Chapter 23: Movin’

WE HAD ANOTHER long day at the office on Friday. It was especially long for Adrienne, who had a little difficulty sitting. The guys had done a pretty good storyboard. They’d learned a lot through the previous two movies.

“We need to create a situation in which Spy Boy is nearly captured by bad guys, but cleverly outwits them, preferably disabling them, but not killing them. We should have them able to seek revenge later in the movie. But Spy Boy will be safe and will inadvertently save someone else at the same time. That will be the opening sequence, getting us off on the right foot,” Bert had said.

“We can have him save Luscious Lady from being run over by a steamroller driven by Bad Guy. She is so grateful she attaches herself to him and becomes his assistant.”

“No,” I said. “She can’t just be some random person who attaches herself to him, even if he saves her life. She needs to be employed by the State Department or the embassy or the CIA. She’d never get a job as his assistant if she hadn’t been vetted and trained inside at least as long as he has. She has to have been planted inside a long time, perhaps with an antagonistic relationship to Spy Boy until her rescue, waiting to be activated.”

“Yes! That works even better.”

We moved on through the movie storyboard and I was already thinking they’d have to cut an hour from it, like they had the first movie. The plot was complex. It either needed a manager to give him his assignment (and assistant) or he needed to already be in the depths of his undercover work and we’d need to find out why.

We did have lunch delivered to the office, and after a full day, we all headed out to dinner.

“So, Nate, the next thing we’d like is to have you photograph our production,” Frank said.

“Frank, I have a job. As of next week, I won’t be able to meet with you again until June,” I said.

“We understand. We understand. We’ll have the whole set ready for you to photograph in a week as soon as you can get free. We’re going for a Christmas ‘74 release date. Part of the reason we were overlooked for the awards on the last two pictures is because they released in the spring or summer. If we hit the theatres before the end of the year, the box office results will drive recognition,” Frank said.

“I liked what you did with that babe you’re sending us from Stratford,” Steven said. “I’d like to take specific scenes from the movie and have you photograph them as a filmstrip, like you did with—what’s her name? Anita. That’s it. We could make a really fine trailer out of them. I’m still thinking there’s a strong photography tie-in.”

“We can probably work something out. I just need to coordinate it with my schedule shooting the shows in Stratford,” I said.

“Keep an eye out for possible locations as you travel,” Bert said. “In fact, if you can get away with photographing some things like popular tourist locations, embassies, castles, or what-have-you, we could use them as settings. So far, it doesn’t make a difference where these settings are. This story is about a world traveler. We need places where we can film him fighting off the bad guys.”

“You know, I do get around a little,” I sighed. “One of the embassy attachés was telling me that the problem with spy movies was that the technology wasn’t even close to what was actually available for top secret operations. He suggested we should think more of Dick Tracy’s two-way wrist TV. Second, if there is a direct physical confrontation with the spy, the mission has already failed. I understand, though, that it’s the action sequences that sell the movie. Just don’t get so dependent on them that there’s no other reason to see the film.”

“Sex!” Brent said. They all laughed and finally, Adrienne and I managed to escape.

Once back at her apartment, I bathed her and carefully anointed all her bruises with the healing salve again. Then I made sure she had an extremely fulfilling night. I filled her full several times.

Anna picked me up in Chicago at the airport Saturday afternoon and we headed for Tenbrook. Ronda and Patricia had taken the children in the other car.

“You know, we should consider getting rid of our cars,” I said. “The old bus is fun and has lots of happy memories, but it’s slow. And while Patricia’s car still has more pep, it’s too small for all six of us. We’re taking two cars everyplace, it seems.”

“You’ve got a point. I don’t know that anyone will want to get rid of the bus, though. Too many happy memories. Maybe if we sold Patricia’s car, we could get something bigger to replace it that we could all ride in.”

“It’s worth talking about,” I agreed.

We did talk about it. Ronda and Patricia agreed they would rather get rid of her little Rambler than the microbus. Tor suggested we look at some of the possibilities before we made a final decision, but we were leaving the country in ten days. He finally agreed to keep Patricia’s car and try to sell it while we were gone.

We cleaned the little car thoroughly, finding old Cheerios under the seats and a baby bottle that had coagulated solid. We vacuumed it and washed it, then took off for Dekalb on Sunday.

We didn’t make it in time for church, but Mom wasn’t preaching anyway. We had a nice time and spent the night with all six of us in the spare room. That was interesting. We’d originally thought we would stay with them while Ronda and I went to work on Tuesday and Wednesday. We decided that wasn’t the best idea, so Monday afternoon, we moved to a hotel in Chicago. Our house in Antioch was occupied.

“It’s good to see you back in the office,” Mr. Martin said. “How was your summer?”

“Exciting. I think we’re all ready to get back to the sane schedule of flitting from embassy to embassy,” I joked.

“I hope you don’t regret those words,” Martin chuckled. “Our agenda includes setting up your order of priority for various nations, and getting your family moved. First, have you had any good thoughts on securing our systems?”

“Oh. Yes, sir. I assumed Polaroid contacted you for approval.”

“Approval of what?”

“I contacted Miss Alexander at Polaroid and we talked about securing the camera equipment. That is really the key. Without the camera itself, there is nothing to create the front passport page. That’s the page that has all the defining information on it, including the seal. We arrived at an idea of installing a keylock on the camera itself. Without the camera unlocked there is no way to create a passport.”

“And when was I supposed to find out about this?”

“Miss Alexander said she would run the idea by the team to determine its viability. My assumption was that she or someone there would run it by you while I was gone. When I picked up the shipping statement for the equipment sent to London for the warehouse, it simply said ‘with camera lock.’ She didn’t contact you?” I said.

“No. Do you think this will actually work to secure the system?”

“If it works the way we described, the camera function will be completely disabled unless the key is in it and turned to unlock. And the key cannot be withdrawn with the camera in the unlock position. All we need to do is include training on making sure the camera is locked after every use and that the key is not simply hung on a peg next to the door. There is also a feature that completely disables the unit if the key is turned the wrong direction.”

“Okay. I’m satisfied.”

“Really? Shouldn’t it have come to you for approval?”

“Did you approve the idea?”

“Well, yes.”

“Your grade level is empowered to make those decisions. And your new pay grade will allow you to overrule anyone who wants to modify it.”

“New pay grade, sir?”

“After your stellar performance in Great Britain this spring, the review board determined that your jobs should be rated as GS14 rather than GS12. In addition to giving you security clearance at a higher level, it will make you masters of your airplane.”

“What does that mean, exactly, sir?” Ronda asked.

“It means that it takes someone with a GS16 clearance to commandeer your aircraft. In army speak, that means general officer. In civil service, it means someone with the executive rank of a career ambassador or minister. In most instances, the chief of mission in an embassy will outrank you. I suspect, however, that you will never encounter one who wants to commandeer your aircraft without a damn good reason.”

“Sir, are we really that important?” Ronda asked. I was glad she asked the question. My gut was telling me I’d just become a living example of the Peter principle. I’d been promoted way beyond my competence level.

“No. Yes. You see, the original job description would not come close to covering what you are rated at. Your new job description, however, recognizes that you are providing a vital service to Consular Affairs. That service is not to be interrupted. But that’s not all,” he said, pausing to shuffle papers on his desk.

“I was going to save this part for the end of our meeting rather than the beginning. Oh well. Your new job title is Foreign Service Specialist, Passport and Visa Services. Your official job as couriers means that you may be sent on detours within your field of operation. For the next nine months, your field of operation is defined as Europe and the Middle East. So, after installing equipment and training staff, say in Switzerland, you might be given a package to deliver to West Berlin. That destination is within your field of operation. So, instead of flying straight back to London, you might need to take your plane to Berlin first. I give you that as an extreme example. We actually want to keep you out of Berlin and you would more likely be routed to Bonn. But there are places that we have difficulty getting information or directives to, and they may be sent to you at any one of our locations, and you would be asked to deliver it to someplace not normally on your route for that trip.”

“We wouldn’t get caught up in a cycle of carrying letters back and forth between two places for a month without getting home, would we?” I asked. That was an alarming prospect.

“I can safely say that it would be a national emergency if you were called on to abandon your primary responsibility in order to function as a courier. There are people out there with that responsibility. Most ‘second leg’ dispatches will accompany you to London and be taken care of by the embassy there.”

“I see.”

“And, you should visit your camera friends and pick up a new camera. My boss found out you were using your own camera for all the photos of ambassadors and events. He came down on me pretty hard for not equipping my people appropriately. Don’t go overboard, but get a camera that satisfies the needs you’ve experienced.”

Somehow, my job no longer sounded as straightforward as I once thought it was.

We spent Wednesday making sure equipment had arrived and was properly warehoused in London, confirming our first installations for September, verifying our apartment was ready for us in London, and coordinating with Josie regarding when we’d plan to check in with her each week. Then I went to see Levi at Camera Warehouse. He’d just received a new Nikon kit with the F2 model. I liked it a lot. My mechanical drive would work with it and all my lenses could fit it if I needed them. It had a new 1/2000 of a second shutter speed and I loved the fact that the back just swung open instead of being completely removed.

Then he made a deal. Good old Levi.

“Trade me your old camera body for this new one. You still have patrons who will cover the difference. Then I can sell you this fine used Nikon F for use with the government at a substantial discount. You can afford to add a Nikkor 50-300 mm f4.5 zoom lens. It’s heavy, but the best zoom I’ve seen yet.”

“Levi, that sounds excellent. Let’s make the deal.” I left with a new camera for me and a used camera for the State Department.

The next day, we headed back to Canada to get things ready to ship. We spent the night at the hotel in Windsor for the first time in a long time. The manager was happy to see us and was effusive about greeting the new baby. He gave us two dinner coupons and gave Toni a lollipop, which she promised not to eat until after dinner.

Our room was not the original luxury suite we’d had on our first visits. The radio broadcaster who had moved into it was staying long-term. The room on the end, however, was still more than comfortable. It just didn’t have the big hot tub and a bar as fully stocked as the luxury suite. Otherwise, the family scarcely noticed the difference.

Once we were back in Stratford, we spent the weekend visiting friends and packing. It was actually cheaper to ship our things from Canada than it would have been from the US. Something about being a member of the Commonwealth. Their money had a picture of the Queen on it.

Somehow, we got everything we felt we’d need, including my darkroom equipment, packed in fifteen boxes that we could ship to our new address in London. In addition to that, we each had a large suitcase, with one extra for the children. And, of course, I had my three camera cases, Ronda had her dispatch bag, and Patricia had a diaper bag. I shipped the tripods and lights with the boxes. Since we were relocating to work out of the embassy, we could use our black passports upon entering the UK and none of our luggage would be inspected or delayed.

Robert Brice, with whom Ronda and I had traveled to the consulates in Edinburgh and Belfast, met us at the airport and had an assistant who helped with all our bags. Robert was the Minister for Consul Security, so I guess it made sense for him to make sure the new embassy employees were safe with their family and taken to their new home.

“Officially, you wouldn’t report to present your papers to the Deputy Chief of Mission until Monday,” Robert told us as we rode in the small bus he had for us. “But the embassy honors both US and British holidays and Monday is Labor Day. So, plan to be at the embassy Tuesday morning and Lincoln will make you welcome. Don’t forget your badges. The UK embassy and consulates are in 100% compliance.”

“That’s great to hear, Robert. Did our boxes arrive at the apartment?”

“Oh, yes. A bit of a problem when they arrived, but we got them free and delivered. Your friends, Lord Peter and Lady Jane, were helpful. My team inspected the apartment minutely and ran background checks on the housekeeper and the landlords. Of course, everything was completely clean. The Ambassador didn’t want us to disturb the Winkles, but we had to do some checking.”

“I’m sure they didn’t mind. They were off having too much fun on their honeymoon.”

“Yes, so we were told. Now, even though you didn’t need to pass any customs check at Heathrow, I hope you won’t object to having my team scan everything you’ve brought. You’re State Department employees and this is required.”

“Of course. For curiosity’s sake, what do you look for?”

“The whole laundry list: Drugs, weapons, hazardous materials of any sort.”

“You’ll find some hazardous materials,” I said. He looked at me, startled. “I’m a photographer and I have my darkroom setup in a couple of the boxes. That includes developing agents that can be considered hazardous.”

“Oh! You had me worried for a minute. We’ve already scanned the boxes and they came out clean. We’ve got some pretty sophisticated security detection systems,” Robert laughed. I put that in my list of things to tell the film guys. “The best, of course, are the dogs. They’ll be waiting for us at your new home. A quick sniff of each of you and of your luggage is all it will take.”

“Dogs?” Toni asked. “Can we play with dogs?”

“Well, Miss Toni, I’m afraid these are working dogs. They have a job to do and then they go home to their families.”

Toni considered that for a minute.

“Daddy, are you and Mom Ronna working dogs?”

That inspired some laughter and a longer explanation, resulting in the acceptance that we were, indeed, working dogs.

The apartment was immaculate. Penelope Johnson, the housekeeper, welcomed us home and told us dinner would be ready promptly at six. She encouraged us to take a nap, saying we’d feel better by evening. There was enough adrenaline pumping through our bodies from the excitement of moving into a new home that the idea of a nap, though it sounded appealing, was not going to fly. Instead, we unpacked things and moved into our bedrooms.

Toni was impressed that she would have her own big girl bedroom and a ‘princess bed.’ It had a canopy over the top. I was impressed that the room had been equipped with a few toys and some artwork. Toni immediately spotted the large rocking horse.

“Mommy, I have a horse like Aunt Kat’s,” she said excitedly. The room had not been decorated and equipped like this when we stayed here in May, and I had a feeling Peter and Jane practiced putting together a child’s room for Toni.

“Look at the nursery!” Patricia called.

Toni and I moved next door to the room between hers and the master suite. Peter and Jane had definitely been at work. There were both a bassinet and a crib. A dresser was set up as a changing table. A huge rocking chair with a reading lamp and side table occupied one corner. And a colorful mobile hung over the crib.

“Isn’t this sweet!” I said.

“Baby Alex is lucky!” Toni started. I thought she might be about to have a fit, but she brightened quickly. “I have a horse like Aunt Kat’s. Mommy, let Alex nap for a while so you can see my horse!”

Patricia shoved Alex into my arms and followed Toni to her room.

We took a family walk before dinner and explored the park across the street from our home. A playground was not far from the entry to the park and we all just relaxed and enjoyed watching Toni climb and explore. Mrs. Johnson had a lovely dinner ready for us when we returned.

“What is this?” Toni asked when the meal was set before us.

“Well, Miss Toni, the children around here call it ‘Toad in a Hole.’ It’s a yummy sausage baked in a Yorkshire pudding. And these are Old Auntie’s shredded Brussels sprouts, sauteed in butter.”

“Are you Old Auntie?”

“I would be happy to be your Old Auntie.”

“I have Aunt Addie and Aunt Kat and Aunt Vanessa and Old Auntie.”

“She’s not being disrespectful, is she?” I asked Penelope.

“Oh, no, sir. Even the children out on the street on market day call me Old Auntie. My Lady even calls me Old Auntie. Been with the family of the old Earl since he was a pup. Sad that he passed so soon, but My Lady is a suitable heir. And I must say that even though her new husband is a bit ... light on his feet, shall we say, he’s been good for her. Mayhap some day I’ll be Old Auntie to their little one,” Penelope said.

“I hope you will teach Patricia and me how to make this dish!” Anna said. “I love it. And we know absolutely nothing about shopping for groceries here. Can you help us, Old Auntie?” She sounded so sweet, I looked twice at her to be sure she wasn’t being mocking.

“Oh, yes, dearie. We’ll go to market on Friday and I’ll teach you all about the food.”

It was settled. The family had a new Old Auntie.

We’d about gotten settled in by Tuesday when Ronda and I caught a black cab to the embassy. We wore our badges and were admitted as soon as we flashed our black passports. The receptionist called for Lincoln Abbey, the Deputy Chief of Mission. He was out to greet us immediately. There was already a line of people waiting for assistance from various embassy personnel.

“Nate and Ronda, welcome to the American Embassy to the Court of St. James’s in the UK,” he said. “It’s a pleasure to have you aboard.”

“We have papers we are supposed to present to you, Mr. Abbey,” I said.

“Yes, yes. Let’s go straight to the welcoming room. You’ve met some of these folks before, but there are nearly two hundred people who work here in the chancery and at Winfield House, so you’ll be meeting new people for weeks to come, I’m sure. This is a small delegation to welcome you and witness your presentation of papers.”