The Charm School by Nelson DeMille Page B

She could be described as pleasantly plump or perhaps full-figured. In any case, men seemed to like her lustiness and easy manner.
    Lisa said, “I can’t offer you a drink.”
    “That’s all right. I thought I’d drop in on the Friday night follies.”
    Lisa nodded. The Friday night cocktail reception, given by the ambassador, was a sort of TGIF affair, except that the weekends were worse than the weekdays. Traditionally all visiting Americans in Moscow were invited to the reception, and in the days when you could count the Americans on two hands, they were contacted individually. Now, with increased trade and tourism, it was sort of an open invitation that you had to know about. The embassy staff seemed to enjoy seeing new faces, and the visiting Americans were usually thrilled to be there. Sort of like sitting at the captain’s table, Lisa thought.
    Kay said, “Come with me. Call the guard post and tell them where you’ll be.”
    “No, thanks, Kay.”
    “Sometimes there are interesting men there. That’s why I go. You’re young and good-looking, Lisa. You attract them, and I’ll pounce on them.”
    Lisa smiled.
    “Last week,” Key continued, “I met a single man who was in Moscow to see about exporting Armenian cognac to the States. He comes in about once a month. Stays at the Trade Center Hotel, so he must have money and connections.”
    “Was he nice?”
    “Yes. Very.” Kay grinned.
    Lisa forced a smile in return. “I’m not up to it tonight.”
    Kay shrugged. She said, “What are you working on?”
    “Oh, that rock group, Van Halen, who played at the Kolonnyi Zal.”
    “How were they?”
    “I got a headache from them. But you’d have thought by the crowd that John Lennon had returned from the dead with free Levis for everyone.”
    “Write something nice.”
    “I’m trying.” Lisa went back to her work.
    “What happened with that political affairs officer? Seth Alevy.”
    “I’d rather not talk about it.”
    “All right.” Kay looked at her watch. “I can make the last half hour. Then I’ll be downstairs in the bowling alley bar. Unless I get lucky.”
    Lisa smiled. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
    “You need a man, sweetie.” Kay Hoffman left.
    A few minutes later, the phone rang, and Lisa saw the red light flashing, indicating that the Marine post was calling her. She picked up the receiver. “Rhodes here.”
    “This is Corporal Hines, ma’am. I have a call from a man who says he is a U.S. national. Says he wants to speak to a defense attaché.”
    Her eyebrows rose. “A
defense attaché.
Why?”
    “Won’t say. Sounds like a young guy. Won’t say where he’s calling from either.”
    “Put him through.”
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    The phone clicked, and she heard Corporal Hines say, “Go ahead, sir.”
    A male voice said, “Hello…?”
    “This is Ms. Rhodes speaking. Can I help you?”
    There was no response for several seconds, then the voice said, “I have to speak to a defense attaché. Air Force, if possible.”
    “For what reason, sir?”
    “It’s important. National security.”
    She checked the recording device to make sure it was activated. “Then perhaps it’s not a good idea to speak on the phone.”
    “I know that. But I don’t have any choice. I have to tell you now—before they come for me.”
    “Who is going to come for you?”
    “You know who.”
    “All right… .” She thought a moment. There was a possibility this was a setup or a prank, but her instincts said it was neither. “What is your name, sir?”
    “Why can’t I speak to a defense attaché?”
    “Do you know what a defense attaché is?”
    “No… but I was told to speak to one.”
    “Who told you that?”
    “Is your phone tapped?”
    “You must assume it is.”
    “Oh, Christ. Can you send someone to get me? I need help.”
    “Where are you?”
    “Maybe I can get there. Can I get through the gate?”
    Lisa Rhodes thought he was sounding more distraught and perhaps a bit