Chapter 405

There was silence; a long silence, then smiles, and then an outburst.

“THAT SETTLES IT! I am resigning too. I want to stay home with the boys and do my part here,” Jenny said.

The discussion lasted another hour and it was a happy discussion. JBG would be whole for the first time since we had started the business with all of us in the office every day.

I was still behind on my favorite dishes so tonight we went to the big Italian restaurant in Annapolis - just us girls - and the boys who always were great whenever we went out. Tonight I played it smart and reserved one of the rooms. We were recognized but left alone, until we were nearly ready to leave.

A girl - maybe 14 - cautiously came in and made her way to me at the table; she was holding a pen and a piece of paper.

“My name is Rachel McBride and I am attending the summer school for advanced academics. We have been following your trip to Kampala as part of our international events class. We are collecting donations to the Doctors without Borders to put in your collection box. I don’t want to intrude but may I please have your autograph?” as she extended her hand with the paper and a pen.

“I think I have a better piece of paper to use.”

I opened my portable office that was always by my side and took out one of my official State Department embossed and stamped correspondence sheets that I had left. Actually I had several hundred left at home.

(To: Rachel McBride. Be brave; stand by your convictions, hold your head high. We are all equal, no one is better than you. Study hard and learn all that you can for in tomorrow’s world; Knowledge is Power. Ambassador Roberta Jones. August 2’ 2016)

“Do you have a phone?”

She handed me her phone that I handed to Ching Lee - along with mine - who was beaming, watching the event unfold. Ching Lee took several pictures of us with both phones.

I noticed her parents with a younger daughter standing and looking through the door. I waved them in and more pictures were taken.

After the pictures, I picked up the piece of paper Rachael had initially handed me, “May I have your name and address, email and phone number?”

“When you get home you may want to put that in a frame. It won’t be worth any money but it may have sentimental value when you get older,” I said.

At home it was the hot tub, beer, wine coolers and babies. Tonight I was sleeping with Marcy for the first time in six weeks and we were both looking forward to it. It was good to be back to our normal routine.

I woke up Thursday refreshed and full of energy, even though Marcy and I had made up for the long weeks apart. I had the coffee percolating and breakfast finished as my mates arrived at the table.

At seven I was at my desk with VCATS on one screen and SVOL on the other. My first was to Victor to verify the placement of my 40 people next week.

On Monday, twenty were leaving for Bamako Mali and twenty to Rabat Morocco bring the JBG staffs there to 40 persons each.

Marcy would be happy because on Monday the State Department would be paying the salaries of those additional men.

I paged both Ambassador Howard Rambo at Rabat Morocco and Ambassador Steven Crow at Bamako to verify that the accommodation upgrades were complete. The calls lasted an hour each.

I was now one of them, with invitations to come visit and stay a couple of days. The invitations were genuine, not just being courteous.

I had just finished the conversation when Ching Lee came in.

“We have a problem developing in Rochester. It started three weeks ago but Kelly straightened it out, or we thought he had.”

“The group from the development across from the college started getting sloppy, leaving trash and posters on the fence Sunday evenings.”

“He told the artist that they were in violation of the agreement and that they would be arrested for littering and the agreement canceled. That worked until last night.”

“Yesterday late afternoon they covered the fence with posters and this morning the place is trashed and the posters are still on the fence. As you know, the posters were not to be put up until Saturday morning,” Ching Lee said.

“Let me make a call,” I replied.

I tried to call Aadam Mohamed on the cell number I had; the call went directly to the mail box that was full. The phone was turned off or the battery was dead.

I called Frank to see if his group knew anything, there were still several of them working within Kelly’s group.