Frank's Independence Day (The Night Stalkers) by M. L. Buchman Page B

that had probably been one man’s office prior to the Secret Service’s arrival. Gearing up for a potential invasion of Panama had made space a premium at Fort Sam.
    “What I’m thinking… ” she drew out the words in a way that definitely made him think some very nice things.
    God, she was muddling his brain. All he knew was that he wanted to get his hands on Beatrice Ann Belfour and he didn’t care how, as long as it was soon.
    It was a trap. Had to be.
    “I’m thinking that I saw a place on the drive in that’s still running Ghostbusters II. Want to go?”
    “You hate sequels.”
    “You love Sigourney Weaver.”
    Yep. A complete and total trap.

Chapter 18
    Frank: Now
    What do we know about her?”
    “Who?” Frank knew exactly who the President was talking about, but he wasn’t going to let him off that easy. They were effectively alone, walking through the underground corridor that connected the Dag Hammarskjöld Library with the Secretariat Tower. Two agents cleared the corridor ahead and two followed behind.
    “Don’t give me a hard time here, Frank.”
    “Or what, sir?”
    “Or I’ll name Beat the head of my detail when she gets back and put you somewhere you can be of use like an Alaskan sewage treatment plant.”
    Damn he liked working for this man. He took a joke and built in a ray of hope and confidence that Frank sure wasn’t feeling.
    “Kim-Ly Geneviève Beauchamp, mixed French and Vietnamese descent, French side came to Vietnam in the 1930s. Traditional plantation owners. Had to leave to avoid the War and the Reeducation Camps, but the ties were too deep and they came back almost right away. She was born there. Educated John Hopkins and Cambridge, the one in England.”
    “A Cambrian?”
    “Cambrian, sir?”
    “If it weren’t a proper noun it would be a good Scrabble word, with the C, M, and B it’s worth thirteen points and is eight letters long, a good length. If you can find just one letter to play off, you can score an extra fifty point Bingo for clearing your tray. Cambrian is from an old story at Oxford. We always said Cambridge was found by some Oxfordians who couldn’t cut it. So they were banished to the fens, the marshes, and founded a silly little school named Cambridge. Cambrian is an ancient geologic age, out of date, slow. Worse, she’s probably a Cavendisher, one of the all-women colleges at the University.”
    Frank had no idea what he was talking about, but he seemed pretty pleased by it all. Frank turned back to his report. “Straight to UNESCO, now Chief of Unit for World Heritage of Southeast Asia. Very determined lady. Cavendisher by the way is a also proper noun, so you don’t get to use that one either.”
    President Matthews nodded his head and kept his silence as they continued down the corridor. At the stairs they went down one flight to get to the United States Security Center.
    The President was thinking some pretty serious thoughts when he didn’t even smile at a Scrabble-based tease.
    Frank knew that silence. Knew it from deep inside when he’d waited in Texas wondering when he’d get to see Beatrice Belfour again.
    He offered the President the next layer.
    “Thirty-two years old, married once, didn’t stick. Broke off with last boyfriend two weeks after being named Chief of Unit last year. Word is he didn’t like that her career was dusting his, a German named Klaus of all things.”
    That actually got the President to stop right before they went through the outer security door. That caused the other agents up and down the hall some consternation, but Frank flickered an “all okay” sign and just waited.
    Nothing.
    President Matthews’ face was normally intensely expressive, man couldn’t play poker to save his life as his friend Mark Henderson kept proving to him time and again. And right now it was very carefully showing nothing.
    Frank whistled quietly to himself. How long had the President been in conference with her? An hour, a little