"Hey, Bennet." Bingley strode to her and extended his hand.
She shook it and gave him a quick grin. "It's been a while, Bingley."
Kellynch cleared his throat. "Welcome, Agent Bennet. Glad you could join us quickly and on short notice." His slight smile was apologetic, but his eyes were decidedly un-sorry. "You obviously know Agent Bingley. Let me introduce Agent Fitzwilliam Darcy, MI-6. One of their best, if not their best."
Darcy walked to her, his stride, like his earlier nod, lighter than she expected. In fact, his movement was balletic. Surprising for a man so powerfully built. When he drew closer, she whiffed aftershave, a faint scent of Bay Rum.
"Good morning, Agent Bennet." He didn't extend his hand to shake hers, but there was nothing hostile in his British-accented tone…nothing otherwise unfriendly in his manner. He seemed simply to have returned to impassivity. However, she saw his eyes darken as he concentrated on her.
"Please," Kellynch said, gesturing to them all, "everyone,sit. We have a few…items…to talk about." He did so himself, his swivel chair positioned directly in front of the Babel of files towering atop the large desk behind him. Once everyone was seated, he slowly tented the fingers of his hands, assuming a mantis, prayer-like posture, leaning forward and exhaling.
"Agent Bennet, Agent Darcy is here on a mission, one under the auspices of MI-6 but now has immigrated, we might say, to us. Technically, it remains an MI-6 mission. However, the Company will oversee it.” He cleared his throat, his way of eliding red-tape details. “He will explain the mission to you in due course. When his superior contacted me with a request for help here in the US and explained the nature of the help needed, I immediately thought of you. I have been briefing Darcy about you and about your excellent track record?making sure he understands you are the woman for the job."
Although this prompted Charlie to smile at Lizzy, Darcy gave her an appraising sidelong glance suggesting that, even if he didn't entertain explicit doubts or reject the director’s recommendation, he wasn't yet convinced.
Kellynch continued, "I have brought in Bingley because the mission requires logistical support, a third to oversee what is happening, to keep up with equipment, and so on. Also, through an odd coincidence, Bingley and Darcy already know each other. They were in boarding school together in England."
England.Lizzy remembered Charlie had once mentioned spending his childhood abroad as the only child of a diplomat father. The conversation had been at an impromptu LangleyChristmas party. Many people had been talking at once, almost all of them inebriated, and Lizzy had not asked Charlie more about it. But it made sense at the time and made sense now. There was something stereotypicallyBritish, a dash ofBBC,in his quick good manners and easy formality. He was American, to be sure, but with across-the-pond polish.
If Charlie was a dash ofBBC,Darcy?now that Lizzy had a better look at him?was allHouse of Lords.There was something imperial about him in the way held himself, about how he sat in his chair with his back ramrod straight and not resting against the chair at all.The sun never sets on the Empire,she reflected to herself, squelching a smile.He sits beautifully but uncomfortably.She leaned back for the sake of an American contrast.
"That's right," Charlie added, excited. "We lost touch for many years and came back into contact accidentally when a mission of mine in Istanbul crossed wires with a mission of Darcy's there at the same time. We couldn't believe that we ran into each other at all, much less that we were both…in the same line." His tone seemed astonished still.
Darcy's face as he listened did not change, although he did shift his eyes at one point and stared into the distance. Lizzy could not tell whether perhaps he was recollecting the story his old schoolmate told or whether he was bored.
Charlie grinned. "I'm pleased to have the chance to work with him. Withbothof you."
Technically, he and Lizzy had never been on a mission together. Normally, she worked alone. It was how she liked it. She trusted her own spy instincts implicitly and found the necessity of consulting someone else trying. Her professional first impressions were rarely wrong, if ever, and she hated having to justify them to anyone. Better simply to act on them.She had been doing it for years and was still alive. More than alive?the best.
Lizzy smiled at Charlie, determined to make the best of things. If she was destined to be a part of this mission, she was going to be encumbered with help. "Thanks, Charlie. I'm sure we'll make a good team."
Darcy cleared his throat and addressed Kellynch. "I am sure thatAgent Bennetis a fine spy, but, well…"
"Patience, Darcy," Kellynch said. "Why don't you tell us all what it is you need, so thatAgent Bennet"?pausing, he held her name by the edges, imitating Darcy?"can determine whether or not she suits and inform us of her decision."
Darcy lifted his eyebrows, but his shoulders sank almost imperceptibly. Lizzy noticed it and thought she saw a faraway flicker of frustration in his dark eyes. "Of course. I have been trailing a terrorist for several months. His real name, unknown to almost everyone, is George Wickham, but his other name, his alias, is well-known in the intelligence community:The Wicker Man."
Lizzy sat up straight at the name. She did know it. The Wicker Man was a terrorist's terrorist, a killer who plagued the dreams of other killers. He was responsible—or reputedly responsible—for some of the most disturbing, lethal attacks of the past decade. Women dead, children dead, sometimes by the scores. He murdered so as to maximize fear and insecurity, to make victims of everyone who heard the news, not only those within the radius of the bomb blast.Destabilization. So far as Lizzy knew, no one had ever identified him or even had a scrap of creditable intel as to either his identity or his whereabouts.
Charlie was shaking his head. "It's amazing that you've discovered who he is. No one has had a guess."
"Knowing his identity is something, yes, but he can change that easily.” Darcy looked grim. “The man is a chameleon. If herealizes we know who he is, know the name George Wickham, he will kill that name, that identity, and resurrect himself as someone else, perhaps after extensive plastic surgery. This man is not attached to his identity”?he grimaced, the meaning of his expression unclear?“if you understand my meaning. He’s attached to hiswork.
"He's come to the States for reasons that are unclear. Right now, he has no idea that I have identified him, that I am trailing him. I've followed him from Berlin to London to here, D.C."
Lizzy sat farther forward in her chair. "If you know who he is and where he is, why haven't you taken him?"
He turned to her. "The Wicker Man is not only George Wickham, although he is its focal point. The Wicker Man is an international network of terrorists and double agents and informants, a multiple small-branched array of weapons, money, and death. I'm hoping to not only capture George Wickham; I want to bring The Wicker Man to heel." Darcy showed his white teeth in a clench, not a smile. "I want to destroy the whole network. To do that, I need to get close to him; rather, I needsomeoneto get close to him."
"Close to him?" Charlie asked.
Lizzy felt her heart chill. She understood who that someone was to be.
"Yes,closeto him. Wickham has only one weakness. Women.” Darcy’s eyes flickered toward and then away from Lizzy. “In the time I’ve surveilled him, I've discovered this: he's a womanizer. Odd to say, but he’s cautiously, complicatedly so. I need a female agent who can infiltrate his circle. Arouse his interest. Hold it."
Lizzy shifted in her chair, looking at Kellynch and ignoring Darcy. "Just to be clear, sir: you want me…for ahoneypot?"
Kellynch un-tented his hands and put his feet?his heels and not just his toes?on the ground, his gaze keen and commanding.