”

“Yes.” Since I was CIA, I was more familiar than Tony with what was going on between the Company and the Pentagon. “It seems every time Quinn turns around, Drum is nagging him for favors.”

“Does Drum, the second, have the hots for Quinn?”

“Like Drum, the first, had for Jeff?” I shrugged and smiled. “It’s possible, although with ‘don’t ask, don’t tell,’ I don’t think it’s likely to be acted upon.”

“Does Quinn have any feelings for him?”

“I’d have to say no. Firstly, I don’t believe Quinn is inclined that way, and secondly, even if he were, I’ve seen him when he’s been even remotely interested in someone, and he tolerates the Major at most.” This couldn’t be what he wanted to talk about. “Tony…”

“Shall we be on our way?”

“Of course. Let’s find Portia and say good-bye.” I picked up the DVD and slipped it into my pocket, and we walked out of the room and toward the curving stairway just off the front foyer. Portia was just coming back down the stairs.

“You’re leaving? Bryan, remember there is such a thing as the telephone. Call once in a while.” She kissed my cheek.

“Yes, Portia.” I returned her kiss.

“Good-bye, little sister.”

“Tony. You’re sure…?” She rested her palm against his cheek.

“I am.”

“All right, then. Good-bye.”

What was that about?

She kissed him too, then opened the door and shivered. It was a cool night.

Tony and I walked to my car, a sporty little fire-engine-red convertible. The family thought I’d been having some kind of emotional crisis when I’d bought it, but none of them turned down an opportunity to ride in it.

The top was up. After all, it was fall, even if we were in Virginia.

I decided to take the bull by the horns. “You said that you wanted to talk to me.”

He was silent for so long I thought he’d changed his mind.

“Tony, have I done something to displease you?” As old as I was, he was still the big brother I… idolized.

“Good god, no!”

“Then what is it?”

He stopped and took a deep breath. “After I spoke to you the other day, I handed in my resignation.”

“What? Tony, you love the NSA. You can’t give it up!”

“I thought you loved the CIA.”

I shook my head. “Too many things have changed. It was easier than I thought it would be to walk away from it.”

“Yes. I found it easier than I’d thought also.”

I felt a little numb. “What are you going to do?”

He smiled, but the look in his eyes was uncertain. “I’m moving out to California.”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought it might be a good climate to retire to. Bryan, I’d like for us to share a house, but if you’d rather not…?”

My heart started pounding. “Why, Anthony? You know how I feel about you.”

“Even now? Even after all these years?”

“Even now. Sebrings only love once.”

“But what about Johanna?”

“I thought…” Oh, hell, I was tired of burying my feelings. “I thought, if I couldn’t have you, it didn’t matter who I had. And one of us needed to give Father a grandson to carry on the name.”

“Only it didn’t turn out the way.”

“No. It didn’t.”

“But you were happy with her, weren’t you?”

“No. Oh, we weren’t miserable, and I tried to be good to her, but…” I pressed the remote. The car chirruped, and the doors unlocked. “Get in, Anthony.”

He lowered himself to the seat with a grunt and was buckled up by the time I went around to the driver’s side and slid into the front seat.

“Why weren’t you happy with her?”

“Because she wasn’t you, goddamn it!”

He seemed taken aback by my vehemence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to stand in the way of your happiness.” He looked out the window. “All those years ago… I thought you’d be … Do you remember what I told you?”

“Of course. You said that what I felt wouldn’t last beyond our first sunrise together.”

I hadn’t asked him why he’d been so sure of that, coming instead to the conclusion that he was reluctant to indulge me because he simply hadn’t loved me like that, and what could be more tedious than … It had been too painful to pursue that thought, and so I’d turned to women who wanted nothing more than to be seen on my arm, and eventually I’d married my wife.

“Maybe… maybe that would have been true, Tony, but I would still have had that one night.”

“And you would have been happy with that?

“If that was all I could get?” I started to pull my seatbelt across my chest, grateful for a reason to avert my face. “I would have grabbed it with both hands.”

“You were only eighteen, Bryan. I thought you were blinded by patriotic fervor and the uniform I wore. And of course Jeff made being involved with another man seem so easy.”

“Easy? Are you out of your mind? Did you ever wonder why he took self-defense classes?”

“I thought he learned that in the Army.”

“He learned more in the Army, but he started taking lessons when he was thirteen. It was Mother’s idea, would you believe it? He came home from the movies with a black eye and a split lip.”

“And where was I?”

“You were at Harvard, Tony. You couldn’t be around to protect us all the time.”

“But if you realized how difficult it could be…”

“You still don’t understand, do you? I’m a Sebring, Tony. I didn’t want a man in uniform. I didn’t want any man.” Briefly I thought of Frank Holloway. “All I wanted was you.”

“Bry…”

“I’m sorry.” I ran the heels of my hands under my eyes, jammed the key into the ignition, and turned it on with a vicious twist.

Before I could put the car in gear, he turned it off.

“I was wrong to tell you what you felt wouldn’t last.”

“Then why did you?”

“I was so afraid!”

“You were afraid?” I felt as if I’d been hit in the head with a 2x4. He’d been awarded the Bronze Star not once, but twice. “Of what?”

“Of you, Bryan. You were so young. You hadn’t even begun to live. And you were my little brother!”

“After I told you that I … After I told you how I felt, you stopped calling me that. I missed hearing it.”

“It didn’t seem to take you long to be over whatever it was you thought you’d felt for me; you seemed happy to be with women, and I…”

“Were you blind?”

“I stopped coming around, if you’ll recall. I was terrified I’d run into you one day, and I just wouldn’t be strong enough to keep my hands to myself. I’d back you against a wall, and it wouldn’t matter that it was in Mother’s house, in plain sight for her or Father or Jeff or Portia – oh, god, especially Portia! – to see! I’d have had your trousers down around your ankles so fast you would have wondered what the fuck your big brother had for brains.”

I couldn’t catch my breath. My cock was harder than it had been in years. “And…” I swallowed. “And what would you have done to me, once you had my trousers down around my ankles?”

“Whatever you would have let me do. Suck you. Fuck you.”

“But you never did.”

“You were eight years younger.”

“I still am.”

“Yes, but I’m tired of being noble. And besides, somehow it doesn’t matter as much now. It’s occurred to me that people in California aren’t going to care much that a couple of old men are living together, especially since we’re brothers. If anyone asks, we’ll just tell them…”

“It’s none of their fucking business. They won’t believe us anyway, you know. They’ll think we’re gay.”

“Does that matter so much to you?”

“Y’know, big brother,” I laid my fingertips against his face and ran my thumb over his cheekbone, “for someone who’s supposed to be such a smart man, you really don’t have much going on between your ears. It never mattered to me.”

“So you love me anyway?”

“I’ve always loved you, Tony.” It didn’t escape me that he hadn’t said he’d loved me. He loved me as his brother, and that was enough. “Just…”

“What?”

“Be gentle with me, all right? It will be my first time.” I couldn’t help laughing a bit, even as I looked away in embarrassment. That was so cliché.

“Bryan, what are you saying? That you never…”

“Not with a man, no.”

“But I thought…”

“It was you, Tony. It was only you. Don’t you understand? If I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want anyone.”

“Oh, little brother.” He cupped my chin and turned my head to meet his eyes. “All these wasted years.”

I gave a watery laugh. “Not wasted if they’ve finally got us to here.”

He leaned forward and kissed me for the first time. It was closed mouthed and chaste, but it was the most erotic kiss I’d ever had, and I was whimpering and shivering by the time he drew back.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do. It’s not just because we share the same blood. It nearly killed me, all these years, knowing you were just out of my reach… You’re my one love, Bryan.”

“Oh, god, Tony!” I unbuckled my seatbelt and threw myself at him, cursing the console that separated us. I covered his face with kisses, petting his arms and chest, incoherent with my desire to have him as close to me as I could get him.

He laughed and stroked my hair, brought my mouth to his and kissed me again, then wrapped his arms around me and leaned his forehead against mine. “Come back to my place, little brother?”

Startled, I looked around. “Oh, my god! We’ve been necking in front of our sister’s house!” I got myself back into the driver’s seat, buckled up, and turned on the ignition.

He laughed again, and this time he let me put it in drive.

“I just have one question.”

“And what’s that, big brother? Who’s pitching, and who’s catching?”

“No. Well, yes, that too.”

“Then…?”

“What are we going to tell Portia?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something.” I reached over and stroked his thigh, then eased the gas pedal down and headed for the road that would take us home.

**

It was very early the next morning. I stood by the window in Tony’s bedroom, watching the sky lighten. He came to stand beside me, his arm a warm weight on my shoulder.

“Our first sunrise.”

“The first of many.” I turned in his arm and kissed him, then leaned my cheek against his.

“Any regrets, little brother?”

“None, big brother. You were worth waiting for.”

**

We settled in to life in Los Angeles, and it was like a honeymoon, better even than the time I’d spent with Johanna in Hawaii. I never knew my older brother to be so relaxed, and I… I was almost giddy with a joy I never thought I’d feel.

Tony wasn’t pleased with the place Jerry had found for me, a one bedroom apartment that would never hold all the furniture he intended to have shipped from the East Coast, although I didn’t care as long as we were together.

During the week, Tony caught up on reading all the books he’d never had time for, and on the weekends we went looking for a house.

We finally found one that he fell in love with at first sight. It was supposed to have belonged to Ramon Navarro, and Tony was so thrilled by that fact that it really hurt to tell him the house had actually been built the year after the silent-screen star had died.

It needed a lot of work, but because of that, we got it for a very good price, and while I was at the studio, Tony found a contractor and worked with him on its restoration.

We returned east for the holidays and stayed with Portia. Naturally, she put us in separate bedrooms.

At dinner that night, she said, “California must agree with you, Bryan. You’re looking happier than I’ve seen you in a very long time.”

“Good grief, don’t tell me I went around looking like a sour puss!”

“Well, I won’t, because you didn’t, but it stood to reason life with Johanna would affect you.”

I kissed her cheek and took my seat at the table. “I am happy, little sister, and I’ll tell you why!” Tony raised an eyebrow, and I grinned at him. “I don’t have to deal with Edward Holmes.”

“And what’s Tony’s excuse? He’s looking very self-satisfied himself.”

“It’s living with the younger generation.” He grinned and winked at me. “Bryan’s given me a new lease on life.”

“I’m so glad you’re both finally happy.”

I looked at her sharply, but she was helping herself from the platter of sliced pork loin that Gregor was holding, and I couldn’t see her expression. Tony just picked up his wine glass and took a sip.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, I slipped down the hall to his room.

“You can’t stay here long, little brother.”

“I won’t.” I stripped off my robe and pajamas and got into bed beside him, and laughed when I realized he was naked under the covers.

His arms came around me. “You know you sleep like the dead after we’ve made love.”

I showed him the watch I was wearing. “State of the art, big brother. It has an alarm that will wake me, guaranteed or my money back.”

He nuzzled my ear. “It had better, or Portia is going to be very shocked!”

Afterwards, after I’d caught my breath and settled comfortably against him, he whispered in my ear, “Merry Christmas, Bryan.”

Yes, it was a very merry Christmas.

That New Year’s we stayed with Jeff and Ludo at the manor, and this time it was Tony who wandered down the hallway to the bedroom that had been mine as a boy.

It was only illuminated by the fire in the fireplace, and the crackling flames highlighted his fair hair.

He leaned back against the door, letting his weight close it. “Do you have that watch, little brother?”

“You bet.” I held out my right wrist, then drew back the covers to show that this time I was the naked one. “Now hurry up and get in bed…”  

He chuckled and within seconds was naked also. He got under the blankets and pulled me into his arms.

“It was never like this,” I murmured, shivering as he stroked the curve of my hip.

“I’m selfish enough to be glad of that. I love you, Bryan.”

I smiled against his throat. “Love you too, Tony.” I shifted and couldn’t prevent a sudden sharp gasp.

“What’s wrong?”

“This damn Eastern winter! My hip doesn’t like it!”

Tony angled me so my weight wasn’t on my hip and rested his palm against it. The warmth of his palm felt good.

“It would be nice if we could have the family out to California next Christmas,” he murmured.

“Yes, but Portia would miss going to Arlington to talk to Nigel. Maybe for New Year’s?”

“In the renovated ballroom? That’s a marvelous idea, little brother! We’ll make plans with the others first thing in the morning.”

“And right now?”

“Right now, I’ve got other plans, just for you!”

It was a good thing it was common knowledge that the winter bothered my hip. When we finally joined the others, late the next morning, no one questioned the fact that I was limping.

2002

My phone at the studio rang. “Bryan Sebring.”

“It’s Tony.”

“Need me to come home and program the VCR, big brother?” That was his way of letting me know he wanted me home and in bed as soon as I could get there. The people I worked with must have thought he was a complete technophobe.

“I just wanted to let you know we’ll be having company for dinner.”

“Oh?” Which meant there would be no sex up against the wall in the foyer – my hip wasn’t up to us making love on the floor. Oh well, there was always the bed afterward. “Do you want me to pick something up?”

“No- Yes. A box of mac and cheese.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. Bry, this is going to solve everything!”

“Okay.” Although I didn’t know what might need solving. “I’ll see you in about an hour.”

“Drive carefully, little brother.”

**

When I let myself in the house, I could hear voices coming from the living room, and I made my way there.

Tony was in the arm chair that he’d seen at a shop that sold off the belongings of Hollywood actors and actresses whose stars no longer shined so brightly. ‘It’s Ramon Navarro’s!’

It probably wasn’t, but I indulged him.

On the loveseat was a breathtakingly beautiful young woman, and beside her was a little girl whose piquant face was framed by a mass of red-gold ringlets.

“You probably don’t remember my brother, Cara. This is Bryan. Bryan, this is Cara Mia ‘Nme. Allen Ford was her father.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Allen used to work for me.”

“Ah.” That explained why the name didn’t ring a bell. “Cara Mia. It’s nice to meet you.”

“How do you do, Mr. Sebring? This is my daughter, Sunday.”

Enormous blue-green eyes regarded me solemnly, and I felt my heart lurch. If Johanna and I had ever had a child, he would have had eyes much like this child’s.

I crouched down and held out my hand. “How do you do? So you’re the little lady I brought the mac and cheese for?”

“I love mac and cheese!” She smiled at me winsomely, and I couldn’t help smiling in return. “May I help you make it?”

I sent a panicked look toward my brother. He better than anyone knew that my skills in the kitchen were limited to boiling water for tea or putting together a ham sandwich.

“How about if you help Mommy make it, sweet pea?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I’ll show you lovely ladies where the kitchen is.” Tony took her elbow, grinned and winked at me, and ushered them toward the back of the house.

I trailed after them, puzzled.

**

“Bry.”

“Yes, Tony?” I was driving us back from the small motel where we’d just dropped off Cara Mia and her daughter.

“She’s in trouble.”

“I noticed that scar over her collarbone.” Sunday had grown sleepy and had gone to her mother to be picked up. The movement had caused Cara Mia’s sweater to dip low, revealing the thin white line. “Did she tell you anything about it?”

“No, but from what she didn’t say, I gathered her ex-husband is an abusive SOB. She did say she was worried for Sunday’s safety. They were living in Manhattan when he showed up and made noises about taking the baby away from her. She changed her name and has been on the run since then.”

“Want me to have someone take care of him?”

“We can’t do that. Unfortunately. He comes from a prominent family. Meanwhile…”

“Yes?”

“This could be the perfect solution to our… our situation.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s the least I could do, give Allen Ford’s daughter and granddaughter a safe haven.”

“What happened to him?”

 

“He was killed, a stupid mugging gone wrong… That’s what we told his wife.”

“Only it wasn’t a mugging?” We were at a light, and I turned to look at him.

He hunched a shoulder. “The thing was, Allen liked the occasional male on the side.” He shook his head. “I wish he had confided in me.”

“No one outside the family knew about Jeff and Ludo. Ford wouldn’t have thought it was safe.”

Tony sighed. “You’re right.”

“So it could have been a mugging, or it could have been a hate crime.”

“Or it could have been something else. He was working on some hush-hush projects at the time.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Exactly. We could never tell. At any rate, the investigation turned cold. Her mother moved the family away, and I lost track of them.”

“What do Cara Mia and her daughter have to do with ‘our situation’?”

“Don’t you see? I can marry her!”

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, feeling as if he’d kicked me in the testicles. “Which bedroom do you intend me to take?” Or did he want me to move out completely?

“What are you- Bryan, don’t be an ass. You’re staying in the master with me!”

“I think it will be a little crowded, don’t you? Besides, is Cara Mia that liberated?”

“She doesn’t love me, and I don’t love her, but they’ll be safe with us.” He cuffed the back of my head. “The house has six bedrooms. She and Sunday can take their pick of them.”

“So- so things will stay the same between us?”

“You know, Bryan, I don’t know how you can think they’d be any different!”

Oh, I didn’t know. The man I’d loved all my life, who’d only confessed to returning that love less than a year before, could very well have decided that loving me was an interesting experiment but that he wanted a wife and children more. After all, he was a very potent man in spite of his age, and who knew that better than I?

“Bryan. I love you. You’re my one love. Get that through your thick Blackburn skull!” He’d always teased me about being as stubborn as our mother’s father.

“She’s a young woman, though. What are you going to do when she wants the physical intimacy of marriage?”

“Didn’t you notice she tended to shy away from either of us if we got too close?”

“Things change, Tony. What do we do then?” Because if she betrayed my brother, I’d have no qualms in finding her ex-husband and turning her over to him.

“We’ll worry about that if and when.”

“All right. Am I safe in assuming you haven’t spoken to Cara Mia about this yet?”

“Well, of course I haven’t! I wouldn’t make a decision like this without talking to you about it first!”

The knot in my chest began unraveling. “Okay, then. If that’s what you want to do.”

“I’m glad we’ve got that sorted out.” He started chuckling. “The family will think she’s an old man’s last fling!”

“You’re not an old man, Tony!” I growled at him. I was willing to go along with it if that was what he wanted – I could see he was uncomfortable with letting the family know we shared a bed – but I didn’t like them thinking he was becoming senile.

He reached across and stroked my cheek, and from the corner of my eye I could see his smile. “All that matters to me is that you don’t think so.”

And all that mattered to me was the love that I heard in his voice.

“Let’s go home.”

Want and need began pooling in the pit of my stomach, and I stepped on the gas.

**

The four of us were in the breakfast room. Tony and I looked on with pride as his new daughter and my new niece chattered away.

“An’ I picked out that routine that Bugs and Daffy do on TV!” Sunday said around a mouthful of Frosted Flakes.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweet pea,” Cara instructed her.

“Sorry, Mommy. You’re coming to my recital, aren’t you, Uncle Bry?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. We’ll have flowers for you.”

“You will?” She looked enraptured. “Mommy, I’ll have flowers!”

“Of course, sweet pea. Have you finished your breakfast? Then go wash your hands and face. You don’t want to be late for Pre K.”

“Okay!” She hopped down off the chair and danced her way to the powder room. Tony and I were looking forward to seeing the little girl twirl her way across the stage.

“She’s going to be the twenty-first century’s Shirley Temple!”

“As long as she enjoys herself.”

“How’s the job hunting going?” Tony asked.

Cara had insisted on looking for a job, even though we could support her. She shrugged. “I have an interview at 10. We’ll see how it goes.”

“Well, if it doesn’t pan out, I can ask my friend Jerry if he has anything available.”

“Thank you, Bryan. I just might take you up on that.”

Sunday came dancing back into the room. “All ready, Mommy.”

“I’ll walk you to the car.” Tony put his napkin down and rose from the table.

Sunday came to me, holding her arms up. “Bye, Uncle Bry.”

“Have a good day, munchkin.” I gave her a gentle hug and a kiss on her cheek. It was nice having a child in the house, one who didn’t look at me as if I were a combination of the Grinch and the Big Bad Wolf.

“C’mon, Daddy.” She took Tony’s hand.

Cara scooped up Sunday’s Hello Kitty backpack and her own briefcase and called a quick, “Bye, Bryan!” as the three of them left the room.

I was about to refill our coffee cups when the phone rang. I recognized the number on the read out, smiled, and picked it up. “Casa Sebring.”

“Bryan, we’ve got trouble!”

I listened tensely as Jefferson gave me the details, then said, “I’ll make some calls, and we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

I had just hung up when Tony came sauntering in. “Do you have time for a little nap before you - ” He saw the expression on my face, and the teasing note in his voice immediately vanished. “What’s wrong?”

“Quinn’s been kidnapped. Some rogue organization in Europe has him.”

“What? Why?”

“No one seems to know. Other CIA officers have gone missing, and Quinn was sent to track them down, only- Jefferson’s contacted Ben Monroe and his team to go in and get him out.”

“I’ll start packing. Oh, hell. Cara Mia and Sunday!”

“They won’t be able to go.”

“Of course not. It would break Sunday’s heart if she had to miss that recital.” His lips tightened. I could see it was breaking his heart that he was going to miss it as well. “I’ll call Cara Mia.”

“I can get in touch with Cisco, have him stay with them.”

“John Cisco?”

“Yes. He’s settled in West Hollywood.”

“He’s a good man. That sleaze she was married to hasn’t turned up and they should be all right, but it might be a good idea if he kept an eye on them. Now, what about a flight?”

“I’ll take care of that. You go get us packed.” I knew someone who had a Lear jet. She could get us to DC in half the time it would take a commercial jet to do the distance. I picked up the phone and started to dial the first of the numbers I’d have to call.

**

“Thanks, Chili.” I shook the young woman’s hand, discreetly slipping the envelope with her fee into her palm.

“My pleasure, Mr. Sebring. Will you need me for the flight home?”

“I don’t know how long we’ll be staying here. We’ll probably catch a commercial flight back to LA.”

“Okay, then. I hope everything works out well for your nephew.”

“Thanks. Have a safe flight.”

She gave me a small salute and turned to stride jauntily back to see about the refueling of her jet.

“She’s very pretty.”

“Yes, although she wouldn’t thank you for saying that.” I extended the telescoping handle on my suitcase. “She’s always endeavored to be one of the boys.”

“She’s also very young.” Tony did the same, but he didn’t seem ready to leave the airport just yet.

“She’s thirty, and a very competent pilot.”

“She’s - ”

I got a look at his face. “Tony, are you jealous?”  

“Of course not. That’s idiotic. Why would I - ” His shoulders sagged. “Yes, I am.”

I bumped my shoulder against his. “Don’t be, big brother. I waited almost three quarters of my life for you. I’m not about to trade in what we have for anything or anyone!”

“Neither am I, little brother.” He draped his arm over my shoulder, and we began walking toward ground transportation where we’d find a taxi to take us to Great Falls.

**

Portia’s house was like an armed camp. She sat in stony silence, while, contrary to our usual care around our sister, Jeff swore in six languages and Gregor paced the room, every once in a while his ire escaping him in a torrent of Czech. Ludo emerged from the kitchen with a tray bearing a china teapot and cups, setting it down on the coffee table. 

“What’s going on?”

“Portia told Ben Monroe not to go.”

“Jefferson, I simply told him to hold off for a couple of days. It was going to take him a week as it was. What’s the fuss?”

“Yes, what is the fuss?”

“Oh, no, don’t you start, Bryan!”

“The fuss is that Mark Vincent is going in his place!”

“Vincent? How did the WBIS get involved in this?”

“They… uh…” Gregor sent a look toward Portia, and I wondered about that. “They lost some people too.”

“Tony, sit down.” I fixed a cup of tea the way he liked it and handed it to him. “Now drink this. It will sooth your choler.”

He scowled at me but sat down and took the cup.

“Now then. What, exactly, are we going to do?”

Portia met my eyes. “We’re going to wait twenty-four hours. That’s how long Mark Vincent assured me it would take.”

“Yeah, but Portia - ” Gregor started to protest.

“You all know his reputation. If anyone can get Quinton out of the hands of that madman, it will be him.”

“But if he doesn’t?”

She smiled, and I suddenly shivered. I’d never seen such a cold smile on my sister’s face.

**

We were sitting around the dining room table playing bridge for a penny a point, none of us winning, and Tony and I losing badly, since we couldn’t keep our minds on the cards.

“What time is it?”

“Ten minutes later than the last time you asked, Gregor.”

“Goddammit! Why is it taking Vincent so long to call?”

“Remember the time difference.”

“Fuck the time difference! Vincent keeps saying he’s the best, so why hasn’t he - ”

“Shhh. I hear Portia coming.”

She entered the room, her eyes a little red, but her lips curved in a smile.

“Quinton’s all right?”As the oldest, Tony spoke for us.

“He’s all right. He’ll be home within another twenty-four hours.”

“Y’see?” Gregor gave a decisive nod. “I knew it!”

“Yes, Gregor.”

“And he didn’t really need Vincent to get him out of it, did he?”

“He couldn’t go into details, but yes, I’m afraid he did.”

“Excuse me.” Gregor’s face was somewhat red, as if he were bottling his anger, and I wondered whether there was something beyond the fact that Vincent was a WBIS agent that disturbed him so much. “I’m going to make some coffee.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” I said.

Portia was still smiling, but she looked so worn it broke my heart.

We all followed Gregor into the kitchen that was more his than hers.

“Useless. We were absolutely fucking useless!”

No one said anything, and Gregor made no move to fill the stainless steel coffeepot with water or to grind the coffee beans.

Tony began first, swearing with a flare that would have stunned any who were unfamiliar with him. Jefferson picked up the litany of purple phrases, and then I, and finally Gregor.

Ludovic shook his head and began to get the coffee ready, but under his breath we could hear some very imaginative swearing, British style.

**

When we went to meet Quinton’s flight the next day, Portia was her usual exquisite self.

“There isn’t going to be enough room in the Town Car. Do you want to - ”

“I’ll drive,” Jeff said. “We’ll meet you in the main terminal at Dulles.”

“All right. Don’t have an accident getting there.”

“I’m cut to the quick! You know I’m a good driver, Portia!”

“I know you’ve wrecked any number of cars.”

“Not as many as that wild man in - ”

“Which wild man would that be, Jefferson?” Ludovic asked casually. “Bart Freeman?”

“Bart’s an excellent driver, and to my knowledge he’s never been in an accident.”

“Then who - ”

“That was a long time ago and in another country.”

Ludovic raised an eyebrow, and to my surprise, Jeff blushed.

“Ludo… I promise you I never slept with Six- with him!”

“You’re too handsome by half, Jefferson.”

“But you love me anyway, don’t you?”

“D’you think I’d still be with you if I didn’t?”

Jeff leaned toward him, and Portia cleared her throat.

“As reluctant as I am to disrupt such a tender moment, we really do need to be on our way.”

“Yes, Portia.”

Tony and I got in the back seat of Jeff’s Mercedes, and Tony settled himself comfortably, his legs spread and his knee pressing against mine. His arm rested on the back of the seat, and he drew idle patterns on the material covering my shoulder.

Ludovic slid into the front seat beside Jeff, who waited until Gregor backed out of the drive before putting the car in gear and following him.

The drive to Dulles was quiet, with none of us having much to say. Jeff found a parking space a few spots away from our sister’s Town Car in the hourly lot, and we all walked into the main terminal.

“We’re going to wait in Harry’s Tap Room, Portia,” Tony announced. We were?

“Why?”

“We… uh… we thought you might like a little time alone with Quinn.”

“Well… thank you.”

Gregor glared at us. “I’m going with you, Portia.”

“Of course, Gregor.” She gave us a final, puzzled glance before turning to walk to the gate for Air France.

“Harry’s Tap Room, big brother?”

He shrugged. “I need a drink.”

Harry’s Tap Room was crowded that time of day, but we managed to find an empty table. “I’ll get this round,” I said. “Your usual, gentlemen?”

They nodded, and I made my way across the room.

I spoke to the bartender, then leaned against the bar and looked back at the table where my brothers sat as he filled my order. Sebrings tended to age well, the fair hair fading not to gray but to an almost pure white. Jeff was fiddling with something on the table, while Tony sat back, watching me with hooded eyes.

Neither of them noticed the looks they were attracting.

A tall, astonishingly beautiful woman came to stand beside me, drawing my attention. She was dressed in a black pantsuit that showed off her voluptuous figure, a billed cap perched jauntily on her dark hair.

“Johnnie Walker Red on the rocks, please.” Her voice was low and husky.

My order was left half-filled as the bartender hurried to fill her request. “Picking up or dropping off, Ms. G.?”

“Dropping off, and I’m glad to see the back of her. Talk about a spoiled witch!”

“That’s the way it goes sometimes.”

“You’ve got that right! All I want now is a drink and a quick bite, and then I’m going home, taking a hot bath, and sleeping for a week.”

“The shrimp po’boy is always good. Here you go.”

“Thanks, Hank.” She picked up the glass and took a healthy swallow, then swirled the ice cubes in her drink.

“Sorry for the delay, sir.” The bartender set the drinks in front of me.

“Not a problem.” I handed him a couple of bills and started to gather the glasses.

“I’ll help you, Bryan.” Tony was suddenly at my side, giving the woman the cool stare that had made the younger men under him swallow and tug on their collars. This woman simply raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth curling in a grin, and turned away.

I grew hard. I shouldn’t have, we were in a public place, after all, but the realization that he was willing to fight for me… 

“Thanks, big brother.” I let him take the glasses that held our Scotch, and he followed me back to our table. It was almost as if he were placing himself between the rest of the room and me.

I handed Jeff and Ludovic their drinks before sitting down. Beneath the table, Tony’s knee pressed against mine. He belonged to me, beyond the ties of blood, just as I belonged to him, and no matter what the future might hold, we would be together in it.

“Will you be coming out to stay at Shadow Brook for a few days?” Jeff asked, startling me out of my reverie.

“Not this time. I think we’d better go home,” Tony murmured as he sipped his Chivas Regal. His leg continued to brush against mine.

“In a rush to get back to your bride?”

“Cara Mia is a very nice young woman,” Tony said mildly.

“Young being the key word! I’m really surprised at you, Tony. You’re almost three times her age!”

“He’s not!” I wanted to punch Jeff in the nose. I knew this was going to happen.

“You’re in a mood, Jefferson.” Under the table Tony squeezed my knee.

Ludovic reached across the table and touched Jeff’s arm. “What is it, pet?”

Jeff sighed heavily. “I feel like shit.”

“Why is that?”

“It was my idea for Quinn to apply to the CIA.”

“Well, if it comes to that, I encouraged him as well,” I told him. “I feel pretty awful myself.”

“What about you, Anthony?”

“He of the three of us has no reason to feel guilty!”

Tony’s smile was tired, and he toyed with his drink. “If I hadn’t been dealing with a crisis at the time and the two of you hadn’t stolen a march on me, Quinton would be sitting in my office now. In which case he wouldn’t have been required to go to Paris, and he wouldn’t have been kidnapped.” He was silent for a moment, then admitted, “But yes, I feel just as guilty.”

This time we all sighed.

**

Quinn, looking worn to the bone but in one piece, was safely back in his townhouse.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t stay with him, Portia?”

“I’m sure.” She smiled at our oldest brother. “A friend will be staying with him.”

“But - ”

“He doesn’t want to be fussed, Tony. Now go back to Great Falls. Gregor and I will meet you there.”

We got back into Jeff’s car. “So Quinn’s got someone.”

“It sounds like it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, Jeff?”

“Me?! This is the first I’ve heard of it!”

“Well, keep an ear open and be sure to let us know what happens. It would be nice to see our nephew settling down with someone he cares about.”

“What about you, Bry?”

“What about me?”

“Have you gotten over Johanna yet?”

“Lord, yes, ages ago!”

“I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?”

“You’re without someone to love in your life.”

“I’ve got my family.”

Tony began to choke, and I pounded his back, biting back a smile.

“You okay, big brother?” Jeff asked, glancing in the rearview mirror.

“Enough, enough, Bryan! Yes. I’m fine.”

“You know what? You’re coming East to ring in the New Year this year. I’ll see if I can invite some ladies to tempt your jaded palate.”

It was my turn to start choking. “Jaded? Me? My reputation has been sadly maligned!”

“Face it, Bryan. Jeff has your number. You’re a regular Don Juan.”

“I’ll show you who’s a Don Juan!” I whispered.

Tony turned his head to look out the window, but not before he whispered in turn, “I look forward to it, little brother!”

**

We returned to our home in LA to find the security system on the house fully armed. Cara Mia and Cisco were in the room we had designated Sunday’s playroom. It contained a child-sized table and chairs, just right for tea parties, as well as a tiny baker’s rack that held the china teapot and cups and saucers.  There was also a miniature loveseat and a toy chest filled to the brim with everything we thought a little girl might enjoy.

However, while Sunday played with her My Little Pony Dream Castle Playset, Cara Mia sat perched on the loveseat, pale and frightened, and Cisco stood by the French doors, with his arms folded across his chest, looking grim.

His expression lightened when he saw us. “Mr. Mann is okay?”

“Yes.”

“Glad to hear that.”

Sunday jumped to her feet when she saw us. “Daddy! Uncle Bryan!”

“Hello, little one.” Tony stroked her hair.

I stooped down and scooped her up, kissing her cheek. “Hi, munchkin.”

“Look what Uncle John bought me!”

Cisco turned red. “It’s just a couple of Ponies.”

“They have wings! Down, please, Uncle Bryan.”

I put her down and she went back to playing with the colorful plastic figures.

“All right, suppose you tell us what’s happened?”

Cisco glanced down at Sunday and nodded toward the door. Once we were out in the hallway, he said, “Cara spotted someone she really had no desire to see again in this life.”

“Her ex-husband?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he see her?”

“Yeah.”

“Dammit. When?”

“On Monday, when she took Sunday to Pre-K. He started to approach them, then backed off when he saw I was with them.”

“Tony, what am I going to do?” We looked around to see Cara Mia standing there.

“Nothing, my dear.” Tony rested a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll do whatever needs to be done.”

“I’m willing to help out in any way I can, Mr. Sebring.”

“I think it might be a good idea if you stay here, Cisco. We have plenty of room in this house, but if you’d prefer privacy, the guest house out back is in good shape.” I’d read the reports about Adam ’Nme, and he was a nasty piece of work even when he wasn’t high on cocaine. As competent as my older brother was, I’d feel more comfortable with someone else staying in the house also when I wasn’t there.

Tony gazed at me thoughtfully, and tension swept through me. Was he going to challenge me on this?

“All right.”

I blew out a breath in relief. “All right. Now, then - ”

Chapter 4

Fall had arrived once more, and soon the holidays would be on the horizon.

CIA’s second season opener, the conclusion to the previous season’s cliffhanger finale, had premiered a few weeks before, and the ratings were so good there was talk that season three was already locked in, with a guaranteed twenty-six episodes.

I was in my office on the set when my cell phone rang. It was Tony. He’d still been sleeping when I’d left, and sometimes when that happened, he would call me just to wish me a good morning. He might have been stubborn about us having a relationship that was more than familial when I was 18, but he was making up for it now with a vengeance.

“Good morning, big brother,” I said. I couldn’t keep the caress out of my voice, but that was okay, I was alone.

“Bry, we have visitors.” His tone was curt. “Quinton and Gregor.”

All thought of a discreet flirtation left my mind. “What’s wrong?” After what had happened earlier in the spring, and as much as I enjoyed seeing my nephew and the man who was my sister’s bodyguard, I started imagining the worst.

“Everyone is fine,” he hastened to assure me. “I don’t want to talk about it over the phone. Can you come home?”

“I’m on my way.”

“We’ll be in the dining room,” he informed me, which was a good thing. It was a large house on a fairly large piece of property, and they could have been anywhere.

I notified the woman who had been kind enough to tell me she was my secretary when I’d started working for ‘CIA’ that I was leaving early because family had flown in unexpectedly from the East Coast.

“Very good, Bryan.” Things were relaxed in LA, and from the beginning she’d called me by my first name. “Have a nice visit.”

Traffic in LA was horrendous, and Tony refused to drive in it, so I was the designated driver. I’d learned the surface streets and shortcuts, but even so, it took me three quarters of an hour to get home, and it was after noon when I pulled into the drive.

A rental was parked there, and I left the little sports car I’d brought out with us parked next to it. My hip was reacting well for the most part to the balmy California weather, and I ran into the house.

I went through to the room that looked out onto a small rose garden.

“Uncle Bryan.” Quinn rose from his seat.

“Quinton. It’s good to see you.” I hugged him. I hadn’t seen him since the holidays the previous winter. “Gregor.” I hugged him too.

“What’s going on?”

“This involves the Company, Bry.” Tony offered me a bowl of sliced fruit. “We’ve already eaten.” The remains of a light lunch were on the table.

Since coming to California, he’d gotten into the habit of having that for lunch, and I often teased him about it – grapes, citrus wedges, apples, pears, strawberries, and honeydew, cantaloupe, and watermelon, with shredded coconut topping it all. ‘I need all the benefits a healthy diet can give me, Bryan. I’ve got a young lover to keep up with.’

“Thanks.” I put a strawberry into my mouth, holding onto the stem and pulling gently, and I happened to catch my brother’s eyes on my lips. I grinned at him, and he winked. “Don’t tell me the Pres has gotten a brain and is ousting Holmes?”

“No such luck, but Holmes is involved,” Gregor snarled.

I turned to my nephew. “Quinn, you said you didn’t have to deal with him on a day-to-day basis.”

“Things change.”

“Since the incident with Prinzip.” A scowl darkened Gregor’s features. His gesture toward Quinn was, ‘you tell him, this is your organization.’

“Yes. Ever since last spring…” Quinn ran a hand through his hair. “Holmes put Operational Targeting under his personal aegis. He’s been sending me on a lot of useless assignments.”

“Passive-aggressive. That always was Holmes’ middle name.”

“That wasn’t the problem.” He shrugged, waving it aside. “We get assignments like that - ”

“Not when Bryan was analyzing the data!”

“No, Uncle Tony. That’s true. I’ve been sent on so many wild goose chases lately… And now there’s something else. Gregor?”

Gregor reached into his suit jacket and withdrew a small, sleek cell phone.

“That was my phone. I haven’t been sleeping well since the middle of July,” he explained, “and it was getting increasingly worse. The nightmares… I thought it was post traumatic stress from the kidnapping, but someone - ”

Gregor snorted and glared at Quinton.

“- suggested that this phone might have been tampered with.”

“And it has been?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea who might have done it?”

Quinn’s expression became bleak. “I realized the only time I didn’t have it on me was when I was at Langley.”

Tony and I both swore. “Holmes?”

“With everything that was going on… I have to assume so.”

Gregor nodded, looking grim. “I had it checked out. Something was planted in it.”

“I couldn’t ask around at the Company – I couldn’t trust anyone, not Syd, not Lyn, not even DB.”

I exchanged glances with my brother. DB Cooper was a friend, and Syd and Lyn had worked under Quinn for years. It must have destroyed him not to be able to trust them.

“What about this ‘someone’ who discovered the problem?” Since I was the one who had worked for the Company, Tony let me do the talking. “Assuming he or she isn’t CIA…”

“Definitely not CIA.” Gregor growled. “And definitely not she.”

Quinn ignored him. “This friend is a ‘he.’”

“Friend...” Gregor make a rude sound.

A faint frown line appeared between Quinn’s brows, but his gaze remained steadfast on mine. “He would have looked into it himself, but there would have been a serious conflict of interest.”

Tony’s eyebrow climbed, but he said nothing. I waited to hear what else Quinn had to say, but Gregor spoke first.

“Not the FBI, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he snapped. “What division, which isn’t even supposed to be an entity, is in such keen competition with the CIA?”

“The Washington Bureau of Intelligence and Security?”

“The WBIS. Give the man a cigar.”

“Gregor…”

“Could he have done it then, this… friend of yours – sabotaged your phone?”

Quinn’s mouth took a stubborn twist. “No. He would have no reason to do that to me.”

“‘No reason,’ my ass.” Gregor could be just as stubborn. “Does Vincent ever need a reason to do anything?”

“Mark Vincent?” I kept my voice noncommittal.

“Oh, please, Uncle Bryan. Don’t try to tell me that Mother hasn’t mentioned that I’ve been seeing Mark. That for a time he was living in my townhouse.”

“No, she hasn’t,” I said mildly.

“Oh.” He flushed and subsided.

It was Gregor who had called with the news, rabid that Quinn was involved with the senior WBIS agent, and impotent because there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if that bastard even planned the whole kidnapping thing just to get close to Quinn!’ he’d ranted.

After hearing that, both Tony and I had looked into it, using resources we had acquired over the years. We’d been reassured that Vincent had no connections to Prinzip and had nothing to do with our nephew’s kidnapping by the rogue organization.

“Gregor is just… irritated… because Mark managed to get around the security system at Mother’s house twice.”

Yes, that would irritate the former FBI agent.

“I had Callahan in Security upgrade everything,” Quinn went on to say.

“He’s a good man, and his team is the best the Company has to offer. We won’t need to be concerned for your mother’s safety.”

Novotny ground his teeth together. “The only thing that would keep me unconcerned is seeing Vincent with a bullet between his eyes! Or better yet, putting one there myself!”

“Gregor, that’s enough.” Quinn had turned pale. “That was part of the nightmares.”

Novotny had the grace to look abashed.

“All right.” Tony stepped in. “What does all this have to do with your nightmares, Quinn?”

“Mark saw something when I was using my cell phone – a miniscule flashing green light. I never noticed it.” It was easy to see he was upset with himself.

Novotny patted his shoulder. “It isn’t likely you would. Watch.” He opened the phone, tapped in the code to retrieve messages, and held it to his ear, turning so we could see the light. Then he closed the phone, and the light went out. “It does the same thing whether a call is sent or received.”

“Son of a bitch! Subliminal messages?”

They stared at me, surprised.

“There were rumors of something like that going around for years; it was Hazelton’s pet project.” Hazelton had been the DCI before Holmes, and there was no love lost between the former Director and the present one. “I left before anything workable had been developed, and I was sure that with Holmes as Director, it would be cancelled.”

“Well, shit. I could have asked you.” Novotny was disgruntled.

“You had fun looking into this, though. Admit it.”

He grinned reluctantly. “Yeah, I did. Because of the not-getting-in-touch-with-anyone-from-the-CIA thing, I got to use some of my old sources. They enjoyed exercising their chops again too.”

“So what’s the story? It all comes back to Holmes?”

“Yes.”

Tony ran a hand through his hair, and I wondered if Quinn had picked that up from him. “You’ll need a new cell phone, Quinn.”

He took one from his pocket. “Mark insisted on it as soon as he realized there was a problem with the old one.”

“You were together.” It wasn’t a question.

He sighed. “Are you going to give me a hard time over him too? Gregor never lets up.”

“He’s Vincent, Quinn!” Novotny’s tone was pained.

“Look…”

Tony cleared his throat. “I think we have more important things to discuss right now than your respective feelings about Mark Vincent. You’re staying overnight, aren’t you?”

“There’s no need for us to put you out.”

“The only way you’ll put us out is by not staying with us.”

“Tony’s right. You haven’t been able to come out here. Wait until you see what he’s done with the bedrooms on the second floor.”

Tony peered at him from beneath his brows. “If you don’t stay, Cara Mia is going to feel as if the family is avoiding her. Your mother is the only one who came to meet her, and that was months ago.”

“And besides, you haven’t met Sunday yet. She’s already got the two of us wrapped around her little finger.”

“When you put it like that…”

“I’ll get our carry-ons from the rental.”

“Thanks, Gregor.” Quinn waited until he left. “Are you two all right with me being involved with another man?”

I looked to Tony, and he smiled and spoke for both of us. “Quinn, as your former colleagues, it isn’t any of our business who you choose to… be involved with, but as your uncles, we are pleased that the man you’ve chosen is capable of watching your back in a sticky situation.”

“I never expected to…” He gave a small, rueful smile. “… be involved with someone like him, you know. I… like him.”

Tony opened his mouth just as Novotny returned with the carry-ons. “Bryan, why don’t you make reservations for us for dinner at Chez Henri?”

“For around 8?” Knowing him as well as I did, I knew that what he’d said was not what he’d intended to say.

“Does that sound good?” When Quinn nodded, Tony continued, “All right. I’ll call Cara and let her know. She’s taken Sunday out shopping for a Halloween costume.” He lowered his voice. “Cisco’s gone with them.”

I nodded and glanced at our guests. Quinn’s expression was blank. Gregor had apparently found something fascinating about their luggage. The family was unsure what to think of Cara Mia and her four-year-old daughter.

“We’ll need to get a sitter for Sunday. She’s very well-behaved, but that’s too late for her.”

“Cisco should be available. He loves sitting for Sunday.”

“John Cisco?” Gregor started to laugh. “Who’d have thought?”

“All right, that ties up that loose end. Now I’ll show you to your rooms. There’s a Jack-and-Jill bath between. Bryan and I put that in ourselves, and I expect you to be suitably impressed…”

I watched them as they climbed the curving staircase that led to the second floor and considered the information we’d just been given. Not only was our nephew bisexual, but the man he was involved with was dangerous in the extreme.

Vincent was no longer in the field, but when he had been, he’d had a reputation for being like the Shadow, appearing out of nowhere, and vanishing just as quickly. I thought of the KGB agent who had actually broken down into tears when he’d learned that Vincent was targeting the man he’d been assigned to transport from Ho Chi Minh City to Moscow. The man had turned up floating in the Mekong River, and the agent had defected.

Tony was right. Having a man of Vincent’s caliber watching our nephew’s back was a good thing. I wondered if we would get to meet him.

Maybe it would be soon.

I went to make the phone call to Chez Henri.

**

It was just after lunch the next day, and Quinn and Novotny were about to leave to catch their flight out of LAX.

“Tony and I will put our heads together and see if we can come up with a means of persuading Holmes to hassle another of his officers.” The four of us had spent the previous evening trying to come up with something, but Holmes had some powerful men backing him, including a senator from the Mid West, and beyond the tempting idea of shooting him, it had been to no avail. “In the meantime, try to make it appear as if his little plan is working.”

“Will do, Uncle Bryan. I told Mark I’d do that. Which reminds me. Would you like to come to Alexandria for Thanksgiving? Mother will be joining us.”

“Us?”

“Mark and I. He’s just bought a condo, and…”

Novotny groaned but kept his mouth shut.

“Thank you, but with Cara Mia and Sunday here…”

“Oh, they’re invited too. You’re right, she is a sweetheart.” He didn’t say anything about Cara Mia, however. “Look, give it some thought, all right?”

“All right, Quinn. We will. Have a safe flight back.”

We stood watching as they got into the rental and drove off, then closed the door.

“What do you think, little brother?” Tony asked as we strolled into the room that would eventually become our library.

“I don’t know. We need something to nail the bastard. The problem is, he’s careful. They used to call him the Rubber Man.”

“Why? Oh, because everything bounced off him?”

“Yes. Well, I have a few people who are still in the loop. I’ll contact them and see what they know.”

“Good idea.” He crossed to the French doors that opened out onto the backyard and gazed at the area where I worked sporadically on a koi pond.

For a moment I allowed myself to drink in his figure, but then he turned and caught me staring, and he grinned at me.

I flushed a little but grinned back at him, then picked up the phone and dialed the various numbers from memory. None of them seemed to be home, so I left the same message with each one, along with my phone number. “This is Bryan Sebring. I need some help with a family problem. Give me a call. If you’re interested, we can discuss it.”

“I guess that’s all we can do for now.” Tony glanced around the room. “We’ve got some time before Cara Mia and Sunday come home.” Cisco had taken them to the zoo, and when they returned, we were going to grill hotdogs and hamburgers.

Sunday had promised to model her Halloween costume, Ariel, the Little Mermaid.

I’d never had the opportunity to take my stepchildren trick-or-treating – Johanna didn’t believe in it – and I was looking forward to finally doing that. I was going to go as a Ghostbuster, complete with a proton pack, particle thrower, and flipdown ecto-visor. Sunday had gotten a big kick out of it. I’d thought Tony would laugh when I tried on my costume for him, but instead he’d flushed, ripped open the fly of the jump suit, pushed me back onto the bed, and fellated me.

I grew hot at the memory.

“What do you want to do?”

“Well, we could do some work on this room.”

“Yes.” He smiled and waited to hear what else I had to offer.

“Or… We could go upstairs and lie down for a while.” I waggled my eyebrows at him. “No one would think anything of two men our age taking a nap.”

“Little brother, I like the way you think!” He linked his arm in mine, and we went up the stairs to our bedroom.

**

The next day was a beautiful day, the kind they write songs about – the air so soft and balmy you could get drunk just from breathing it in.

We woke early – the man could be taken out of the government agency, but the government agency couldn’t be taken out of the man – and drove to a little place that only opened for breakfast on the weekend. During the week we breakfasted with Cara Mia and Sunday, and Cisco when he was in town, but the first day of the week was for us alone.

Once we returned home, Tony took all the newspapers that we subscribed to. “Give some thought as to what you’d like for dinner, all right, little brother?” And he retreated to the study.

I looked after him fondly, then trotted up the stairs to our room to put on a pair of worn jeans that were perfect for yard work. I was setting up a waterfall for the pond out back that would be stocked with koi once it was finished.

The phone rang a couple of times, but stopped before I could pick it up, and I assumed that Tony had gotten it.

“Bryan!”

I’d never heard that tone in his voice before. The jeans left unbuttoned, I bolted out of our room and ran down the stairs. “What is it?”

Tony stood at the study’s doorway, shaking and looking pale, and I was afraid he was having a heart attack.

“What’s wrong?”

“Quinn’s on the line. Portia’s been in an accident.”

I felt my stomach twist. “How is she?”

“She needed to be operated on.”

“How is she?”

“I don’t know. She’s in recovery.” Blindly, he handed me the phone, and I pushed him toward an armchair. He sank into it and buried his head in his hands. I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed, offering what comfort I could, and he rubbed his cheek against it. His cheek was damp.

“Quinn, what’s going on?”

“Uncle Bryan. I’m sorry…” His voice was hoarse. It cracked, and he cleared it and started again. “Mother came through the surgery all right, but she still hasn’t regained consciousness.”

“What happened?”

“Gregor was driving her home from the embassy ball last night. It was raining. Someone rear-ended my car…”

“Your car, Quinn?”

“The tires on Mother’s Town Car had been slashed. I had an alternate means of getting home, so…”

“So you gave your Lexus to your mother, and your car was rear-ended.” My mind was racing over the possibilities. Had it been an accident, or had it been deliberate? And if it was deliberate, who had been the target?

“Yes. Gregor has some minor injuries, but Mother… her ribs are badly bruised, her hip was fractured, and her spleen had to be removed; it was torn. The anesthesia has worn off, but she’s still unconscious. I…” His voice shook, and he drew a deep breath. “I don’t know how long she’ll be like that.”

“What hospital is she in?”

“George Washington.”

“Tony and I will be there as soon as we can get a flight. Have you gotten in touch with Jeff?”

“Yes. He and Ludo got here a short time ago. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner…”

“Don’t worry about it. Will you be all right?”

“Yes. I… Vincent was with me. Yes.”

“Good. Hang in there. We’re on our way.” I hung up.

“Bryan?” Tony’s color was better now, but he was still a little gray. Portia was the baby of the family, and we all loved her. I reached for him, and he wrapped his arms around my waist, his cheek against my open fly, and held on.

“She’ll be all right, big brother. She’s in the hospital, and that’s the best place for her right now.”

“We have to get there.”

“Yes.” I’d contact Chili. I knew she was in town, having recently called on her for some backup information about Lear jets for the show. “Can you go upstairs and pack for us?”

He nodded.

I ran my hand over his hair. “She will be all right, I promise you. She’s stronger than you ever gave her credit for.”

“I know. It’s just…”

“I understand. You’ve always been the big brother.” I tipped his chin up and kissed him. “Don’t forget it’s fall back east. Pack appropriately.” As I’d hoped, that made him smile.

“I will.” He rose, straightened his shoulders, and headed for the door to the hallway. He paused just inside it. “Cara Mia…”

I stared down at myself, aghast to recall the front of my jeans were gapping open. Hurriedly I secured the button fly. “Let her know that we’ll be out of town and to stay alert.” I’d call Cisco as well.

Tony nodded and left the room.

I made the phone calls and followed him upstairs. He’d laid out trousers and a sweater for me to change into.

“Thanks, big brother.”

He squeezed my shoulder and finished packing. In minutes we were on the way to LAX, and a few hours later, we landed at Dulles.

**

Two days, and there was still no discernible change in our sister’s condition. She had been transferred from recovery to a private hospital room on the 6^th floor. She looked so tiny and frail in that bed.

Vases of flowers were on every flat surface of the room, including the floor. Bunches of balloons floated against the ceiling. The cards indicated they were from friends, colleagues, and the organizations to which Portia belonged. So many people called that I’d made arrangements for an answering service to field the calls.

“We can’t expect the hospital to deal with them,” I told my nephew and my brothers.

Tony and I sat at our sister’s bedside. The doctors, who were optimistic, suggested we talk to her, and so that was what we did – talked of our experiences when we were young, talked of holidays with the family, talked of operations that had succeeded. We made no mention of those that had failed.

Quinn had been napping on the cot the nurses had brought in for him the first night. He was awake now, although his eyes were still tired. He sat beside the bed, holding his mother’s hand, and we listened as he told her about a dog whose love for his young mistress was so great that he rescued her, even from beyond the grave.

“Mark told me that story, Mother.” He blushed, a small smile on his face.

I glanced at Tony, my eyebrow raised, and he shrugged. He couldn’t see anything in the story to blush about either.

Quinn spoke to her about going whale watching up on Cape Cod with Vincent, going to see The Phantom of the Opera, playing Monopoly on the weekend.

“Six boxcars in a row, Mother!”

Tony and I exchanged glances. We’d never seen him so… enthralled with anyone.

I kept expecting Vincent to turn up, if only for a minute or so, but he didn’t, and I hoped Quinn hadn’t set himself up to be hurt.

“I’m a little surprised not to see Vincent here,” I said.

“He was here right after Mother was brought in.”

“But since then…?”

Quinn’s expression was closed. “He has things to do.”

“Of course.” I wasn’t going to ask him what kind of things. Vincent was in the intelligence community, just as we had been. As much as I wanted to think that being there for my nephew was more important to him than anything else that might come up, I knew that wasn’t realistic. Especially now that to all intents and purposes he was Director of Interior Affairs. There would be other demands on his time.

Jeff and Ludo walked in. They had been visiting Novotny, whose room was a couple of floors down.

“Any change?” Jeff  asked.

“In the last half hour? No. How’s Novotny doing?”

“He’s driving the nurses crazy. He’s being discharged tomorrow, and I don’t know who’ll be happier, him or them.” Jeff’s laugh was rueful. “Ludo and I are going for something to eat. The cafeteria is closed now, but the nurse on Novotny’s floor mentioned a deli a couple of blocks over. It’s open until all hours. The interns and residents and anyone pulling a double shift go there for a sandwich or a snack. Why don’t you come with us?”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Tony and I got to our feet. “Quinn?”

“You go ahead. I’d like to stay with Mother.”

“All right. We’ll bring something back for you.”

“No, thanks. I’m really not hungry.”

“Quinn, you can’t let yourself get run down.”

“I won’t; I promise.”

Tony and I exchanged glances, and then I said, “All right.”

The elevator was at the end of the hall. We entered it, and as I turned to face the front of the car, the door to the stairwell opened. A tall, dark-haired man stepped out. Was that…

“Come on, Bryan, you’re blocking the door.”

I backed up a step, and the doors slid closed. Had that been Vincent? I opened my mouth to say something, but then Jeff spoke, and all thoughts of Vincent left my head.

“How long do we let Portia stay like this before we bring in the big guns?”

“There are some fine doctors in this hospital with impressive credentials,” Ludo remarked.

“Not impressive enough.” Tony drummed his fingers against his thigh.

“Shouldn’t Quinton be the one to decide?” Ludo met our eyes steadfastly.

“Yes…” Tony’s lips were in a thin line. “… I imagine you’re right. Still…”

“She’s bounced  back from everything: that miscarriage, Nigel’s death, Quinn’s kidnapping. What’s taking her so long now?” Jeff’s demanded irritably.

“It destroys me to see her like this, and not be able to do anything about it.”

I wanted to hold Tony, but of course I didn’t.

The elevator came to a stop on the lobby level, and we walked out into the October night. Although traffic wasn’t as heavy as during the day, cars were still out in a good number. We stood at the corner, waiting for the light to change, then jogged across 23^rd Street instead when there was a break in traffic.

It was after midnight, and the Foggy Bottom Deli was fairly deserted. We made our selections, various desserts and coffee. The tea wasn’t something we were willing to touch, no doubt having been made with teabags.

“I want to find out who is responsible for this, and I want them dead,” Tony growled as we set our trays down on a table. He pinned each of us with a fierce scowl.

Jeff returned his scowl. “Don’t tell me you’re expecting an argument from me, Anthony. As soon as we learn who’s behind it, I’ll be going after them.”

“You’re both talking like a couple of hot heads.”

They stared in surprise at Ludovic. Even though he’d been with Jeff for so long, he very rarely voiced opinions in family matters, and now he’d done so twice.

“She’s not your sister, Ludovic,” Jeff snapped, and Ludo turned pale.

“That was uncalled for,” I murmured.

He spun in his seat to glare at me. “Who asked you?”

“You’re my brother, Jeff, not my lover. Seeing you in a temper doesn’t bother me.”

Tony kicked my ankle under the table, and I gave him my most innocent smile. I sliced into the double chocolate triple layer cake, knowing it would irritate my middle brother even further.

“Yes, well - ”

“Why don’t you wait to hear what Ludo has to say before you jump down his throat?”

Jeff turned his glare on his lover, but Ludo matched it with one of his own. “Portia is as good as my own flesh and blood, Jefferson.”

I wasn’t surprised when Jeff subsided and muttered, “Sorry, Ludo.”

“And so you should be. Prat. Portia was kind to me from the first moment we met, back when she made her come-out, and I had to bend her ear with that painful stutter. And when you were so involved with that blond slut, she…”

Jeff flushed. “You knew about Bart?”

“I’m not daft, you know. Of course I knew about him. Every time he turned up, you would disappear, and when you came back, you’d be smelling of his aftershave and looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

And now Jeff turned pale.

Ludo glanced around and lowered his voice. “I’d… I’d do my best to make you forget him, but six months or a year later he’d turn up, and it was as if I didn’t exist.”

I remembered those days. Jeff didn’t work in my division, but I’d run into him occasionally.

‘Bart Freeman’s in town,’ he’d tell me. ‘I’m off to spend the weekend with him!’

‘What about Ludo?’ I’d been mildly envious but not surprised when my brother had introduced me to Ludovic Rivenhall. Ludo had just been assigned to the British Embassy in DC. He was good-looking, with a cool façade that gave no hint of what might lie beneath the surface.

I’d seen the way Ludo looked at my brother and marveled that Jeff appeared oblivious to it. I’d grieved because at the time I thought there would never be anyone to look at me that way.

Ludo had his own apartment in Dupont Circle, but Jeff was there so frequently he might as well have set up housekeeping with him.

‘We’re not exclusive. Besides, he thinks I’ll be out of town on Company business. He’ll never know.’ He’d grinned and left the building, his step jaunty.

I liked Ludo, and I was sorry to think he wasn’t Jeff’s one true love, but if that was the way it was, that was the way it was. I never said anything.

I had been surprised when Jeff brought Ludovic to our brother-in-law’s funeral and I’d seen the matching rings. I’d wondered what had caused things to change, but of course I never asked.

“Oh, god, Ludo, I didn’t realize!”

“Of course you didn’t. You were so bloody single-minded in those days, Jefferson. If I’d known you Sebrings only love once, I doubt I would have made that pass at you. I was at the point of giving up and breaking it off with you.”

“You… you would have left me?” Jeff looked as if he’d been kicked in the gut. I’d never seen an expression like that on his face. “But…”

“I crossed paths with Portia one noontime, and she saw how miserable I was. She invited me to luncheon at this little place she knew that was like a bit of home. I found myself pouring out the whole story to her. She was quite put out with you, luv, and told me that if I… if I loved you, I should bloody well make sure you knew it.”

Jeff’s eyes widened as he seemed to recall something about that time. He flushed a dark red, stretched his hand across the table, and caught Ludo’s hand.

“Sweetheart, I couldn’t have lived without you! I’m so sorry.”

“Well, we sorted it out, didn’t we? And I was even able to be civil to that… to Mr. Freeman when he saved your life that time.” Ludo squeezed Jeff’s hand, then released it and picked up his fork. “Now, what I was about to say is that I want to see whoever has done this to Portia punished, but I don’t want it over quickly. You know the saying about revenge being a dish best served cold. I want them to wake up in the small hours of the morning, years from now, ruing the day their parents had met.” 

“That would work for me.” I raised a bite of the chocolate cake to my mouth, and paused. “What did you have in mind?”

**

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” One of the deli workers stopped by our table. “We’ll be closing in fifteen minutes.”

Tony looked at his watch. “Sorry. We didn’t realize the time. We just need to get a sandwich to go.” A simple look between us had settled the fact that no matter what our nephew had decided, as his seniors, we’d overrule him.

“Sure. We’re just starting to put things away. What would you like?”

“A roast beef sandwich?” He looked to me.

“Yes. Quinn will like that. You get it, Tony. We’ll clear off the table.”

When we got out of the elevator on the 6^th floor, it was to see Quinn coming toward us. He had the strangest look on his face, and immediately I feared the worst.

But then he saw us and smiled. “I was just coming to try to find you. Mother regained consciousness about forty-five minutes ago.”

We rushed to her room, only to find her sleeping soundly.

“Quinn?”

“She was complaining of pain, so the nurse gave her something for it.”

“What? Portia never complains!”

His smile broadened, and he shrugged. “I have a feeling she said that just to get me out of the room so she could talk to Mark.” There was something in Quinn’s eyes when he said the man’s name. “He was here.”

“Did your mother have another visitor?”

“Excuse me?”

Jeff nodded at the bunch of violets at her bedside.

“Oh, no. Mark brought them.”

“He did?”

“He ran into Folana Fournaise…”

Tony frowned. “Isn’t she supposed to be dead?”

“… and she gave them to him to give to Mother. Apparently too many organizations wanted her dead, and so she obliged them.”

“What is she doing here in the States?”

The corner of Jeff’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “Somehow she always knew whenever something momentous was going on in Portia’s life, and she’s always sent violets.”

“Well, she’s done more than send flowers this time. According to Mark, she’s taken care of Mrs. Wexler…”

“What?” Now Jeff seemed stunned.

“… who was the one who had the tires of Mother’s Town Car slashed.”

“The Senator’s wife?” I was floored. How had she gotten involved with this?

“Yes. Folana apparently showed her what happened when you endangered her friends. She must have broken every bone in Mrs. Wexler’s face.”

“With her kongo? Yes, she would,” Jeff agreed after a moment’s thought. “She doesn’t have very many friends, and she’s… fond of Portia.”

“She would be if she were willing to break cover for her,” I murmured. “As for Elizabeth Wexler, I don’t understand why she would do something like that to Portia. I know she and Portia are on a number of committees together, and I thought they were… perhaps not bosom buddies, but - ” I shook my head.

“Well, Uncle Bryan, it seems Senator Wexler had a little plan, and Mrs. Wexler got wind of it.”

That didn’t sound good. “What was his plan?”

“He intended to make Mother the second Mrs. Wexler.”

“I can understand that irritating the first Mrs. Wexler. However, she took her irritation out on the wrong person.”

“Yes.”

“So Elizabeth Wexler is responsible for your mother’s car being disabled?”

Quinn nodded. “And Senator Wexler is behind the accident to my car. Mother wasn’t supposed to be in it; I was.”

We all swore.

“How did you find out about this?”

“Mark persuaded Peter Lapin to talk.”

“Who’s Lapin?”

“He was the Senator’s aide.”

Tony stroked his chin. “Vincent’s been a busy boy.”

Quinn stiffened, and I wondered what had disturbed him.

Tony didn’t notice, however. He continued. “He’s learned a good deal.”

“Mind if I ask how he managed to get Lapin to talk?” I had a feeling there was more to it than that.

“He didn’t say.” A small smile played about Quinn’s lips. He was relaxed now, and I wondered about that too.

I had an even stronger feeling that our nephew knew more than he was telling us.

“We’ll want to talk to Lapin.” Tony was looking grim.

“That won’t be possible. He was in a car accident himself; he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, and his neck was broken.”

“If we want a piece of Wexler, we’ll have to hustle to get to him before Vincent does.”

“Yeah. Why should he get to have all the fun,” Jeff growled.

“Mother and I knew you’d want to take care of the Senator. We told Mark to back off.”

“And he’ll listen to you?”

Quinn’s grin was rueful. “As much as he’ll listen to anyone. I told him I intended to sue Wexler in civil court. Mother won’t be awarded more than nominal damages, but it will annoy the hell out of the Senator to have his name in the newspapers.”

“He should be brought up on criminal charges, Quinton. His actions border on the criminal,” Ludo said.

“They’ve gone beyond that. We couldn’t prove he was behind it, though. We’d get nowhere in a court of law.”

“And there’s still the problem of Holmes. We don’t want to forget him.” We’d been so worried about Portia we’d let things with him slide.

“He’s going to realize sooner or later that his lousy trick with your cell phone is no longer working. We have to come up with something.” Jeff worried his lip.

“We will.” A sudden yawn caught Quinn by surprise. “Sorry.”

“Why don’t you get some rest, Quinn?” I squeezed his shoulder, and he smiled at me.

“I think I finally can now. I’m going home to pick up some things. I’ll return and spend the night with Mother, and then tomorrow…”

“You’ll stay with us at the Madison Arms. There’s enough room in our suite to accommodate all of us, Quinn.”

“Thanks. I’d appreciate that. I wasn’t looking forward to the drive to and from Alexandria.”

“Don’t be an ass. As if we’d have it any other way.” I checked my watch. “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day. I’ll take Novotny out to Great Falls to pack some clothes for himself, and then bring him back to our suite. He’ll want to be near Portia, and we’ll want to keep an eye on him. Although we won’t tell him that.”

“No. If you’re going to Great Falls, would you mind getting some things from home that Mother asked for? Some nightgowns and her robe and slippers, her toiletries and a book she’s been reading.” He handed me a piece of paper. “I made a list.”

“Very good. You know, Quinn, if you prefer, we can stop at your townhouse on the way to Great Falls.”

“Thanks, Uncle Bryan, but that won’t be necessary. I’ve got a ride home tonight. I’ll shower and change and pack what I need for a few days. I was just waiting for you to get back from the Foggy Bottom Deli…”

“We brought you something.” Jeff held up the sandwich.

“In spite of what I said?”

“We’re your uncles.”

He chuckled. “I’ll have it when I get back. I’ve got to go now. Mark… Mark’s waiting for me. Keep an eye on Mother, all right? I should be back in a couple of hours.”

Tony looked at him, his expression contemplative. “It doesn’t take two hours to drive to Alexandria and pack a bag, especially at this time of night.”

“It doesn’t, does it?” Quinn was a little flushed, but he made no attempt to explain. He went to his mother’s sleeping form and kissed her cheek, then whispered something in her ear and left.

Chapter 5

The next morning, no one wanted to go down to Novotny’s room with me.

“Portia needs us to be here with her.”

“Cowards,” I muttered at them.

“We know what he can be like when he’s recovering. Do you remember the time in the late ’80s when that bastard shot him, and Portia insisted he stay with her? I’d rather face a nest of pissed off rattlesnakes.”

“When did you deal with rattlesnakes, Jeff?”

“Do you doubt that I ever did?” That was the thing. He’d been all over the world, and it was not only possible that he had, but likely as well.

“Fine. See if I care. ‘It is a far, far better thing I do…’”

Jeff snickered and tried to look innocent. Ludo did a better job of it.

Tony gave me a smile that clearly stated he would make it up to me later that evening, and my return smile told him I’d be holding him to that.

“Portia, I’ll see you later.”

“Take care of Gregor, Bryan. He was injured because of me.”

“That wasn’t your fault, little sister, but I’ll leave Tony to argue with you over that.”

“Thank you. It’s good to know that the fact that I’m the big brother is appreciated.” He winked at me, and I left the room, smiling, and took the elevator down to Novotny’s floor.

“I’ve been discharged.” His attitude was pugnacious. “I’m going up to see Portia.”

“Fine,” I said mildly.

“And I’m not going back to Great Falls,” he growled as he gathered his belongings and limped toward the wheelchair hospital regulations required he ride down to the first floor in.

“Yes, you are. You’ll need some clothes of your own.”

“Why?”

“You’re staying with us at the Madison Arms.”

“But…”

“I’m not the Sebring who does the packing.”

“What?”

“I’m telling you, Novotny, the thought of you parading around in a johnny gown with your Czech ass hanging out does not appeal to me.”

That made him laugh, but he quickly grew serious. “Bryan…”

“Gregor, don’t be difficult. You’re going to want to see Portia, aren’t you?”

“Yes, of course, but Jeff told me that he and Ludovic are already staying with you, and the last thing you need is me hanging around. I can take a room at the Madison Arms, or some other hotel nearby.”

“The suite I reserved for us has a couple of sleeper sofas in the living room as well as two bedrooms. We’ve got plenty of room. Quinn will be with us too, you know.”

“So Jeff and Ludovic and you and Tony have the bedrooms?”

“Yeah.” I realized I might have painted myself into a corner. None of the family knew about our relationship. I thought quickly. “Tony and I are too old to trust our backs to a sofa.” I shrugged. “It’s a king size bed, so there’s plenty of room for both of us. If you want it though…”

“No, there’s no need to put yourselves out. I’ll take one of the sofas.”

**

We were at the hospital every day to see Portia. Occasionally she’d say, “What a shame. You’ve just missed Mark.”

“Is he avoiding us?”

“Of course not. Why would he?” she asked, all innocence. “After all, it isn’t as if he knows you plan to ask what his intentions are toward your nephew.”

“Portia - ”

“Do you like this color, Tony?” She held up a blue and green scarf she was crocheting. It had a zigzag pattern.

“Yes, it’s very pretty.”

“Good, because this one is for you. Jefferson, you and Ludovic will get matching blue and gold scarves.”

“Are you making one for me too?” I asked as I picked up a colorful cloth balloon with Get Well Soon!!! across it and a green troll in the basket below it. “Interesting.”

“Isn’t it? Make sure you take that home, please.” There had been so many flowers and balloons that she’d donated the majority of them to other wards. “And yes, I’ll make one for you too. Green and blue, I thought.”

“That’s ni-” My eyes shot up to her, but she was concentrating on the row she was crocheting.  “Uh…”

Tony walked past me and surreptitiously nudged me. I glanced at him, and he gave a slight shake of his head.

That evening we talked about it in bed.

“Does she know?”

“How can she? We’ve always been so careful.”

“Then why…”

“I don’t know, little brother. Maybe because it’s just the two of us.” He stroked my hair.

“But it’s not just the two of us. Cara Mia and Sunday - ”

“It’s just the two of us, Bry.”

“Are you regretting marrying her?”

“Let’s just say I think I may have been a little rash in trying to conceal what we have.”

“What do we do?”

“Nothing. Oh, you mean about our sister? Unless she actually asks us – unless anyone actually asks us – we don’t say anything.”

“Okay.”

“Are you okay?”

“Excuse me?”

“Bryan, I’m not ashamed of how I feel about you.”

“I know that, Tony.”

“If people knew…”

“Listen to me, big brother. People can go fuck themselves for all I care. For twenty-five years I had what society said I should have, and I was miserable.”

“You told me you weren’t.”

“I lied.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “This last year… I’ve never been so happy.”

“Really?”

“Would I lie to you?”

He laughed and pinched my ass, then reached up and framed my face with his hands. “I love you, Bry.”

“Love you too, Tony.”

**

It was Portia’s last day in the hospital.

We were all there to take her home and were just waiting for her doctor to come in and discharge her.

“I don’t understand what’s keeping Dr. Franke. He told me he would be here first thing this morning.” Clothes had already been laid out at the foot of her bed.

“An emergency perhaps?” Ludo offered.

“No doubt. I don’t want to sound childish…”

“Not a chance, little sister.”

She smiled fondly at Tony. “… but I am tired of looking at these four walls.”

“And the view from the window isn’t much to write home about.” It was simply another wing of the hospital.

“I can’t say I blame you, Mother. You must be really looking forward to sleeping in your own bed again.”

“Yes, I am. Although with my hip like this, I must confess that I’m not looking forward to climbing the stairs.”

“That’s something you won’t have to worry about. We’ve seen about having a stair lift put in for you. It’s got a very smooth ride.”

“Oh? You’ve already ridden it?”

“Well, I had to make sure it was safe for you, didn’t I?”

“You’re such a thoughtful son, sweetheart.”

Quinn grinned at her. “I think you’ll enjoy it, Mother. You can pretend it’s Pyrrhic Victory.”

Outside in the corridor we could hear the trundling of the carts bearing lunch, and he turned his head to glance in that direction.

That grin and that movement – for a brief second, he looked very much like his father, and I knew Portia saw it. Her expression became wistful.

An orderly walked in with a tray and placed it on the bedside table.

“I’m not supposed to have lunch today. I should have been discharged before now.”

He shrugged. “Dunno nothin’ ’bout that, ma’am. All’s I know is this here paper got your name an’ room number on it.” And he left to continue delivering lunches.

“You may as well eat, Portia.”

“Yes. Especially since it doesn’t look like I’ll be discharged just yet.” She sighed.

“I’ll be right back.” I walked out of the room. Tony followed me.

“What’s bothering you, little brother?”

“Shouldn’t someone have come to tell Portia if Franke was delayed for any reason?” I approached the nurses’ station. “Excuse me, Artie,” I said to the ward clerk.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Sebring. Mr. Sebring.” He grinned at my brother. “What are you still doing here? Didn’t Mrs. Mann go home yet?”

“No, and that’s what I wanted to ask you. Where’s Dr. Franke?”

Alice, the head nurse, joined us. “Dr. Franke had a family emergency. Dr. Baxter, his associate, was supposed to discharge Mrs. Mann.”

“He hasn’t been by.”

“Something must be delaying him. I’ll see Mrs. Mann has a lunch sent up.”

“One already was.”

Alice seemed surprised. “Oh. Well, that happens from time to time, a minor glitch with the kitchen. I’ll just call Dr. Baxter’s service and see what’s holding him up.”

“Thanks.”

It turned out that there had been a pile-up on the Beltway, and he was in surgery. “I’m afraid he won’t be in until sometime this afternoon.”

We returned to Portia’s room and told her.

“There’s no point in you all sitting around watching me eat. Why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get yourselves something?”

“Sounds like a good idea. I’m starved. Do you want us to bring you anything? A bag of chips, a piece of pie?”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

“Mother?”

“Go ahead, Quinton.”

We left as she opened the plastic wrapper that held a fork, spoon, and knife.

The cafeteria was crowded, and it took a while before we got our lunch and found a place to sit.

Because of the crowd, we had to guard our conversation, and so we chatted of the mundane. None of us was in the mood to linger however, so as soon as we finished eating, we disposed of our trays and returned to the 6^th floor.

It wasn’t too long after when a white-coated doctor strolled in. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Mann. It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Doctor Baxter.”

Finally. I studied the man. He was a little under average height and rotund, with sandy hair and myopic eyes.

“Doctor Franke was unexpectedly called away, and I’m filling in for him.”

“We’re aware.”

He glanced at us, an eyebrow raised. “And you are?”

“Her son.” “Her brothers.” “Her… bodyguard.”

“B- bodyguard?” He paled a little. “I didn’t realize…” He swallowed and pasted a smile on his face, and turned back to Portia. “How are we feeling today, Mrs. Mann?”

“I don’t know about you, but I feel fine, and I want to go home.”

I was a little surprised at the shortness of Portia’s response. Usually she was gracious to a fault. A glance at Tony and the others revealed they were just as nonplussed as I.

“Yes, yes, I imagine you’re impatient to leave.” Apparently Dr. Baxter saw nothing amiss in her reply. “How was your lunch?” He studied her tray. “You seem to have eaten most of it.”

“As appetizing as the hospital’s food has been, I’m sure you can understand that I am anxious to go home.”

“Well, now, as to that…” He tapped his lower lip thoughtfully. “I’m afraid it looks like we’ll need to keep you one more day.” He raised his hand to forestall the protest he was correct in anticipating. “Although your tests have all come back very positive – for the most part – Dr. Franke and I want to be sure that the insult to your lung is completely healed.” He took the stethoscope from around his neck. “Lean forward please. Now, breathe in. Breathe out. Again. And one more time.” He let the stethoscope dangle from his neck and thumped her back.

“I trust they’re working appropriately, Doctor Baxter?” she asked dryly.

“Yes, they are!” His smile seemed patronizing to me, and I wondered how his female patients put up with him. “However, I do think it best to keep you here for another night.”

“And will I be able to leave tomorrow?”

“Oh, yes. I promise you.”

“Well, whoop-de-doo,” Novotny muttered under his breath.

Doctor Baxter frowned at him and cleared his throat. “I have to finish my rounds. I’m quite behind. A rather serious accident, you know…”

“We know.”

He cleared his throat again. “I’m sure Doctor Franke will be back to check on you again first thing in the morning, Mrs. Mann.” And he left. 

“Supercilious, condescending, arrogant… I told Dr. Franke I didn’t want him at my bedside again.”

“I don’t blame you, little sister.”

“I don’t get it,” Novotny fumed.

“Neither do I. And what’s more, I don’t like it.” Tony looked unhappy about the whole situation.

“You think he has an ulterior motive in keeping me here?”

“But it doesn’t make sense,” Ludo said. “Why would…”

There was a tap on the door. “Excuse me for interrupting.” We turned to face a girl wearing a candy striper’s uniform. She couldn’t have been much more than fourteen.

“What can I do for you, Megan?”

She gave a shy smile and approached the bed. “I have these for you, Mrs. Mann.” In her arms was a stack of magazines. “The floor supervisor said I should bring them to you.” She looked around for a place to put them, and I took them from her.

“People, Entertainment Weekly, Soap Opera Digest…” I started to laugh. “Are you keeping something from us, Portia?”

“You know I’m more likely to read Time or Newsweek. Who are these from, Megan?”

“I don’t know - ”

“All right, thank you.”

“ – but there’s a card.” Megan took it from her pocket and handed it to her. “I’m sorry you won’t be going home today, Mrs. Mann.”

“How did you know that?”

She jumped at the sharpness in Tony’s tone. “I… I must have overheard… I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, my dear. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Portia said soothingly.

“I’ll just be… I have to go now.”

We watched her as she scurried out.

“What do you make of that?”

“I don’t know.” Quinn worried his lower lip. “I don’t like it though. How possible is it that anyone on this floor could have already known you’d be staying another night, Mother?”

“If something was wrong, then yes, it is possible, but you’re right, I don’t like it.” She opened the envelope and took out the small square. Her mouth tightened. “‘A little light reading to pass the time. I’m sorry you’ll be staying another night, Portia, my dear,’” she read. “It’s signed with an ‘R’.”

“Richard Wexler?” With a grimace of distaste, I dropped the magazines on the heating unit beneath the window.

“Who else? You saw that Birnam Wood of a flower arrangement he sent.”

“I say, that was in ruddy poor taste.”

“It was, wasn’t it, Ludovic?”

“But how did he know you’d be here another day?”

“We’ll have to assume either Baxter or one of the nurses is on Wexler’s payroll. Or even one of the aides.” Quinn pulled out his cell phone. “He had the sense not to show up before now, but I wouldn’t put it past him to use this as an excuse to pay you a visit. I’m staying with you tonight, Mother.”

“All right, sweetheart.” It said something that she didn’t argue with him. “But it’s Friday.”

“It doesn’t matter. Excuse me.” Quinn hit speed dial and was silent for a few moments until whoever was on the other end picked up. “Hi, it’s me. I won’t be able to make dinner tonight.”

Novotny groaned and rolled his eyes. “Vincent,” he mouthed, and we all listened with unabashed interest.

Quinn raised an eyebrow, and when we smiled innocently, shook his head and turned his back on us. “No, Mother is doing well. She won’t be discharged until the morning, though. Doctor Baxter… Baxter. Apparently he’s Franke’s associate. I haven’t met him before, but Mother has. She doesn’t like him. Baxter said something about wanting to be sure her lung is healed. I know, that does make sense, but I don’t believe it either. Yes, he might be involved. Listen to me. I don’t want you doing anything.” He lowered his voice, but it was a small room, and we could still hear. “Don’t give me that – ‘Don’t I always listen to you, baby!’ Yes, I’ll bet you’re cut to the quick.” Quinn’s laugh was soft.  “Just don’t do anything. I’ll talk to you later tonight or tomorrow. Bye.”

Portia was smiling too, and more than ever I wanted to meet Vincent face to face. Then my sister’s gaze fell on the magazines, and her mouth tightened.

“Would one of you mind removing them?”

**

We stayed until after dinner, but when Wexler still hadn’t put in an appearance, “Go on back to the Madison Arms,” Portia ordered us. “You’re making the nurses nervous, standing around and looking as if you’d like to shoot someone. Quinton will make sure nothing happens.”

“Call us if you need to be spelled, Quinn.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, but thanks, Uncle Tony.”

“Portia…”

“I’ll be fine, Gregor. Now go!” She reached for a ball of yarn and a crochet hook.

**

We returned to our suite at the Madison Arms, still disgruntled by the latest turn of events.

“I’ll make some coffee.” Novotny, his limp almost gone, went into the kitchenette.

“Is it too early for CIA?”

“Wrong night, big brother.” I grinned at Tony. He grinned back at me, a slow, sensuous curl of his lips that went right to my cock. “How about Jeopardy?”

“Sounds good to me.” Jeff, unaware of the byplay, turned on the television. He loosened his tie and was about to drop onto the loveseat when he paused. “What’s this?”

Lying on the cocktail table that was angled between the loveseat and the sofa was a padded envelope. He picked it up.

“Hmmm. That’s odd.” He looked up. “It’s addressed to Novotny.”

“What’s odd about Novotny getting a package?”

“Nothing. What’s odd is that there’s no postage on it. That would mean it was hand-delivered, don’t you think?”

“But the front desk didn’t mention anything about a delivery.” Tony took it from Jeff and examined it.

“No, you’re right.” I took it from Tony and turned it over and over. “It feels like it might be a tape. Novotny…” He was coming from the kitchenette bearing a tray with five coffee cups. “… were you expecting anything?”

“No. Who’s it from?”

“No return address. Who knew you’d be here tonight?” If Portia had been discharged as she was supposed to have been, he’d have been in Great Falls.

“No one, to my knowledge. This is making me nervous.” He put the tray down on the bar that separated the kitchenette from the sitting area, took the envelope from me, and studied it in turn.

“Are you going to open it?”

He held it to his ear. “It isn’t ticking. It should be safe enough.” He took out a pen knife, slit open an end, and tipped it over. A VHS tape slid out.

“You were right, little brother.”

“What the…” Along with the tape was a folded piece of paper. “You might find this useful.” Novotny read aloud. “It should help you deal with the matter that’s been of concern to you all. Don’t worry about screwing up the tape, there are copies. Goddammit! This is from Vincent!”

“He signed it?”

“No.”

“Do you recognize the writing?”

“It’s been printed out, but I have no doubt he’s behind this!”

I raised an eyebrow, but I couldn’t help grinning. If we tried to track it down, we’d probably find out the printer belonged to the FBI.

“Vincent is slipping.” There was triumph in Novotny’s voice. “This is less than useless. There’s no VCR in this suite.”

“That’s right.”

“But where did this came from, then?” Ludo asked.

A small video cassette recorder had been hooked up to the television.

“Well, hell.” Novotny glared at it.

“Let’s see what’s on the tape, shall we?”

Novotny turned on the VCR, griping the whole time. “The man wouldn’t dare… He’s got more gall than… How the fuck could he…I don’t like it!”

“We get that impression, Novotny.”

He put the tape into the machine and hit play, and we stood around the set and watched.

A very pretty brunette and two equally pretty young men, a blond and a brunet, appeared on the screen. They were in a bedroom that looked as if someone had gone wild with various shades of pink, and they were all naked.

“That’s Delilah Carson, the party girl who was killed around the beginning of the year.”

Four sets of eyes turned to stare at me.

“And you know this how, little brother?” Tony’s expression was flat, and I realized he was jealous.

“Don’t be an ass, Tony. I read the newspapers.”

“Sorry.”

I hooked my little finger with his surreptitiously, liking the fact that he was jealous, even if it was in retrospect.

‘Suck him, Delilah!’ A falsetto voice off screen was directing them. ‘I want to see you take his big cock all the way down your throat.’

‘Sure, sugar. Whatever you say.’ Delilah went down on the redhead.

“It’s a stag reel! Vincent is yanking our chain! Oh, if that isn’t just like the son of a bitch!” Novotny moved to turn it off.

“Do you really think Mr. Vincent would do that without a purpose?”

“You don’t know him, Ludo. The man’s a sociopath!”

“You’ve been listening to Major Drum.”

“As if I’d pay attention to someone who only appreciates Quinn for what he can do for him!” Novotny was affronted.

He reached forward to shut off the tape just as the off screen voice ordered, ‘Fuck her up the ass!’ It was no longer falsetto.

“Just a second.” Something about that voice nagged at me.

“Don’t tell me you want to watch this garbage, Bryan…”

“No, listen!”

‘Don’t ask her! I’m paying for this! Shove your cock into her! Make her squeal!’

“So this guy is into butt sex. So what?”

“That sounds just like Edward Holmes!” 

“Are you sure, Bry? He couldn’t be so stupid as to let himself get caught in such a compromising situation!”

“No?”

We continued to watch as the younger man began to have anal sex with Delilah Carson, all the while kissing the brunet she was deep-throating.

‘I can’t see!’

Delilah let the cock she was sucking slip from her lips. ‘Why don’t you come around here, sugar? You’ll have a great view.’

An ass with a strip of material running up the crack filled the screen.

“Some people should not be allowed to wear thongs.”

We could see the birthmark on one cheek before he settled himself at the head of the bed. Long, curly red hair spilled over his shoulders, and he was wearing a shocking pink bra and panty set.

“Some redheads should never wear pink.”

“He isn’t a natural redhead. Look.” The flared head of an engorged cock poked against the material that contained it, causing it to gap at the leg and reveal coarse brown and gray pubic hairs.

“Fuck!” Novotny’s eyes were goggling. The wig had fallen off enough to reveal that it actually was the DCI of the CIA. “Fuck!” He swallowed.

“This is too good!” Jeff was almost choking on his laughter.

“Oh, I say!” Ludovic sounded shocked down to his British soul, but the grin on his face was positively delighted. “I do believe Mr. Vincent has given you more than just a voice!”

“Fuck!” Novotny shook his head, still unable to believe his eyes.

Tony blinked, speechless.

“Well.” I cleared my throat. “I don’t think Quinn will have to worry about being sent on useless assignments anymore.”

“I could sure use a shot of whiskey in my coffee.” Novotny was finally able to say more than ‘fuck.’ “Anyone else want one?”

We all nodded, and he went to the mini bar, took out the miniature bottles, and passed them around.

“I’ll share with Bryan, Novotny. Thanks,” Tony murmured.

“Sure.” Novotny handed me the bottle.

“So Vincent is giving us Holmes.” I cracked the seal on the bottle and split the contents between us, and Tony touched his cup to mine. “I have to say, that’s the last thing I expected.”

“Vincent’s generosity?” Novotny sat down on the cocktail table.

“No. I was thinking more along the lines of Holmes in women’s underwear.”

“I think I’m going to have nightmares.”

“Definitely not a pretty sight.”

“All right. So who gets to beard Edward Holmes in his den?”

“I’ll do it. I was the most recently fired.”

“You weren’t fired, little brother. You resigned, remember? And if you tell me you lied…”

I nudged my shoulder against Tony’s. “That’s irrelevant, big brother.”

“Count me in.” Jeff’s grin would have made Holmes nervous if he’d seen it.

“Me, too. I may have been FBI, but I’m not letting you have all the fun.”

“And you’re not leaving me out, either,” Ludo said. “Quinton is as much my nephew as he is yours!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, dear chap.” Jeff pulled Ludo against him and rubbed his cheek against his lover’s hair.

For a moment I was saddened by the thought that my lover and I could never blatantly display our affection, but then I took myself sternly to task. Little more than a year ago I never would have dreamed that I would have the one I loved.

I was startled when I felt Tony run his hand over my hair. He tugged a lock and smiled into my eyes, then turned to the others.

“Now let’s start making plans.”

**Epilogue**

According to plan, I entered the DCI’s office. Alone, which was also according to plan.

“I’m so glad to see you’re in, Edward. I’d like a moment of your time, if you don’t mind?” I took a seat on the other side of his desk.

“Sebring.” He scowled at me. He hated when any of his officers called him by his first name, but then I’d never been one of his officers. “I thought you were out in California. What are you doing in DC?”

“You may have heard my sister was in an… accident.”

“Ah. Yes, I’d heard Portia had been hurt. I sent flowers.”

“She got them.” And as soon as she’d read the card, she’d had them sent to another ward. She still held it against him that he’d made no move to have her son rescued when he’d been kidnapped. “We’ve been staying here until we were sure of her recovery.”

“‘We’ve?’”

“My brothers. Gregor Novotny.”

“I trust her recovery is complete?”

“No. Oh, she’s out of the hospital now, but she’ll need to have extensive physical therapy.”

“I… I hadn’t heard.” His face turned gray. “That wasn’t…” He chopped off whatever he had been about to say.

I wondered if he’d had any knowledge of Wexler’s little plan concerning my sister. If we brothers ever learned that he did… I smiled at him, and he moistened his lips and his eyes seemed to want to skitter off mine.

“Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to discuss… er… What exactly can I do for you, Sebring?” he asked, his tone bluff.

“You always were straight to the point, Edward. That was one of the few things about you that I could tolerate.”

“Sebring…”

“My brother and I are flying back to LA, and I’m sure you’ll understand that I can’t stay long, so I’ll keep this brief. I want you to stop sending my nephew on fruitless and ineffective missions.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t you? Perhaps you’ll recall his assignment to Bangkok?”

“I had perfectly valid information…”

“The fact remains that the mission was less than useless.”

“If he’s not capable…”

“All the recent missions you’ve assigned him have been useless. You’ve been trying to establish that he’s no longer a competent officer.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Is it? Let me make this perfectly plain, Edward. This country means a great deal to us Sebrings; you counted on that, and you were right. But there’s something you are apparently unaware of: family – my brothers, sister, nephew – means even more.”

His face darkened. “And your nephew sent you to complain to me about it? He isn’t man enough to…”

I sat back in my chair and crossed my legs. “No, no, Edward, you really don’t want to get into a discussion about manhood with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you think I will?”

“What?”

“Excuse you, especially when on top of that, there’s the little matter of subliminal perception?” He turned pale. “Who did you have tinker with Quinn’s cell phone?”

“That’s nonsense! It’s… it’s right out of a science fiction novel!”

“Do you think so? Or did you just think that I was unaware that Hazelton had that in the works before he decided it was too risky with the present administration?” I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward. “Quinton Mann is one of the best officers you’ve got. I’d suggest you forget you ever agreed to reassign him to Paramaribo, and leave him alone to do his job.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Do you remember Delilah Carson?”

“Everyone in the Capital is aware of who Delilah Carson was. What she was.”

“I have something I think you’ll want to see.” I took the tape out of my pocket and placed it on his desk.

His expression was disdainful and self-righteous. “Are you peddling porn now, Sebring?”

“Why would you assume that, Edward?”

“You mention a known call girl, then display a video tape.” He curled his lip and sneered. “What else am I to think?”

“That I might have it in mind to blackmail you?” His eyes widened, and when I smiled this time, he couldn’t prevent a flinch. “On this tape are images of a known call girl, as you termed her, and two rent boys. With them is a high ranking director of counter intelligence. You, Edward.”

“You… What… I never…”

“You can watch it if you’d like, just to verify that it is what I say it is.”

He stared at the tape as if it were a venomous snake, then raised his eyes to mine, and he must have remembered something, because his complexion had become sickly. “What do you want from me?”

“I already told you. Leave my nephew alone to do his job.”

“And if I refuse to allow myself to give in to your ineffectual threats? After all, I’m divorced. If that is me on the tape – not that I’m admitting to anything – who would I be harming?”

“I think we both know they aren’t ineffectual threats, Edward. This administration doesn’t look kindly on alternative lifestyles. However likely the Pres might be to look the other way if it was just you and Delilah, he’ll be much less likely when there are two young men involved as well, and you’re dressed in women’s lingerie and wearing a red wig and makeup.”

“I can claim those images were manipulated.”

“True. But there are ways to ascertain whether they were or not. And it will become clear that they were not. Edie.”

His expression abruptly became conciliatory. “There’s no need for us to be less than civilized over something as innocuous and clearly open to misinterpretation as I’m sure this tape is.” He smiled, and I wished he hadn’t. He wasn’t very good at trying to convey good-fellowship. He leaned forward, his right hand disappearing behind his desk. “Is there anything I can do to persuade you to…”

“Keep your hands in view, Edward.”

“What are you…”

“I know about the Colt you keep in that drawer.”

“That’s…”

“And did you think I’d be so stupid as to come here alone? My brothers and Novotny are in your outer office. If you shoot me, they’ll have no qualms about killing you.”

“Suppose I’m willing to take that risk?”

“You’re an asshole, Edward, but you never struck me as being a stupid asshole.”

He glanced at his desk drawer, then stared at me for a long moment, breathing heavily. Finally, he folded his hands together and rested them on the top of the desk. They were gripped so tightly his knuckles were white. He saw where my gaze was directed and made a concerted effort to relax his fingers.

“And if I… if I agree to your demands?”

“Demand, singular, Edward. Leave Quinn to do his job.” I pushed the tape toward him. “I’ll go back to California and forget I ever viewed this.”

His fingers flexed as if he desperately wanted to snatch the video off the desk and tear the tape from it in a long black ribbon.

“You may have me by the short hairs, but it won’t do you much good, Sebring. It goes higher, you know. It’s not just me.”

“I know. Senator Wexler.”

“You knew? How could you know?”

“Edward, Edward, Edward. We’re a family of spooks. How could we not know? And of course there’s one additional detail: the Senator is not as smart as he seems to think he is.” A Midwestern newspaper had found its way to our suite, and Tony and I had read it with growing disgust. Secret deals with foreign governments that poured money into offshore accounts. I’d torn out the pertinent pages and folded them into my pocket. Now I took them out and passed them across the desk to Holmes.

He unfolded the sheets, smoothed them, and began to read. The further he got, the more his color leached out.

“Interesting about him, isn’t it? I imagine he’s going to be too busy denying these allegations and dealing with the IRS to be concerned with my sister or my nephew.”

“Very well,” he finally said, his voice little more than a hoarse croak. He bunched the newspaper and threw it into his waste basket, and gave a sour laugh. “I agree. I don’t have much choice. Give me the tape!”

I nodded toward it, and he grabbed it.

“I believe that’s all.” I rose to my feet and crossed to the door. Just before I opened it, I paused and turned back to face the DCI. He was beginning to regain his color. “Just in case you decide, after a few days, that with the tape in your possession there really isn’t any need for you to honor our agreement?” I displayed a small recording device about the size of a credit card. A former contact had gotten in touch with me in response to my message on her answering machine, and when I explained what I needed, she’d over-nighted it to me from New Mexico.

“You taped our conversation? How did you get that in here? That’s…”

“Un-Constitutional? Y’know something, Edward? I don’t think the Pres would really care much.” I didn’t see any need at this point to inform him that I’d made copies of the incriminating tape itself.

“Get out!” He rose jerkily to his feet, and his fingers scrabbled at his collar in an attempt to loosen it. “Get out!”

“Have a good day, Edward.” And I closed the door behind me. I smiled at his secretary. “Thanks again for squeezing me in, April. Oh, and you might want to see Director Holmes has a cup of tea. He seems to be a bit under the weather.” I turned to my brothers. “Ready, gentlemen?”

They followed me out the door.

“Well done, little brother.” Tony removed an earpiece from his right ear. He slid his arm around my shoulder. His hand closed on my upper arm and squeezed gently.

He had insisted I wear a wire on the off chance I couldn’t convince Holmes that going for his gun wasn’t in his own best interest. ‘I don’t want to lose you so soon after I’ve got you,’ he’d whispered before I could object. The expression on his face had revealed how devastated the thought alone made him, and I’d taken him in my arms and agreed.

Jeff, Ludo, and Novotny also removed earpieces and tucked them away in their pockets. They’d been listening in to the entire meeting as well.

“Bryan, I never would have suspected… You were downright frightening, did you know that?”

“You’re just realizing that now, Ludo?” Jeff grinned at his lover. “The sprout could be deadly for a desk jockey.”

“Good work, Bryan!” Novotny thumped my back. “I loved you telling Holmes he didn’t want to get into a discussion about manhood with you. You’re a pistol!”

“It’s always the quiet ones.” Tony’s eyes were full of pride.

I blushed and bumped his shoulder with mine. “Let’s go. Portia’s going to wonder what’s keeping us.”

We were having a final dinner with her and Quinn, and then Tony and I would drive back to DC. In the morning we’d check out of the Madison Arms and fly home to California.

We entered the elevator and rode it down to the parking garage and the rented car that would take us to Great Falls.

~End~