In a typically dreary Moscow government building, a small group of aging Party leaders sat around a plain wooden table strewn with file folders and black and white photographs. They had in common an air of weariness and quiet desperation. At the head of the table stood a somewhat younger man, perhaps forty-five years old, whose very presence seemed to challenge their dejection. "Now," he intoned, "let me show you the key to our regaining control of the Soviet Union and stopping this ruinous rush towards dissolution!"

"You had better be right, Tsiguloff," one of the others said.

Tsiguloff ignored the implied threat. He gestured towards the soldier standing guard at the door, and said, "Bring him in."

The guard opened the door, and an elderly gentleman shuffled into the room. He was dressed in comfortable clothes of current American design. "Good evening, comrades," he said with a slight bow. "I am Dr. Yuri Andreyevich."

A ripple went around the table as those seated looked back and forth between Andreyevich and the photographs spread before them. At last the same man who had spoken earlier grunted in apparent satisfaction. He said, "Perhaps you are right, Tsiguloff, despite your inexperience with these matters. Perhaps we may salvage the situation after all."

* * * * * *

It was late autumn in 1991. With a swiftness that boggled the mind, the attempted coup against Soviet Premier Gorbachev the previous August had precipitated the dissolution of the Soviet Union. All that was left was the paperwork -- Come midnight on December 31, the once-fearsome Soviet Union would be no more. Lee Stetson wasn't entirely sure he believed it, but his wife Amanda kept assuring him that the world was becoming a safer place for future generations.

"Oh, come on, Lee," she chided gently from her desk in the Q-Bureau. "You don't mean to tell me you really like having the world on the brink of nuclear annihilation all the time."

Lee, standing across the room from her, with a sheaf of papers in his hand, shook his read ruefully. "Of course I don't. But at least then you knew who you could trust, who your friends were."

Amanda walked over and stood next to him. "I'm your friend," she said, giving him a sultry smile totally out of keeping with her words.

"Mmmmm, that you are," he agreed. "And a whole lot more." He dropped the papers on his desk, slipped his arms around her from behind and ran his hands over her body, pausing to caress the gentle curve of her belly, swelling now with the growth of their child. The baby wasn't due for another five months, but as thin as Amanda was, she and Lee joked that she had been "showing" since the moment of conception. Amanda leaned back into his embrace, and he nuzzled and kissed her neck. After a brief time he released her, though he was clearly disinclined to do so. When Lee was sure she had her balance, he stepped away from her and, with a martyred sigh, turned her around to face him. She looked at him questioningly and he cocked his head and said dramatically, "Office mode...."

Amanda smiled her repentance -- after all, she had started it -- and then teased, "You're incorrigible."

Lee winked at her, and at that moment, the door to the Q- Bureau opened, and their boss, Billy Melrose, walked in, followed by Francine Desmond.

"'Morning, Lee, Amanda. Too much free time on your hands?" Billy asked good-naturedly.

"We were just going over the overnight news flashes," Lee said, nodding towards the somewhat untidy pile of papers on his desk.

"Uh-huh, news flashes," Amanda confirmed. Francine rolled her eyes, and all four of them grinned. After a year of hiding their marriage from everyone who mattered, Lee and Amanda had tired of the lying and sneaking around and had staged a second, "public," wedding three years ago for family, friends, and co-workers, becoming Mr. and Mrs. Stetson to the world as of that date. Since then, it had been a running joke for them to continue to pretend at work that they did not have a personal relationship. They were all business when they needed to be, so no one in the department begrudged them their private moments.

"Well," said Billy, "then I presume you saw this one." He handed a sheet of paper he had brought with him to Amanda.

"The I.E.C. meeting in New York? It sounds pretty ordinary. Is there something special about it?" she asked, handing the sheet to Lee.

"The International Economic Community is meeting this week to discuss, among other things, economic and humanitarian aid to the Soviet Republics," Francine explained.

"Soon to be former Soviet Republics," Lee said, with a nod to Amanda. He looked back at Billy and continued, "From everything I've heard, they're all going to need a lot of help, and a lot of food just to keep from having major starvation problems this winter."

"And if they don't get that aid, starvation and riots may be just the excuse the hard-liners need to take over again. They might not be able to restore the Soviet Union, but if they take over Russia, we'll be back just about to square one," Billy said.

"How does the I.E.C. come into all this, then?" asked Amanda.

Francine answered, "I.E.C. recommendations carry a lot of weight with most of the First World governments that are going to have to bear the brunt of the aid packages. Moscow knows this, and they've asked Dr. Yuri Andreyevich to address the conference. Andreyevich is a former 'peacenik' who was expelled from the Soviet Union, and has been living in the United States."

"Didn't he win a Nobel Prize a couple of years ago?" Amanda asked.

"Right," said Lee, snapping his fingers. "The Peace Prize. The Soviet Regime really didn't like his influence in the country. That's why they kicked him out. How come he's working for them?"

"He's not," Billy said. "He is speaking on behalf of the Russian people. Anyway, the point is, we've got rumors from half a dozen sources saying that there may be some attempt to disrupt this conference." He looked as though he were about to continue, but abruptly, he stopped and turned towards Amanda. Nodding pointedly towards her middle, he asked, "How are you feeling, Amanda? No morning sickness at this point?"

Puzzled, she replied truthfully, "No, sir. None for weeks. I feel fine."

"Good," said Billy. Turning to Lee, he continued, "I want you two to go up to New York and check out these rumors. Talk to Andreyevich, nose around. See what you can find out."

Lee looked uncomfortable, and began, "Billy, Amanda's not--"

"Lee," Amanda inserted in a warning tone.

Billy looked from Lee to Amanda. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"Yes, there is," Lee began.

"No, there is not," Amanda countered firmly. "When do we need to be there?"

"Your flight leaves from National in two hours," Francine told her.

"We'll be on it," Amanda said with a sideways glance at Lee, who maintained a stony silence.

Billy looked from Amanda to Lee and back again, and then appeared to shrug mentally. "You can pick up your equipment kit downstairs at Mrs. Marsden's desk. Francine will fill you in on the rest of the details."

He left the room, and Francine waited patiently while Amanda made a quick call to her mother. Dotty West was now living in her own home, but visited often and served as back-up for Lee and Amanda when they needed to travel. The boys had grown accustomed to arriving home from high school every now and then to find a "Call your grandmother" note on the refrigerator.

Lee busied himself studiously with tidying his desk while Amanda explained the situation briefly to her mother.

"No, Mother," she concluded. "I think the boys should be all right by themselves this time. There's plenty of food in the freezer, and we'll probably only be gone a day or two." She glanced at Francine for confirmation of this last statement. Francine nodded, and Amanda continued with barely a pause, "Just give them a call to make sure they're doing okay." Amanda stopped a moment, only half listening to her mother's reply. She smiled affectionately, knowing that Dotty would undoubtedly do more than just call to check on the boys, and then she resumed talking. "Uh-huh. I'll let you know if there are any changes, and I'll call you with the phone number when we get there. I love you too. Goodbye, Mother."

"You give you mother your phone number when you're on assignment?" Francine asked.

Amanda shrugged. "For emergencies only," she said. "And only on assignments like this that aren't classified."

Francine gave her a look that said, "To each his own," and then said aloud, "Shall we?"

Amanda followed Francine out of the Q-Bureau, and Lee brought up the rear, still radiating an air of unhappiness. Francine's voice echoed on the stairs as she briefed them on the details of their assignment.

* * * * * *

During the drive back to the house in Arlington to pick up their luggage, Lee kept the conversation trivial while he tried to organize his thoughts. He wasn't ordinarily very good at analyzing his emotions, but he knew he had to this time if he was to have any hope of convincing Amanda to stay home.

The one thing he knew for certain was, he didn't want Amanda to go on this assignment. He knew he was being over protective. He couldn't help it. He was just plain scared. This pregnancy was their second; she had miscarried the previous year at about twelve weeks. And that loss had brought home to him how very much he wanted to be a father, and how much he wanted Amanda to bear his child. He suspected that if they lost this baby too, it would be their last chance. Realistically, Amanda was getting older, and the boys were almost grown. To ask her to try again.... Amanda's OB had told them that there was no reason to think that this pregnancy was particularly fragile, but Lee just couldn't help worrying, even though they had passed the three-month milestone.

They reached the house after driving the last few miles in silence. Amanda went into the closet to pull out their pre-packed suitcases, and Lee rushed over to take them himself.

They stood looking at each other for a beat, and then Amanda said gently, "Lee, I'm pregnant, not sick."

"I know. I know. But this isn't like working around town, there's the plane and the airports, and we'll be running all over the hotel and conference center.... Amanda, wouldn't it be smarter to sit this one out?" he pleaded.

"We went over this with Dr. Studen. She says everything is going fine, and--" and here she hesitated, "and, what happened last time shouldn't affect this baby. Except for my age, I don't even fit into any high risk categories." Lee looked unconvinced, and she tried honesty along with reason. "I want this baby as much as you do, you know that, and I'm as nervous as you are, too. But how can we enjoy this time if we let our worry rule our lives? The doctor says it's okay," she repeated. "And it's not against Agency policy, either. As long as there are no complications, I can stay in the field on fact-finding assignments until the seventh month."

Lee's face was a study in contrasts, and Amanda could see that he was struggling with a tangled mix of emotions from anger and stubbornness to love and the desire to protect her. She reached out and laid her hand on his arm. "This is an economics conference," she reminded him, her eyes begging him to understand her need to come along, a need she didn't really understand herself. "How dangerous could it be?"

Lee stood looking at her, assessing the situation. Amanda, like Lee himself, rarely allowed anyone to dissuade her from a course of action she was set on, and he could see that she felt strongly about this. She didn't want to be protected just because she was pregnant. Was that all there was to it? "Just" a show of fitness? He wondered suddenly if that was her way of coping with her fear. She was right, at least, that the doctor had told them there were no restrictions on her activities. He sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just that I love you so much...." He picked up her suitcase and handed it to her. He shook his head and continued, "I thought I'd learned to cope with our work being dangerous, but this is a whole new ballgame."

Amanda's smile as she took the case was blinding. After all the early years of being told to "Wait in the car," or "Go home, Amanda," she understood how strong his protective instincts were, and how hard it must have been for him to give in. She reached out with her free hand and caressed his cheek in thanks. "I love you," she said.

"I love you, too," Lee whispered, faint apprehension crossing his face.

"Stop worrying," she told him with a smile, "and go leave a note for the boys."

* * * * * *

The trip to New York City was uneventful. Amanda even managed to grab a short nap during the flight, something of which Lee highly approved. He insisted on lugging both suitcases through the airport, but since Amanda had won the major victory, she took this with good grace and walked along at his side to the rental car pickup. Driving in New York was not one of Lee's favorite occupations, or Amanda's, for that matter, but in a situation as fluid as this one was likely to be, they both felt it was wise to have options.

It was early afternoon by the time they were settled in their hotel room and had changed from comfortable traveling clothes to attire more suitable for the role of reporters from a national magazine, which was to be their cover at the I.E.C. Conference. Amanda had reached a compromise on clothing for this difficult stage in her pregnancy -- too small for maternity clothes, but too large for her normal fitted clothing. She was wearing a cream-colored skirt in a size larger than she usually wore, with a silk overblouse of pale peach that hung naturally enough that a casual observer would not notice the thickening of her waist. Lee, on the other hand, was wearing jeans and a green plaid casual shirt.

"Now," Amanda began, giving him an admiring glance. "Francine said our interview with Dr. Andreyevich is arranged for four o'clock today. You've got the camera, I've got the tape recorder...." She smiled, remembering how many times in the past she had been the one to play photographer while Lee had taken the lead. She relished the role of being an equal partner, though by now it was nothing new. "It's only two now," she said. "What do you want to do until then?"

"That's a leading question if ever I heard one." Lee grinned suggestively, and Amanda shot him a look of affectionate exasperation. "However," he continued, undaunted, "what we should do is go downstairs and check out the meeting rooms where the conference is being held, the banquet room for tomorrow night, and maybe talk with the security team and see if they've seen anything unusual."

"Sounds like a plan," she replied.

Lee smiled and opened the door. Amanda collected their equipment and joined him. As they stepped into the hallway, he put his arm around her waist and escorted her to the elevator. They headed downstairs to the Concourse level to find the meeting rooms.

The rooms weren't hard to find, given the amount of security around the area. Their press passes were scrutinized, and their names were checked against a list of expected visitors. Neither of them was particularly surprised to find that they were also expected to pass through a metal detector to get into the area of the hotel set aside for the I.E.C. conference. The credentialed delegates, however, had their own entrance, and were not subjected to the same search because they held diplomatic status.

The camera and tape recorder received some attention from the guards, who seemed to be a little overzealous, but in the end both passed. Lee had deliberately left his gun behind in anticipation of such a search, so eventually the two "intrepid reporters" were allowed into the conference without having to pull a "public's right to know" temper tantrum. As they entered, they were handed a program with a schedule of the meetings and a map of the conference rooms.

"Well, they seem pretty serious," Amanda commented while they worked their way through the corridors, peering at the map. "Is this the Astoria Room, do you think?" she asked, pointing at a smudgy legend.

Lee looked over her shoulder and shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Is that where they're discussing Soviet relief?"

"One of several places, as near as I can tell," Amanda said, studying the program. "Economics was never my strong point. I'm sure these titles would make more sense to Joe." Had she been looking, she might have seen a flicker of competitiveness pass across Lee's face at the mention of her ex-husband.

Lee oh-so-casually glanced over the list before he admitted, "You might be right about that. 'The Laffer Curve As Applied to Third-World Debt'? What's that supposed to be about?" Amanda shook her head in mystification, and Lee continued, "I guess we'd better just have a look in all the rooms. It makes sense, anyway. Anyone trying to get in here might just be biding his time in one of the other meetings until the right time comes along."

"Whenever that is," Amanda added.

"Come on," Lee said. "Let's see if we can check all the rooms out before we have to meet with Andreyevich."

They walked from room to room, checking the layout, doors, and delegates as inconspicuously as possible. Other people were also moving around, so they attracted little special attention. In one room, Lee stiffened slightly while appraising the delegates, and when they were back in the corridor, he said to Amanda, "Did you see those two in there? The stocky ones with the bad suits?"

"Uh-huh," she acknowledged. "Do you know them?"

"They're the Stoliarchuk brothers. Veniamin and Sergey. They're Ukrainian by birth, but they've worked free-lance for anyone in the Eastern Bloc for, oh, I'd say about ten years now."

"Are they dangerous?" Amanda wanted to know.

"They never have been before," Lee had to admit. "They've always been simple information brokers. People change sometimes, though," he told her with a shrug. "They could be working for anyone...."

"I'll go call Francine and see if we can get a last known employer," said Amanda, indicating the row of telephones down the corridor.

Lee nodded in agreement. "I'll meet you back here."

While Amanda made the call, Lee went to check the rest of the rooms. When he returned he reported, "Nothing suspicious for now. Anything on the Stoliarchuks?"

"Francine's checking, but it will probably take a little time. There was nothing on the priority lists." Amanda spread her hands out placatingly.

Though he understood the reason for the delay, Lee grimaced at it. He would never have admitted it even to himself, but he wanted to wrap this assignment up in a hurry and get home.

Seeing his irritation, Amanda looked at her watch. "Well, I guess we should head upstairs to see Dr. Andreyevich," she said.

They filed back out through security, and took the elevator up to Andreyevich's tenth-floor room, which was coincidentally on the same floor as their own room. As they walked down the corridor, Lee grumbled, "Ah, the man's a Russian. If anything is going on, he's probably in on it. I don't know why we have to bother with this charade."

"You're just jealous because I get to be the reporter," Amanda responded, hoping to gently tease him out of his mood.

Her tactic partially worked, at least. Just as they arrived in front of Andreyevich's room, Lee paused and said archly, "Photographers have been known to win the Pulitzer too, you know...."

He broke off abruptly as they realized that the door was not completely closed. Even before Lee gestured with his left hand -- the hand which he was acutely aware was not holding his gun -- Amanda had plastered herself against the wall next to the door. After an instant of eye contact confirmed they were both ready, Lee pushed the door open carefully.

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not what he saw: A gray-haired gentleman, rather frail-looking, seated comfortably at a table near the window, writing on note cards, his left hand curled around in the distinctive posture required by left-handed penmanship. There was no sign of danger or disruption. Lee's puzzlement showed on his face, and Amanda moved forward to peer into the room. The old man remained engrossed in his notes. They both rapidly came to the same conclusion, and after Lee adjusted the camera so that it was hanging more naturally, Amanda raised her hand and knocked on the open door. "Excuse me," she called. "Dr. Andreyevich?"

He looked up from his work then, and said, in accented English, "Yes? You were looking for me?"

"I'm Amanda Stetson, and this is Lee," she told him, avoiding making their relationship obvious. "We're here to interview you, sir. I believe our magazine made the arrangements." She paused briefly as the Russian continued to study them. "Uh, the door was open...." she added, embarrassed now at having come in unannounced.

Andreyevich came across the room and examined both of them, and then announced with a bright smile, "Ah. So, he is your main squeeze."

Lee and Amanda exchanged a quizzical look. "I beg your pardon?" Amanda asked, unsure if she had understood him correctly through his accent.

"He squeezes the shutter on the camera, does he not?" Andreyevich explained.

Amanda laughed, saying, "Oh, uh, right, he's the photographer. He's here to take your picture." She gave every impression of having found the joke to be charming.

Lee, however, was barely able to disguise his expression of irritation, as he thought to himself, This guy's been watching too many old movies. As Andreyevich closed the door and ushered them in, Lee began to pace the room, eyeballing the suite as if considering camera angles. "Shall we take a couple of photos first?" he asked Amanda.

"I don't know," she said. "What do you think, Dr. Andreyevich? Would you like to do the interview first, or the photos?"

"Perhaps," he suggested to Lee, "you could take photographs while we talk. It may be better that the photographs are candid. My friend Medvedeslovsky, who is here, by the way, for the conference, says that I look like a statue of Lenin when I pose for the camera."

"All right," Amanda agreed, "let me get my tape recorder set up, and we'll talk. Should we sit over here on the sofa?" She directed the question to Lee.

"Yeah, that's fine. The wall behind you is nice and neutral," he said, continuing to pace. "Good backdrop."

Amanda and Andreyevich sat down and Amanda started the tape recorder. "So," she began, "if I understand this correctly, you're here to ask the I.E.C. to send aid to the Soviet Union to help them through the coming winter."

"No!" he corrected with passion. "I am here to plead with the Western nations to provide food and other necessities of life to the people of the republics which were formerly part of the Soviet Union! Since the coup, everything is breaking down, transportation, distribution. People are hungry now. People will starve this winter without Western aid! Seventy years of Soviet rule have bankrupted the Republics."

"That's a pretty harsh assessment," Amanda commented, speaking carefully for the tape recorder.

Lee, who had been snapping away during the speech, took several more photographs as Andreyevich took a breath and smiled wistfully.

"But accurate, I think," Andreyevich said. "My family is still in Russia. I hear from them sometimes, when it is possible. My wife is dead, but my children, my grandchildren -- even one great-grandchild -- all remained behind when I was expelled from the Soviet Union."

"But why?" Amanda asked, full of compassion.

"Russia is their home," he said simply.

"I'm sorry," Amanda told him, and even Lee looked sympathetic. "Tell me about the kind of aid you'll be asking for," she said.

As Andreyevich began to talk about loans, and food aid, distribution problems, and problems with local Communist Party members who were having trouble accepting the changes that were happening in their country, Lee once again began to pace. By this time his instincts had convinced him that Andreyevich was genuine, and Lee felt that they were wasting their time and the Russian's. He hung the camera from its strap over one shoulder in preparation for departure as soon as he could arrange for them to leave without breaking cover.

While Amanda became engrossed in conversation with Andreyevich, Lee prowled the room. He peered out the window (an unremarkable view ten floors down to a large swimming pool); listened discreetly at the front door for signs of activity in the hall (nothing unusual); eyeballed the notes that were spread out on the table in the corner (apparently for Andreyevich's speech the next evening); and finally, still restless, moved to sit down at the table and take a closer look. As he did so, the camera strap on his shoulder slipped, and the camera swung around sharply, knocking into a glass that was sitting on the table next to the notes. The glass broke into numerous fragments and liquid went everywhere, and Lee cursed under his breath.

Amanda and Andreyevich broke off, startled. Andreyevich was on his feet even as Lee was saying, "Please, don't bother, I'll clean it up. I'm very sorry."

Andreyevich gestured to indicate he was not upset, but moved across the room and started picking up pieces of glass. Lee did the same, continuing all the while to apologize. Amanda hurried into the bathroom and came back carrying a trash can and a handful of tissues. "Here," she said. The men dumped the glass into the can a chunk at a time while Amanda dabbed at the spilled water with the tissues. The notecards had been written in ink, and were already smearing.

"What a mess," Lee said, when they were nearly done. "I'm sorry about your notes."

"Oh, it is no problem," Andreyevich responded, reaching for one last chunk of glass. "Everything is up here," he added, pausing with his hand halfway to the trash can to tap his forehead with his other hand. "Ow!" he exclaimed, abruptly returning his attention to the hand with the glass. The razor-sharp shard had slipped in his grip, and in trying to keep from dropping it, he had managed to cut his hand.

Amanda put the trash on the floor and moved in. "Let me see that," she commanded. It was a clean slice between his right thumb and forefinger, primarily on the top of the hand, deep enough to be bleeding rather profusely. She hustled Andreyevich into the bathroom and rinsed his hand under the faucet. He allowed her ministrations without protest, perhaps enjoying the long-missed sensation of having someone fuss over him. Lee had followed and was standing in the doorway, feeling rather useless. Amanda asked, "Lee, could you go check my purse? I think I've probably got a couple of Band-Aids in it."

Lee nodded, and went to search the purse. Andreyevich watched him as he left, and then glanced covertly at Amanda. His eyes lit up in speculation. She had not asked the photographer to bring the handbag, but to look through it. A very personal invitation, he thought....

After packing some tissue around the cut to help stop the bleeding, Amanda brought Andreyevich back out into the bedroom and had him sit down. "Look, I know you probably think I'm being silly, but that's a nasty cut, and there's always the possibility you'll start to feel lightheaded," she explained.

From across the room, Lee called, "Amanda," and she twisted to face him. As she did so, her blouse pulled tight and clung to her stomach, delineating her condition for anyone who might have been looking. Andreyevich was -- particularly since, seated as he was, it was in his line of sight.

"You are with child?" he asked with interest.

Lee's gaze shifted from Amanda to Andreyevich, his protective instincts showing clearly on his face. Amanda, however, had been thinking about the cut, and Lee's search for bandages, and it took a moment for the question to register. "Huh?" she inquired.

Andreyevich, having seen Lee's expression, and noting Amanda's puzzlement, continued, "I'm sorry, is not polite, I know, but I couldn't help noticing." He gestured towards Amanda with both hands, one of which was holding a pile of tissues wrapped around the other. "I have just learned that my granddaughter will have another child next summer. I worry that she does not eat properly."

"Oh, but that's very important. She has to eat well. The baby needs proper nutrition to be healthy." All thoughts of bandages fled as both Amanda and Andreyevich indulged briefly in talk of pregnancy and babies.

"This is your first child?" he asked after a few minutes, shifting the topic back specifically to Amanda and her pregnancy.

"I have two teenage boys from a previous marriage. But this will be our first," she told him, smiling at Lee, who had by now crossed the room carrying her purse.

Lee couldn't decide if he was annoyed with her for revealing their relationship to this stranger who was the subject of an inquiry, or if he was instead bursting with pride over the baby and Andreyevich's obvious paternal-like approval. Pride won out, and he moved close behind Amanda, dropping the purse on the table and putting his hands on her waist.

"Ah, it is your child she is carrying," Andreyevich said to Lee with a smile, all the pieces having finally fallen into place. "So, my little 'squeeze' joke was correct, no?" Lee and Amanda both had to laugh with him in agreement. Andreyevich turned then to Amanda. "Your baby must certainly be born strong and healthy, and very handsome, with such a father."

Amanda's grin couldn't have been wider. Nodding for emphasis, she agreed, "Yes. Very handsome, I'm sure, and, I hope, very healthy." Even though Amanda couldn't see Lee's face, she wasn't the least bit surprised when he cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"Amanda," he said, hefting her purse. "I couldn't find any Band-Aids in here. Maybe we should call the main desk and have the hotel send up a first aid kit."

"Just let me look first," she suggested, rummaging through the purse and coming up in triumph with two Band-Aids.

"Leave it to the ladies," Andreyevich declared. "I could never find anything my Ludmilla carried in her bag, either."

"Amen to that," Lee concurred.

Amanda removed the tissues from Andreyevich's hand then, and saw that the bleeding had pretty much stopped. She covered the cut with the two Band-Aids; they just about sufficed. "There," she said. "I think calling for a first aid kit is probably a good idea, I'm sure this could use a better bandage. But at least it shouldn't bleed too much now, and this will keep it clean."

Andreyevich promised to have the cut attended to, and they all decided to call it a night. Lee avowed that he had a nice selection of photographs, Amanda expressed her pleasure with the interview, and Andreyevich told them they were a very nice young couple, and he wished them well.

"I'll be looking forward to your speech tomorrow night," Amanda told Andreyevich as they stepped out into the hallway.

"I am delighted such a charming lady will be on my side," he said. "But I'm afraid that all that matters is that the delegates listen, and act."

"Good luck," Lee told him. "I'm sure everyone will do the right thing."

"Ah. You are a romantic," was Andreyevich's reply. "But I shall try to believe you." With a wistful expression on his face, he closed the door.

Lee and Amanda strolled back to their own room to drop off their equipment before going to get dinner, each thinking about Andreyevich, and what he had said. "It sure makes you grateful to live in America, doesn't it?" Amanda remarked when they had reached their room and Lee was fumbling with the key.

"Mm," Lee agreed. He opened the door widely, and they walked into the room. "And it also makes you realize why Moscow asked him to speak at this conference. He makes you realize this is about people, not politics."

Amanda hid her smile as she realized that Andreyevich had indeed accomplished something remarkable to have her husband speaking so charitably of those he would once have dismissed out of hand as "Communists." Encouraged, she declared, "So if someone is trying to disrupt this conference, we'd better find out who and how."

"After dinner," Lee said firmly, putting the camera into a drawer and gesturing for Amanda to add the tape recorder.

"After dinner," Amanda smiled.
 
 
 
 

Down the hall, inside yet another room on the tenth floor, Yevgenie Tsiguloff also smiled. Things were going according to plan, and he was very pleased. "So, Dimitri," he said to the young man standing across the room from where he sat, "Our friend is safely settled?"

"Yes, Comrade," Dimitri replied. "Everything is set for tomorrow. But," he added, "I am concerned about...our friend. He looks the part, and his speech patterns are close enough, but he will not pass close scrutiny. There has not been time to brief him well enough to avoid arousing suspicion if he must talk with anyone who knows the subject."

"It will not be a problem, Dimitri," Tsiguloff replied. "He merely needs to be in the room long enough for the target to arrive...."

"And when the target is destroyed?"

"We will have accomplished our goal. Our friends in Moscow will be very pleased....."
 
 
 
 

After a leisurely dinner in the hotel dining room, Lee and Amanda conducted a discreet survey of the overnight security arrangements for the conference. They came away satisfied that the main entrance would be well-guarded all night. Lee wanted to see if there were any back entrances to the conference area, so they sneaked through a service corridor and around to the rear of the Concourse level. Once again, they could see no obvious problems.

"This is hard to do when we don't have any idea what someone might be planning," Amanda remarked on their way back upstairs.

"I know what you mean," Lee said. "If you wanted to disrupt an economic conference, what would you do? Plant a bomb?"

"Maybe." Amanda frowned slightly, considering the likelihood. "It would be pretty hard to get one in past all this security. I have to hand it to them, they really are doing a pretty good job. The possibilities for trouble are endless, though. Kidnap someone, blackmail a delegate into presenting misleading information...."

"Kill someone," Lee interrupted. "Someone important. Important enough to have the U.S. screaming for blood."

"It's possible," Amanda said. "There are supposed to be a lot of dignitaries at the banquet tomorrow night. We could get a list of them from the I.E.C. information office tomorrow morning, just in case."

"We can get a list of them tonight from the Agency."

"At least we would have some idea if anyone is coming who might make a good target," Amanda reasoned, knowing that they were simply going to have to cover all the bases. If the dignitaries were all minor, then they could concentrate on other possibilities.

Back in their hotel room moments later, Amanda kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed. Lee gave her a smile that promised much, and then picked up the phone and dialed I.F.F. After asking to have the guest list faxed to the hotel, he checked for an update on the Stoliarchuks. He looked disappointed as he hung up the phone.

"Well?" Amanda prompted.

"Ah, they're clean," he said. "Last known contact is with Yeltsin's people, and they certainly have nothing to gain from disrupting this conference."

Amanda smiled at him in sympathy.

"Look, why don't you get ready for bed," Lee suggested. "I've got to go down to the lobby and meet that fax. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay," she said, grinning. "Hurry back."

"You bet I will," Lee promised with a wink.

* * * * * *

The next morning, Lee and Amanda discussed options as they were getting dressed. The list of special guests had revealed five or six possible targets, including two Senators and the Chairman of the House Foreign Aid Committee, so they couldn't scratch the possibility of murder or kidnapping off their list. They planned to discuss security measures for the banquet with the authorities in charge, with Agency i.d. cards flashed if necessary. (Lee rather hoped it would be; if the guards would talk details with reporters, it didn't say much for the secrecy of the arrangements.) Beyond that, they would continue to survey the delegates and look for anything suspicious.

As soon as they arrived on the Concourse level, it was Amanda's turn to see familiar faces. "Lee," she said in a low tone. "Over there."

He looked at the two men going through the security checkpoint. "Yeah, you're right. It's Holst and Gluck."

"Germans," Amanda said.

"East Germans until last year."

"Do they still work for German Intelligence, or are they free-lancing now?" Amanda wondered aloud.

"We'll have to get to a phone and pass them on," Lee said, shaking his head. "Let's wait until they're out of the way before we go through security, though." He led Amanda back around a corner where they could stand inconspicuously, talking casually and consulting the schedule of topics for the day. When next he surveyed the checkpoint, the Germans were gone.

Before Lee could comment, Amanda winced. "Ouch! I'm sorry, Lee, but I've really got to go back upstairs and change my shoes. I thought these would be fine, but for some reason, they really hurt my feet this morning. I'm not going to be able to walk around all day in them."

Lee's expression went from irritation to concern in the flicker of an eye. "Are you all right? Are your feet swollen? That happens sometimes when you're pregnant, doesn't it?"

Amanda suppressed a sigh. "That's ankles, I think, and no, they're fine. Look at them," she said, seeing his skepticism. The next five months were going to be very long, she feared, watching common sense war with worry on Lee's face before he did, indeed, look down at her feet. He looked back at her sheepishly.

"I just haven't worn this pair for a while," she explained, "and I think they've gotten a little bit stiff. You go ahead and talk to the security guards, and I'll go change shoes. While I'm there, I'll call Francine about Holst and Gluck."

"Add them to the list," Lee muttered with a snort. Accepting her division of labor, he headed off to question the security guards.

Amanda stood in front of the elevator, debating whether to take her shoes off in the hallway before she got back to the room. She'd just about decided to do it when the door opened and discharged five or six passengers. One of the first out greeted Amanda cheerfully.

"Ah! It is the lovely Mrs. Stetson," said Yuri Andreyevich. "And where is your husband today?"

Amanda smiled. "Lee's looking for photo ops, as usual. I'll catch up with him in a little while. I need to change my shoes."

Andreyevich nodded and told her, "I go to listen, and to talk with the delegates."

"I'm looking forward to your address this evening," Amanda said, sticking her hand in the elevator doors to block them. She glanced between Andreyevich and the elevator and then told him regretfully, "I'd better go before this elevator leaves."

"Of course you must. Goodbye, Mrs. Stetson," the Russian said, bowing as if he were taking off a hat, as Amanda slipped into the elevator and the door started to close behind her only to be stopped when Amanda inserted her hand in the opening again.

"Dr. Andreyevich, wait," she called, ignoring the impatient glares of those on the elevator with her. When he turned back to the elevator with curiosity she asked, "How is your hand? Did you get it bandaged up all right after we left?"

Andreyevich smiled and displayed his injured hand, which now was covered by a rather expert-looking bandage. "As you see," he said, "I am recovering nicely."

"Good," Amanda enthused, "I'm so glad!" And then, looking around at the faces of her fellow passengers, she pulled her hand away from the door and waved sheepishly as the doors closed and the car got under way.

She rode to the tenth floor with a changing assortment of hotel and conference guests. She was the only one who got out there, and after quickly looking down all available corridors, she slipped off her shoes with a sigh of relief. She padded softly down the hallway towards her room. Shortly ahead of her a door opened, and out stepped Dr. Andreyevich. Slightly surprised, Amanda smiled at him and called, "Gee, Dr. Andreyevich, did you forget something?"

He looked at her blankly, and then said, "Uh, yes, yes I did."

Her mind on changing her shoes and calling Francine, Amanda didn't notice that the room he was coming out of was not his own. "Well, I'll see you later. Lee's probably waiting for me downstairs."

"Um, da, see you later," he said, heading rapidly down the hall.

Something about the encounter seemed rather odd, but Amanda shook it off and dug out her room key.
 
 
 
 

She returned to the conference area to find Lee standing about fifteen feet from the security checkpoint, chatting with several security personnel who were not actually manning the checkpoint. The discussion seemed amiable, at least from a distance, and she assumed that Lee was satisfied with what he was hearing, and also that he'd had to pull rank to get the information. She was right. When she walked up, Lee smiled a greeting and then introduced her to the men and women he was talking to. "This is my partner, Amanda. If you can't find me, talk to her. We're both here to help."

The civilian security employees looked less than convinced of their benevolence, but their deference showed that they were convinced of Lee and Amanda's Agency status. "We won't get in your way," Amanda assured them.

Lee took his cue from that, and agreed, "You seem to have everything under control. We'll go on into the conference now. You'll never know we're here."

Lee and Amanda produced their press passes and got back into the regular entrance line. They were cleared through more rapidly than the day before, but at least the guards made a pretense of it. They spent the morning wandering in and out of seminars with titles like, "Restructuring Aid to Former Communist Nations," "The Role of Transnational Corporations in the Development of Soviet Republics," and "OPEC Price Standards in the Wake of the Gulf War." Aside from lengthening their list of recognized foreign agents or free-lance information brokers, they accomplished very little. Around 11:30, Lee suggested a lunch break, so that they could return to the area during the official noon-to-one-o'clock break period when most of the delegates would be away.

On the way down to the coffee shop, Amanda checked off names on her list: "Okay, we've got Poplofsky, Garbounoff, and Zelenka, as well as Plotnik and Shenkarow. Right?"

"Right. And none of them have direct KGB connections, or anything else that puts them too high on our list of suspects. They haven't exactly been hiding, either." Lee grimaced. "Well, let's call them in," he said, as they passed a phone in the hotel lobby. "Who knows what's new?" They stopped, and Amanda handed Lee the list as he dialed the Agency.
 
 
 
 

Some distance away, across the lobby, Tsiguloff and Dimitri observed the pair with interest. "That is her." Dimitri pointed at Amanda. "The woman who saw Boris. His description was quite accurate. I recognize her. She is American agent."

Tsiguloff nodded. "Amanda King."

Anxious to show his knowledge, Dimitri added, "The man with her is American agent also. Scarecrow."

"Lee Stetson. I will not allow him to ruin my plans!" Tsiguloff was quiet for a moment, and then said, "But perhaps they are less than we fear...."

"I don't understand," said Dimitri.

"They are here as reporters, is that not what you said?"

"Yes."

"It is possible that they are simply reporters. Their behavior is consistent."

"But," said Dimitri, puzzled, "she is his partner. Surely if partners are together, they are working together."

"Ah," Tsiguloff proclaimed, "but she is also his wife. And if one has left the Agency, so might the other, also."

Dimitri considered the possibility. "His wife? Well, many good agents are out of work these days. So many changes. You think this is possible?"

Tsiguloff's face hardened. "I don't know. If they are now reporters, it will be unwise to attract attention to ourselves by killing them. But if they are still working for American government....I will NOT let Scarecrow to disrupt our plans. You will watch them, Dimitri."
 
 
 
 

During the noon break, with the help of the regular security personnel, Lee and Amanda turned all the meeting rooms upside down looking for bombs, hidden weapons, or anything at all suspicious. The largest room, except for the ballroom which was even then being set up for the evening's banquet, had a second-level gallery on both sides. Lee asked about the galleries, and was told that they were strictly off-limits to everyone. He exchanged a look with Amanda, and then he started up the right-hand stairs while she headed up the left, pleased at the normalcy of the action. Maybe Lee was learning to cope after all, she thought.

The two galleries proved uninteresting, except that both Lee and Amanda noted that if someone did manage to sneak up the stairs, he or she would have a good line-of-sight on the speaker's platform. The security chief agreed to post guards on the two staircases, if he could find two extra men, just in case. Just in case of what, they all wished they knew.

When the delegates began filtering back into the conference rooms after lunch, Lee and Amanda drifted away from the security guards, the better to maintain their cover. Amanda checked the program schedule again, and saw that the discussion scheduled for the room they were still in was entitled, "Economic Disaster Relief to Impacted Eastern European Countries." That seemed to have bearing on the Soviet situation, but after everything she'd heard while stepping in and out of presentations for the past two days, Amanda feared it would be far too technical to tell her much.

Lee suddenly stood up straight. "Over there," he said, pointing at a figure heading out the entrance to the room. "Unless I miss my guess, that's Emil Zvonik! And he is definitely KGB!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't see his face." Amanda frowned. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. Look, everyone else we've seen has turned out to have a legitimate reason to be here. Zvonik is KGB, and that means that as of now, he tops the list!" Amanda watched Lee's frustration build. He checked his gun, which he was now carrying since the security forces knew who he was, and then turned to Amanda. "Stay here," he said forcefully, "while I go see what I can find out about Comrade Zvonik!" Before she could even reply, Lee was out of the room.

With a sigh, Amanda sat down in the back of the conference room to see if there was anything to be learned about "Impacted Eastern European Countries." The speaker was both heavily accented and very technical, and Amanda found her mind wandering. She felt a slight fluttering in her stomach, and found herself instantly alert. Was that the baby moving? Or was it just lunch? If she remembered her recent reading correctly, it really was still rather early for her to be feeling baby movement, but it was possible she'd gotten her dates wrong. The doctor had changed Jamie's due date by nearly three weeks.... And the book had said that in later pregnancies women often felt movement earlier than they did with their first baby. So maybe.... She set her hands on her stomach to focus her attention, but didn't feel anything more.

Now, however, with her focus on the baby, she found she was listening more closely to the speaker, trying to understand what he was suggesting, and hoping that everything would work out well, for the sake of the future. For the sake of Phillip and Jamie, and all the other children in the world -- and for Lee's child that she carried within her. Once again she found herself concentrating on her womb, hoping to feel baby move. It bothered her a little that she couldn't remember details from her first two pregnancies, but then, they were half a lifetime ago, it seemed. Phillip was seventeen already, and Jamie fifteen, young men who would be leaving home far sooner than she wanted to think about. You'll hardly know your brothers, she said to the child within.

It was funny how well the boys seemed to be coping with this new development in their lives. In some ways she could understand it more in Phillip. He was nearly through with high school, and already looking to the future. To everyone's surprise, the car-crazy, lackadaisical junior high student had two years ago as a sophomore in high school conceived the idea of attending the Air Force Academy and becoming a pilot and career officer -- and now, with his father in Washington more-or-less continuously the past few years, and Lee as his stepfather in full-time residence, Phillip had gained enough security to improve his grades and "outside activities" to the point where it looked like he had a real shot at gaining admittance to the Academy for next year. They were all tremendously proud of Phillip and his plans for the future. A baby brother or sister wasn't going to impact his life too much, Amanda thought, with a touch of regret. But at least he wasn't showing signs of jealousy -- or embarrassment!

Jamie, the one who had had the hardest time adjusting to Lee's presence in their lives, seemed thrilled about having a baby in the house. He seemed to be looking forward to the baby's birth almost as much as Lee and Amanda were. "It'll be cool having a junior spy around," he'd said when they told him about the baby. Perhaps, Amanda thought suddenly, Jamie viewed the baby as evidence that Lee had truly bound himself to the family.... It would be a romantic notion, coming from a boy whose own father had left, but then, Jamie had always been something of a romantic. Beyond that, though, Amanda supposed that to some extent, he, too, was looking ahead. He'd always been more academically oriented than his brother, and was already thinking about college himself. If Amanda had to predict at this stage, she'd guess that Jamie was going to be a lawyer like his father. Then again, two years ago she would have guessed that Phillip was going to become an auto mechanic or a race car driver, so perhaps Jamie, too, would change his mind. No matter. For another couple of years, Jamie would be at home with them, the bridge between Amanda's two families....

Her old friends thought she was crazy, starting over with an infant at this stage, and there were times when she agreed with them. But, she wanted this baby very much. She loved Phillip and Jamie with all her heart, and she knew this child would never displace them. They would always remain her firstborn and her "baby," as they had been when she and Joe had started their family, and through all the years she had struggled alone, with her mother's help. But she wanted Lee's child too, for a whole complicated host of reasons, not the least of which was the simple fact that those genes should not be lost to the genepool!

Perhaps the strongest underlying drive, however, besides wanting to create a life with Lee, to give him a child, a tangible expression of their love, and wanting to raise that child with him, was the need to have a part of him left should anything happen to him. Normally she didn't think of the inherent dangers of their work, but they were always there in the back of her mind, applied, with typical human illogic, to Lee more than to herself. Now she found she was forced to think about those dangers. She had her unborn child to protect. She sighed. It was more complicated than that, even. She knew she would never deliberately expose herself to danger while she was pregnant. But what about later, after the baby was born?

She and Lee had tacitly avoided discussing that aspect of impending parenthood, probably because both of them knew it was a thorny topic. She could not imagine giving up her career with the Agency and staying home to knit booties; by the same token, she had a strong desire to do just that, to be there for her child, to give this baby as much of her time and energy and attention as Phillip and Jamie had had when they were little. And, she thought, while the orphaned Lee no doubt wanted a full-time mother for his child, he would not be happy about giving up the partnership that was so much a part of his relationship with his wife. She wanted to continue to work with him, as well. But what about the danger? Could they risk leaving their child motherless, fatherless, or both? The likelihood of both of them being killed in the line of duty seemed remote, but that was exactly what had happened to Lee's parents, and their only son still bore the emotional scars. Not surprisingly, Lee had irrationally strong feelings on the subject, and Amanda, too, had worries. But could either of them be happy behind a desk?

Amanda sighed again. No wonder they'd been avoiding the question. She felt another slight rumble. Baby or not, it reminded her that they were not going to be able to sidestep this question for as long as they had the question of their feelings for each other. Well, at least the baby would know he or she was loved! There was not the slightest question of that! She found herself imagining Lee with the baby. Considering how attached he was to Phillip and Jamie, she was certain he would be a very doting Daddy....

While Amanda was woolgathering, some stray movement in the conference room caught her attention. Her concentration brought back to the here and now, she carefully surveyed the room. There! A second flicker of movement, up in the left-hand gallery. She watched for a few more moments, hoping to get a better feel for what was happening. She thought she could see a figure standing in the shadows, watching the proceedings on the floor very intently.

Quietly, she got up and slipped out of the meeting. Flashing her badge at the guard who was now stationed at the stairs, she asked if he knew of anyone who was supposed to be up there. He indicated that he had just arrived and had no idea. After a glance towards the top of the stairs, Amanda started up the steps. Nearing the top, she flattened herself against the wall so she wouldn't present a silhouette in the entranceway of the gallery.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see that there was indeed someone in the gallery, looking out into the brightly lit conference room. The figure was female, and about Amanda's age. She had no visible weapons, so Amanda took the plunge. "All right," she said softly but distinctly without actually entering the gallery, "keep your hands in front of you and step out into the aisle."

The woman spun around, startled, but she recovered quickly. "Amanda Stetson, I presume," she said.

It was Amanda's turn to be surprised. "Yes," she admitted, though she thought that the woman's eyes couldn't possibly be well-enough adjusted to the dark of the gallery to recognize her visually. She entered the gallery then and asked, "Who are you?" When the woman reached for her pocket, Amanda snapped, "Slowly!"

The suspect's hand emerged from her pocket holding a Federal i.d. which even from a distance Amanda recognized as Secret Service. She walked over carefully, still eyeing the presumptive agent warily. "Susan Warwick," she read, "Secret Service. What are you doing here?" she asked, thinking back over the names on the guest list.

Ms. Warwick shrugged. "We brought a team in about half an hour ago, just in case. The First Lady is thinking about attending the banquet tonight, strictly a spur of the moment thing." She shrugged again as Amanda, somewhat chagrined, handed her i.d. back to her. "I.E.C. Security told us you Agency types were here. I'll have to hand it to you, you're good."

"Well, my partner went off chasing the KGB and left me to hold the fort here. I figured I ought to make myself useful," Amanda said. "But, this room is obviously covered, so I guess I ought to go look for him." Warwick nodded understanding, and went back to her post. Amanda headed back down the stairs, privately more than a little disgusted.

There was no sign of Lee in the room, so she left and went down to the hotel lobby. Almost immediately she spied him sitting in a wood-paneled phone booth. As she watched, he hung up the phone, and from his body language, he was as annoyed as she was with the way this case was going. Amanda walked up behind him and lightly ran her hands over his shoulders.

Lee recognized her footsteps, or her touch, or both, and leaned back into her caress for a moment. Then he swiveled around on the stool and stood up, taking Amanda by the arm. "Come on, let's go somewhere we can talk," he said. They walked through the lobby and out onto the street.

"So," she asked delicately, once they were outside, "did you find Zvonik?"

"Oh yeah, I found him," Lee told her, moving rapidly down the street. Amanda followed along, rushing a little to keep up. "He's even still KGB. But it turns out that the Soviet Union is as concerned that this conference goes forward as we are. Their people are going to need that aid, even as individual republics, and they're too realistic to let a little thing like nationalistic pride stand in the way." Lee shook his head. "He's legit. I just heard back from Billy. Dr. Smyth checked all the way up to Gorbachev. We're supposed to give Zvonik any assistance he might need." He rolled his eyes then, and complained, "We're tripping over each other out here. Billy says most of the other names we've had them run checks on also turn out to be legitimate employees of their respective governments." He stopped and pounded one fist into his other hand. "Maybe we should just combine forces with the KGB and have done with it!"

"Oh, Lee...."

He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. "Aah, I'm just frustrated because there really doesn't seem to be any reason for us to be here."

"Well, I can't argue with you there," Amanda said, allowing some of her own frustration to show. "I just flushed a Secret Service Agent."

"What?"

"Uh-huh," she nodded. "They've got a team in because the First Lady is thinking about putting in an appearance tonight."

"Maybe that's it," Lee said. "Maybe she's the target."

"I don't think so," Amanda said decisively. "I'm pretty sure it was a last minute decision, and I don't think it's definite even now. No one could have anticipated her attendance, and according to Billy, rumors of a disruption of the conference have been flying for weeks."

Lee shook his head. "I don't know, Amanda. From where I stand, I just don't see that there's anything wrong here."

"Look, why don't we go back to our room and call the Agency and see what they want us to do. I should probably get an afternoon snack, anyway. We could order from room service." She smiled.

"Sounds fair. Maybe we can get Billy to let us go home."

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" Amanda sighed.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I can't help it. I worry."

"Well, it's nice to have someone to worry about me," she allowed. "Just don't smother me, please?"

"I'll try," Lee said. He took her hand in his and bent down to kiss it, in token of his promise. "Come on, let's go make that call."
 
 
 
 

Dimitri followed until Lee and Amanda entered their room. He waited a moment to be sure they were not coming out again right away and then knocked purposefully on a door two rooms away from Yuri Andreyevich's room. His patterned rapping brought a quick response. A casual observer would have identified the man who yanked open the door as Andreyevich himself.

"Boris!" Tsiguloff's voice came from within the room. "Get back in here immediately!" He grabbed Andreyevich's arm and dragged him into the room, even as Dimitri pushed inside, shoving him along from the front. Dimitri closed the door as soon as he was able, and Tsiguloff rounded on "Andreyevich. You idiot!" he shouted. "Already you were seen once! Have you no common sense at all?"

The man who so resembled Dr. Yuri Andreyevich was at a loss for words, but struggled to give some sort of explanation. "But, Comrade Tsiguloff....It, it, it was the signal. Who could it have been but Dimitri?"

"Never mind," Tsiguloff told him. "From now on you will not approach the door for any reason, understood?"

"Yes, Comrade Tsiguloff."

Dimitri now claimed Tsiguloff's attention. "I have followed Scarecrow and his wife," he said. "They appear to be here on Agency business. They are snooping, but not quite as reporters, I think." Tsiguloff's face hardened into an unreadable mask as Dimitri spoke, and Dimitri feared an explosion. "However, Comrade," he said, "they do not appear to have any idea of our plans. Their searches appear random."

"I will not allow Stetson to interfere with my plans! We will continue. Boris, you will prepare yourself so we can make the substitution for Andreyevich as planned."

"But, Comrade Tsiguloff," Boris said, "I think--"

"Your job, Comrade, is not to think, but to act! Unless we see any sign that Stetson is watching Andreyevich, you will take his place at the banquet, take the first opportunity to get close to Senator Marquardt, and eliminate him. Then we will kill the real Andreyevich, who will leave behind a "suicide note" acknowledging the deed. The Americans will be outraged at this violation of trust, and the subsequent debate will at least delay aid to the Soviet Republics until it is too late to forestall starvation and riots. Then our friends in Moscow will be able to regain control from the old women who have brought us to our present ruin!"

Tsiguloff's voice had been rising as he ran through the litany once again. Dimitri had heard it more than once since their arrival in Washington, and was privately beginning to doubt the validity of the plan. For one thing, he could not see how Boris was going to escape from a room full of people once he had shot an American Senator, even with a silencer on the gun he would smuggle through the delegates' entrance to the conference. Still, Dimitri's job was to assist, not to think. "Perhaps it would be wise for me to continue to watch the Stetsons until it is time to make the switch."

"Yes, Comrade," interjected the assassin. "That way we would be certain of safety."

Tsiguloff shook his head and waved his hand in disgust. "I am surrounded by old women! Go, Dimitri. Go! Report to me by 7:00!"

Dimitri nodded and hastily backed out of the room. Boris decided to clean his gun and then change his clothes, the better to stay out of Tsiguloff's way....

* * * * * *

"Okay, Billy, that's what we'll do. We'll be in sometime tomorrow afternoon to do the paperwork. Talk to you then. Bye." Lee hung up and phone and smiled at Amanda, who was sitting on the bed near him. "We're all set. We stick around for the banquet tonight just to see things through, and head back for D.C. tomorrow."

"I'm glad we're going to the banquet," Amanda told him. "I really did want to hear Dr. Andreyevich's address."

"You like him, don't you?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, I do," she said. "He reminds me a little of my Grandfather West. My mother's father. You'd've liked him."

"I'm sure I would have," Lee said tolerantly. "Any relative of yours...."

"Until you had to listen to too many of his World War I stories, anyway. Come to think of it," she said with an impish grin, "they sounded a lot like your stories. Maybe you'd have gotten on after all!"

Lee looked at her in mock reproach. "I'm not even going to dignify that.... Look," he suggested, "we've got about three hours until the banquet. Why don't we order that snack, and then put our feet up for a while before it's time to get dressed?"

"Sounds good to me," Amanda agreed. She wouldn't have admitted it, but she was tired, and she knew Lee knew it. Lee handed her the phone, and she dialed room service.

They settled for the divine decadence of kicking off their shoes and eating in bed, and when they had polished off the food, they laid down together on top of the blankets. Lee took Amanda's hand and held it in comfortable silence as he often did in bed when they were not occupied with more passionate pursuits. They both enjoyed the feeling of oneness that the simple touch evinced, and found it very relaxing. In just a few minutes, Amanda slipped into a light sleep.

Not being physically challenged by pregnancy, Lee found it easier to remain awake. He listened to Amanda's regular breathing beside him, and smiled. What a difference she had made in his life. If Amanda's old friends thought she was crazy to start a second family, Lee's old friends -- if you could truly count many of them as more than acquaintances -- were equally astonished at him embarking on this whole domestic adventure. Indeed, if anyone had told Lee himself, back when he'd picked Amanda out of the crowd at the train station, that within seven years he would have a wife, a house, a mortgage, and two-point-three kids, he'd have laughed in their face. That sort of 'boring' life was not on the old Lee Stetson's agenda! And yet, he hadn't been this happy on a consistent basis since he was a young child. Amanda gave him room to grow, and the strength to be vulnerable. She shared his life, as he shared hers. He couldn't imagine what his life would be like without her, now. As empty as it had been before he had thrust that package into her hands, probably. That was the stuff of nightmares, and he generally kept his fears locked tightly away. It was unfortunate that this pregnancy was encouraging his imagination to run wild.... Cut that out! he told himself sharply. Everything will be fine.

Amanda stirred, and he rolled over onto his side to study her sleeping face. She was more beautiful to him now than ever before, now that she was carrying his child. If that was an old-fashioned chauvinistic attitude, so be it. It was true.... He watched her contentedly until she opened her eyes.

"Hi," she said with a sleepy smile.

"Hi yourself. Are you feeling more rested?"

"Mmmm-hmm," she mumbled, stretching a bit and yawning. "How about you?"

"Just watching you sleep," he told her.

"That must have been boring." Amanda rubbed her hands over her eyes, then said, "Oh! I forgot to tell you before. I thought I felt the baby move, back while you were chasing the KGB." Lee's eyes lit up, and she hurried on. "I'm probably wrong," she cautioned. "It's way too early to feel the baby moving, I'm sure. It's more likely it was lunch, but it was still pretty exciting."

Reining in his own enthusiasm, Lee laughed, "Well, you know, that chili we had for lunch was probably enough to make the baby move around a lot even if he's not big enough for you to feel under ordinary circumstances!"

Amanda started to say something, and then stopped, her attention focused inward again. After a moment she shook her head. "It's still probably the chili, but I could swear I felt something."

"Do you think I could feel it?" Lee asked wistfully.

"I honestly don't know if there's anything to feel," Amanda said. "But you're welcome to try."

Lee slipped his hand under her blouse and settled his hand on her belly. Perhaps because he knew in his heart they were rushing things, he didn't loosen her skirt enough to have his hand rest on bare skin. They laid there for several minutes before they had to admit there was nothing to feel.

"Count yourself lucky this time," Amanda said to Lee. "If I was sure it was the baby, I'd keep you here waiting until you felt it -- and that can take a long time at first!"

With a grin, Lee reached for the side of her clothes. He unzipped her skirt and peeled it back enough to expose her belly. "Mmmm," he said. "I don't think I'd mind that at all." He bent down and kissed her curving stomach. "You are so beautiful. Did I tell you how much I love you for doing this for me?"

"Just make sure you remember to tell me that in another four or five months when I look and feel like a beached whale!"

"You will always be beautiful!"

"I'll hold you to that," Amanda told him.

Lee gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence -- but he made a mental note to remember to keep up the compliments, nonetheless. Glancing at his watch, Lee said reluctantly, "I guess it's about time to start getting dressed for the banquet. Why don't you rest a little more while I get together all the pieces of my tux?"

Amanda acquiesced, and propped a couple of pillows behind her back, the better to relax and enjoy the view as Lee got dressed for the evening. They'd been warned that this was a full-up formal banquet, and had brought the appropriate evening clothes. Lee was very efficient at getting into a tux, having worn one many times over the years. Amanda smiled to herself as she watched him.

By the time Lee was adjusting his black tie, Amanda was up and about herself. Barefoot, she padded past him and trailed her hand across his backside, watching his face in the mirror as she did so. He lifted his eyebrows encouragingly, and she stopped long enough to lean over and kiss him before she disappeared into the bathroom. Lee went on with his tie, whistling as he fiddled with it.

Almost immediately, Amanda came back out of the bathroom, looking very frightened. "Lee, I think you need to call Dr. Studen," she said, her voice cracking.

Lee looked up in alarm. "What...."

"I'm bleeding," she said starkly. "Not a lot, I'm not hemorrhaging or anything like that. It's not even as much as a period. But I'm bleeding."

"How do you feel?" he asked, obviously remembering all too vividly last year's painful loss.

"I feel fine," she said, "except that I'm bleeding...."

Lee was already gathering up her coat and shoes. "Come on, let's go," he commanded.

"Call Dr. Studen first," Amanda insisted.

"You know what she's going to tell us, she's going to say to go to the hospital," Lee said, drawing on painful memories.

"But she might have some suggestions on which hospital," Amanda said desperately, and Lee finally realized how frightened she was. After her brush with death on their honeymoon, she hadn't been comfortable with hospitals, and here they were in a strange city, without even the small comfort of having a familiar facility and a doctor who knew them.

"All right." He nodded briskly and picked up the phone. "But if we can't reach a doctor in ten minutes, we're going, all right?"

Amanda nodded her acceptance of his terms. Lee couldn't help but notice that his hands were shaking as he punched the long distance number to Amanda's OB back in Arlington. To his relief, her service answered right away. He explained the situation briefly and then gave them the number of the hotel, emphasizing that they needed a response quickly. He knew he was being unfair, but he was too worried about Amanda to be polite. He hated dealing with answering services and on-call doctors in the first place.

Lee hung up the phone, and he and Amanda stood for a moment looking at each other. Then Lee said softly, "Someone will call soon. Come on, let's sit down while we wait." Amanda nodded and they sat down on the sofa. Lee took Amanda's hand and held it tightly. They sat in silence, both self-preoccupied.

Amanda couldn't think of anything but the baby. The prospect of losing this child loomed in front of her, and she was already trying to clamp a lid on the emotional pain she knew she would feel if it happened again. She desperately needed Lee to be strong for her here, and she was frightened that this was one situation where his own fears would not let him be strong. She tried to freeze her emotions into a state of control, at least. One little crack....

Lee was too afraid to think about the baby, so instead he worried about Amanda. Her pale, pinched face immediately brought to mind the physical pain that she had gone through last time. She'd told him later that the miscarriage was much worse than either of her two full-term deliveries. She and Joe had been a product of their times, and the boys had been natural deliveries, Lamaze, the whole nine yards -- and easy, too. The miscarriage had been very difficult, and now it seemed to be happening again. Lee couldn't bear being the cause of such suffering in his wife, even knowing she would have chided him for thinking that way. He gripped her hand tighter, and she met his eyes for a moment.

The need for support that showed in the depths of her eyes frightened him in itself, and he looked away. Lee prided himself on never letting his emotions get the better of him, but he didn't know if he could handle this one. From somewhere in the back of his mind came a series of images from the time, shortly before their first wedding, when he had been infected by the Russians with the genetically engineered -- and lethal -- virus PD2. He and Amanda had had every reason to believe that he would die in a matter of hours, just on the eve of all their dreams. Amanda had found it within herself to stay in control; she had been his rock and support while they searched frantically for the antidote. Afterwards, safe in the loving confines of her home, with her family swirling around them, oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded, Lee had asked her about her stoicism. She had smiled and told him her secret. "I decided there would be plenty of time for tears later, if it came to that," she had explained. "Where there's life, there's hope. And I knew I had to stay strong for you, or I couldn't help you. And then how could I live with myself?"

Sitting on the sofa now, waiting for the doctor to call, Lee thought again about her bravery. What had he called her, back when he proposed? "The bravest woman I have ever known." So. He made up his mind. She deserved a hero, but he would have to do. He would find the strength to give her the support she needed. He took a deep breath and then turned to face her with something like a smile on his face. "Hey," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

He was rewarded with a slight relaxation of the pinched lines of her face, and he found himself relaxing slightly as well. At that moment the phone rang, and he grabbed it without even a glance at Amanda. To his surprise, it was Dr. Studen herself rather than an associate. He spoke to her briefly, and then handed the phone to Amanda. He watched Amanda's face as she talked to the doctor, and was relieved to see a sense of calm come over her. Finally she said goodbye and hung up the phone.

"She says we shouldn't panic at this point. It might not be anything."

Lee couldn't quite bring himself to accept the soothing prospect, but felt some of the tension go out of his body. "Did she say which hospital?"

Amanda shook her head. "She doesn't know New York that well. But she says it doesn't really matter at this point. We should just go to the nearest hospital for OB triage."

Lee didn't like the sound of that -- it conjured up images of medics sorting through the dead and dying in a war or other disaster -- but at least Amanda seemed calmer, which in turn helped him stay more in control of his fear, and it gave them something specific to do. For the same reason, Lee decided to drive their rental car, rather than call a cab: He'd driven in New York often enough over the years to feel comfortable with the general layout, and driving would give him something specific to do.

Before he and Amanda headed downstairs, Lee telephoned Billy back in Washington to let him know they were going to the hospital, and would not be attending the banquet as planned. Since their attendance had been simply follow-through anyway, Billy agreed that there was no need to bring in anyone else to cover the event. Lee cut short the conversation, and Billy anxiously wished them luck.

The trip downstairs seemed interminable, and Lee squeezed Amanda's hand as they waited for the elevator. In the lobby they stopped to ask directions to the hospital before Lee asked to have the car brought up. They waited impatiently for the vehicle to arrive. Preoccupied with their worries, neither Lee nor Amanda noticed their tail.
 
 
 
 

When they were gone, Dimitri walked briskly up to the front desk carrying a woman's handbag awkwardly in front of him. "Excuse me," he said to the clerk behind the counter. He pointed in the direction of the valet parking entrance and asked, "Where did Mr. and Mrs. Stetson go?"

The clerk looked ill-inclined to divulge the information, and so Dimitri continued with his improvised plan to find out where they had gone. "She left bag in my room" -- and here he hefted the purse he was carrying -- "when she interviewed me," he said, "and I see I am too late to catch them."

Instantly the clerk was more sympathetic. "Actually, I don't believe Mrs. Stetson is feeling well," he said. "They asked for directions to the nearest hospital. I offered to call a cab, but Mr. Stetson insisted on driving."

"Oh, dear," said Dimitri, his face a picture of concern. "I hope she is all right. Medicine here is very expensive, is it not? They will surely need her handbag. Perhaps I could take it to them at hospital?" he prompted.

The clerk remarked on his thoughtfulness, and told him where they had gone. Dimitri thanked him profusely, and announced he would go call a cab. As he turned the corner towards the phone booths, he dropped the handbag purposefully in the nearest trash receptacle.

Dimitri strode past the rows of pay phones in their plush wooden booths, and picked up a house phone. He dialed a room number, and for his efforts, was rewarded by the sound of Tsiguloff's demanding voice.

"Well?" Tsiguloff demanded.

"I don't know yet," Dimitri told him. "They have gone to hospital. It could be a trick to throw us off the scent.

"Follow them," was the command. "The banquet begins in two hours. We must decide soon!"

* * * * * *

Lee couldn't help but be somewhat proud of the way he had navigated the streets of New York to get them to the hospital in just a few minutes. He took Amanda's arm and steered her in through the emergency entrance. Now that they were here in the forbidding medical environment, any sense of calmness they had possessed evaporated, but Lee was able to keep his vow to stay strong for Amanda. As a nurse pushed Amanda along in a wheelchair on the trip to the examination room, Lee kept pace and held her hand tightly. From time to time she looked up at him and smiled wanly.

The resident on duty attempted to send Lee out of the room while he did a cervical exam, but Lee refused to go, and Amanda refused to let him leave, so the doctor shrugged and gave in. "All right," he said to Amanda with some satisfaction. "Your cervix seems a little irritated, but you're not dilating."

Amanda let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and Lee asked, "So, what does that mean?"

"It's good that she's not dilating," the doctor explained. "It means she's not getting ready to deliver right now." Turning to include Amanda in his field of view, he continued, "That means you can both relax a little bit. There are a lot of things that can cause bleeding like this, some of them serious, some not. We have a little bit of breathing room now to see what's happening here."

Lee looked down at Amanda and smiled encouragingly, then turned his attention back to the doctor, who was making notes on Amanda's chart.

"Now," the man said, "you're from Virginia?"

Amanda nodded and elaborated, "Arlington."

"When was the last time you saw your doctor?"

"About three weeks ago," she said promptly. "I have another appointment next week."

The doctor nodded approvingly. "Have you been told this is a high risk pregnancy?"

Amanda shook her head no, and added, "Only my age, and since everything's been going fine, Dr. Studen says that's not enough to put me in the high risk category."

At this point, Lee volunteered, "She had a miscarriage last year at about three months."

Before the doctor could comment, Amanda tossed a reproachful look at Lee and told the doctor, "I'm sixteen weeks now, and I've got two teenage sons. They were both full-term deliveries, and Dr. Studen says that makes the odds for this pregnancy better."

Glancing between Lee and Amanda, the doctor chose to be noncommittal. "Well, first trimester spontaneous abortions are pretty common. They usually don't have any ramifications for subsequent pregnancies, especially," and here he nodded at Amanda, "in a woman who has had other children." He finished making notes on the chart and told them, "I want to do an ultrasound now. It will give us a lot better idea what is going on. Have you had one before?"

"No. They didn't do them when I had the boys, and Dr. Studen usually waits a little longer than this unless there are problems," Amanda told him.

"Well, I think you'll find it interesting," the doctor told them.

Amanda found herself back in the wheelchair for the trip to ultrasound lab. This time Lee contented himself with walking alongside her, occasionally touching her shoulder with his hand. Whenever he did, she bent her arm up to put her fingers on top of his reassuringly. Though they were both still concerned about the baby, the fact that they were no longer alone, and that the resident they were dealing with seemed quite competent, had given them a reason to hope that everything truly was going to be all right.
 
 
 
 

Meanwhile, Dimitri had finally caught up with them. He watched as they went along. Dimitri was good at reading people, and he could see the faint traces of worry lines on their faces despite their new hopefulness. There was no likelihood on earth that this was a diversion staged for the benefit of an observer like himself, he was sure of it. He made up his mind and let them go, turning to find a phone.

He telephoned Tsiguloff in Boris' room and told him, "The wife has some sort of female problem, I think. Perhaps with a pregnancy. Whether or not they are agents, they are in hospital for medical reason, I am sure, and will be here for some time. It is safe to make the switch, I think."

"Good," Tsiguloff said. "Return here at once. I will need your help...."
 
 
 
 

"All right now," the doctor began encouragingly. "I'll be running this sensor over your belly to try and get a good angle on the baby and the placenta," he said. "The ultrasound will give us a good picture of the inside of your uterus." Nervous though they were, Lee and Amanda couldn't help but exchange amused glances. This guy had a heck of a good bedside manner. No doubt when he started his practice it would build up fast by word of mouth from satisfied patients!

Lee sat holding Amanda's hand and watching the display in fascination. He didn't know much about a fetal ultrasound -- Hell, he didn't know anything about fetal ultrasound! -- but he was familiar with ultrasound pictures in general from the Agency, and even if he hadn't had a very personal interest in the results, he would have been captivated by the technological miracle.

The doctor tried to interpret the image for them. "Now, there's the baby's head, see, right there. And if you move a little lower, you can see the heart beating. See? Right there. The baby looks just fine, Amanda."

Amanda watched the image and felt the sick fear that had gripped her for the past hour or more lose its power over her. She could see her baby's beating heart. Tears momentarily welled up in her eyes, but a movement from Lee distracted her from them.

Lee leaned forward and jabbed a finger at the screen, slightly lower on the image than where the Doctor had been pointing. "Doc," he said with academic interest, "isn't that another head?"

Amanda looked sharply, and found herself agreeing with Lee's totally nonprofessional identification. She and Lee exchanged a look, and then they both looked at the young doctor.

He squinted at the part of the image Lee had indicated. "It sure looks like it. Let's move the sensor down for a better look. You're right, Mr. Stetson! Congratulations, you're having twins! I thought you seemed a little large for sixteen weeks," he added thoughtfully.

"Twins!" Lee and Amanda exclaimed together as the meaning of Lee's observation hit them with a thud. They turned to look at each other, horror warring with delight on their faces.

"Twins?" Amanda repeated, turning her gaze from Lee back to the ultrasound image.

"Twins," confirmed the doctor, who had continued to scan the picture while Lee and Amanda gaped. "This one looks fine, too. There are two placentas, so they're probably fraternal twins. Now see here, this placenta is somewhat low. That might have something to do with your bleeding. But, lots of times we never figure out exactly what causes an episode like this. The good news is, it's usually not a big problem."

"So, Doc, what does it mean?" asked Lee. "What about the baby -- babies?" He looked at Amanda with a stupid grin on his face.

"Well, they both look healthy, and both placentas look good. They're well-attached, which is one of the things we were checking for. So, chances are, there'll be no more bleeding, and things will continue to go all right, and you'll have two big healthy babies in another 4 or 5 months. By the way, do you want to know the sex?"

Lee and Amanda exchanged a look, and then both said, "No."

The doctor nodded, and then began again. "As I say, both babies look good. The low-lying placenta could be a slight problem, though it may well move up and away as your uterus expands." He paused for a moment, then continued, "You'll want to talk to your doctor, of course, but in my judgment, there's a good chance for a normal delivery, and even if it doesn't move, the worst that's likely to mean is a C-section delivery."

"I'd rather not have a C-section," said Amanda, eyes narrowing at the thought of surgery.

Lee grabbed her hand and said soothingly, "He just said it was a possibility, Amanda. Let's not worry about that now, okay? Everything's okay!"

She pushed her anxiety out of her mind and looked again at the screen. "Everything's wonderful!" she told Lee.

The doctor interjected, "Right now, I want to keep you in the hospital for a while to make sure the bleeding subsides, and to make sure that it doesn't cause contractions, which blood can sometimes do. Then in a day or two, we can send you home, probably on bedrest for a week or so. When your doctor gives you the okay, you can probably go back to work -- If you've got a fairly sedentary job, anyway. That's up to your doctor, though."

Lee and Amanda exchanged a meaningful look on the topic of jobs....
 
 
 
 

Back at the hotel, a furious Yuri Andreyevich sat on the sofa in Boris' room. From time to time he tested the bonds around his wrists, heedless of the gun in Tsiguloff's hands. He winced each time as the strain caused the cut on his hand to ache. A dull red stain spread underneath the bandages. "You will not get away with this," he said. "Whatever it is."

"On the contrary, everything is going quite smoothly." Tsiguloff smiled. There was a knock on the door, and Dimitri returned.

Downstairs on the Concourse level, Boris, impeccably dressed in formal clothes, boldly entered the conference area through the delegates' entrance with Andreyevich's credentials. He looked for Senator Marquardt, in hopes of being able to finish his job and leave before he had to talk to anyone who might know the real Andreyevich. Unfortunately, the Senator had not yet arrived, and Boris found himself compelled to settle down in Andreyevich's place at the head table and eat dinner. He tried to keep the conversation to inconsequential small talk and continued to scan the room for Marquardt.

The schedule indicated that Andreyevich was not the first speaker on the list after the meal, so Boris hoped to avoid the trap of having to give a speech he was not prepared to deliver. He had Andreyevich's water-stained notes, but he was not very enthusiastic about his chances of carrying off such a fraud in front of so many people.

After dinner, when Marquardt still had not put in an appearance, Boris began to contemplate either switching targets or abandoning the operation. Everyone was milling around again during the brief after-dinner break, so he thought he could still carry out an assassination and escape in the confusion, but he could not settle on an appropriate alternate target. The American First Lady had indeed come to the banquet, but she was surrounded by members of the Secret Service. There would be no way to get close enough to her.

A strong hand clasped Boris' arm, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. To his horror, Boris realized that it was time for the speeches to begin, and he had not come to a decision. The committee member who had clasped his arm led him back to the head table with no possibility of argument, and there, matters quickly became worse. Prof. Kelsey, who was to have preceded Andreyevich on the speaker's platform, patted down all of his pockets in annoyance and announced, "Oh, dear! I must have left my glasses in my room. I can't see a thing without them." He looked apologetically at Boris. "I'm terribly sorry, Old Man, but I'm afraid you are going to have to go first."

By now resigned to his fate, Boris smiled sickly and tapped Andreyevich's notecards....
 
 
 
 

At the hospital, Amanda had been settled into a room on the maternity floor. Because of lack of space, the room was in the postpartum area. Amanda’s roommate had recently delivered by Cesarean, and was still rather groggy. She greeted them pleasantly enough when Amanda was brought in, but had dozed off soon after, so Lee and Amanda were effectively alone. Amanda was lying down and trying to relax -- doctor's orders. Lee sat in a chair next to the bed, holding her hand. He shook his head. "Two. I can't believe we're having twins," he said in wonder.

"Hmmm. Twice the trouble," said Amanda. "And twice the fun."

Lee leaned over and kissed her and then told her indulgently, "You never do anything by halves, do you?"

"I had help with this one," she giggled, then looked at him appraisingly. "Do you know, that even after all this panic, you still look absolutely gorgeous? I'm sorry I made you miss the banquet."

"That's okay. You and our baby -- our babies -- are a lot more important than a dinner of rubber chicken."

"I know. But I was looking forward to hearing Dr. Andreyevich's speech. He's really interesting."

Lee snapped his fingers. "You know, I think CNN was going to cover the keynote address. Let's see...." After a quick glance at Amanda's roommate revealed she was still very much asleep, he turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. "Ta-da! A front-row seat. Better than we would have had at the banquet." He grinned at Amanda.

"You are amazing," she told him, watching Andreyevich make his way to the speaker's platform. "How do you always manage to come up with just what I need?"

"Nothing is too good for the mother of my children," he teased, still standing next to the television.

Amanda shot him a slightly reproachful look, and then they turned their attention to Andreyevich's talk. After a brief introduction by Anton Medvedeslovsky, the expatriate Russian began to speak.

Lee hadn't taken the personal interest in Andreyevich that Amanda had, and he found his mind wandering, especially after all the events of the day. He would have liked to get on the bed and sit next to Amanda, but he didn't think that was such a good idea at this stage. So, he backed away from the TV and sat back down on the chair he had been occupying previously. Together they watched, Lee protectively holding Amanda's hand, and thinking more about this sudden turn in their lives than on what Andreyevich had to say.

Amanda, however, was watching intently as the television featured close-up shots of Andreyevich as he shuffled through his notes. Something didn't seem quite right, but she didn't know what it was. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed as she remembered the chance encounter with Andreyevich in the hall that morning and several pieces fell into place. She got up on her elbows, leaning forward a bit but not actually sitting up, and said, "Lee!" Lee, dragged from his daydreams, reacted with alarm, but she shook him off. "No, no, I'm fine. But that's not Dr. Andreyevich!"

"What?"

"That's not Dr. Andreyevich. Remember when we were interviewing him yesterday? He cut his hand, and badly, too. There's no bandage, and no sign of the cut, either."

"Amanda, it probably wasn't as bad as you thought, that's all."

"I saw him this morning, Lee. He had a large white bandage on his hand!"

"All right, so he took it off for the banquet. He didn't want people to see the bandage. It ruins the effect of the tuxedo."

Amanda looked exasperated. "He's a nice elderly man. He's not that vain! Not only that," she persisted, "he stumbled over Dr. Medvedslovsky's name just now when he was thanking him for the introduction, and he told me yesterday they've been friends for years!"

"Maybe he's just nervous...."

"I don't think so," she observed, nodding at the television. "He doesn't look quite right, either. There's something about him...."

Lee looked closely at the figure on the TV screen who had come to a halt in his speech and was shuffling awkwardly through a stack of note cards and waving a pen in one hand. "You know, you may be right. Andreyevich was left-handed, and this guy is marking on his notes with his right hand...."

Amanda nodded firmly.

"Amanda," Lee said, "I've got to get over to the hotel." He looked at her reluctantly.

"Go, go," she said. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

She smiled at him. "I'm sure. Just go find out what happened to the real Dr. Andreyevich."

Lee squeezed her hand and kissed her before dashing out of the room. "I'll be back as soon as I can!" he called.

After he left, Amanda stared worriedly at the TV, and then picked up the phone at her bedside and dialed. "Hello, Sir," she said, when she was connected with Billy Melrose.

"Amanda!" he exclaimed. "Are you all right? Lee said you'd gone to the hospital."

"I'm still at the hospital, but it looks like everything is okay with the babies." She took a deep breath. "Sir, I wanted to let you know that Lee is going back to the conference. We think that someone has substituted a double for Dr. Andreyevich."

"What? Tell me about it!" Melrose demanded.

Amanda explained, and reiterated that Lee had gone back to the conference. "All right, Amanda," Billy told her. "I'll get in touch with the security team that's there, and let them know Lee is on his way. They won't let Andreyevich -- phony or not -- leave without checking him out."

"Thank you, Sir. He'll need the backup."

Billy grunted his agreement and started to hang up. Abruptly he changed his mind and said, "Wait a minute. Amanda, did you say 'babies' a minute ago?"

"Yes, sir." Amanda didn't actually remember saying it, but it was certainly true, and Billy was a good friend. "It looks like we're having twins!"

"Well, I'll be. Congratulations, Amanda!"

"Thank you, sir. We're still pretty much in shock, but it's pretty exciting."

"It certainly is. Lee must be thrilled."

Amanda laughed. "Giddy is more like it," she said.

"Well, then, I'd better see about getting him some backup, Amanda. You take care of yourself -- and those babies."

Duty behind her, Amanda continued to watch the TV with just a hint of worry in her face as "Andreyevich" droned on.....

* * * * * *

Lee's rental car screeched to a halt in the valet parking area of the hotel. He leaped from the vehicle and dashed into the hotel proper without a backwards glance, leaving one annoyed parking attendant behind him. Dashing up the escalator two steps at a time, he quickly reached the conference area. Once there, he flashed his Agency ID and passed through the security area unhindered.

He paused for a minute to catch his breath and figure out what he was going to do. He could see from the television monitors that the impostor was still speaking. He didn't think that the regular security personnel would be willing to risk an international incident while the man was speaking, but perhaps they would be willing to detain him when he had finished. Unfortunately, the security chief Lee had talked to earlier wasn't on duty, and those who were were reluctant to do anything without consulting their superiors.

Lee could hear his voice rising in volume in line with his temper; then he spotted the KGB agent, Zvonik, coming towards him, perhaps attracted by the commotion. He broke off the futile conversation and dashed over to Zvonik. "Hey, Pal," he said. "We have reason to believe that's not Andreyevich in there."

"No?" Zvonik asked with interest.

"It's a long story," Lee told him, "but we can't let him get away."

Zvonik nodded and proposed, after a glance at the television monitor confirmed his recollection of the room setup, "You go to the right, I go to the left, and we can get behind him when he is finished. Somewhat subtle for a Communist, da?"

"Da," Lee said, shaking his head, and they quietly entered the banquet room and began working their way towards the front. The entire central portion of the room was filled with round tables, with eight or ten chairs surrounding each one. The perimeter of the room was about fifteen feet wide, and quite empty now that the food had been served. The raised speaker's platform was in the center of one wall, with tables in front and on either side, and the fifteen-foot empty perimeter behind.

Boris was having trouble with Andreyevich's notes, causing his speaking style to be less than dynamic, and the audience was a bit restless. Many of them noticed the movement of the two men, and Boris, following their gaze, noticed them too. It was clear that the pair were converging on the speaker's platform, and though Boris had no idea who they were, something about the one just screamed, "KGB." The other, he didn't recognize; perhaps the "Scarecrow" about whom Tsiguloff was so worried? In any event, his nervousness increased, as did his hesitations in speaking. Why had Andreyevich prepared such a lengthy speech? Boris' eyes darted frantically around the room, seeking a way out.

He's going to bolt, Lee thought, watching the impostor carefully while he worked his way across the room, edging around tables. Sure enough, when Lee and Zvonik got to within forty feet or so of the speaker's platform, Boris abandoned the platform and fled into the empty space along the wall behind him. There were two doors, one near each side wall, and, perhaps at random, he chose the door which was in Lee's half of the room.

Cursing under his breath, Lee launched himself across the room, taking the shortest path to the rear door. He was forced to climb over a couple of chairs which were in the way, and because the last two tables were so close together, he simply jumped and rolled across the closer one, breaking or scattering half-empty dessert dishes and coffee cups. He landed on his feet and ran full-tilt after his quarry as the guests who had been seated at that table shook off their paralysis and leaped up in alarm.

Lee tackled Boris just as the impostor reached the door to the kitchen. The two of them landed in a heap near the door and Boris, panic-stricken now, fought desperately. He shoved Lee off of him and tried to stand up to run again, but Lee wrapped his arms around Boris's knees and yanked him to the ground. When Boris continued to attempt to get up, Lee punched him in the stomach, hoping to knock the wind out of him.

The delay allowed Zvonik to reach the struggle, and his arrival distracted Lee just enough that Boris was able to kick Lee in the face. He fell backward and brought his hand up to hold his jaw.
 
 
 
 

Back in the hospital, Amanda had the promised "front row seat" for the confrontation as well as the speech. She had watched the impostor’s speech anxiously, hoping he would not finish and depart before Lee got back to the hotel. The present melee was almost a relief, because at least she knew Lee had arrived. The television news crew, totally unsure what was going on, kept their cameras trained on the action. The commentators speculated on what was happening in loud, excited voices, and perhaps because of that, Amanda's roommate woke up and tried to focus on the screen.

Amanda winced in sympathy as she saw the impostor's foot connect with Lee's jaw and she whispered, "Come on, Lee, get up!"

As Lee struggled to his feet, Boris made it through the door, Zvonik on his tail. Lee stood up, still rubbing his jaw, and the cameraman was able to get a nice close-up. "Isn't that your husband?" Amanda's roommate asked, confused. "What's that on his clothes?"

Amanda winced again, this time in response to the questions. "Yes, that's my husband," she admitted. "Um, he's a messy eater," she improvised in response to the second question, her attention on Lee's image on the TV screen. Her excuse sounded lame, but fortunately, her neighbor wasn't alert enough to care. Amanda continued to watch Lee, whispering, "Go, go, go!" She sighed in relief as he dropped his hand and shoved through the door, to be lost to television follow-up....
 
 
 
 

The door led into the kitchen area, and as Boris hesitated, unfamiliar with the layout, Zvonik caught up with him. Boris made a halfhearted attempt to run, but Zvonik grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. The KGB agent patted the fugitive down and removed the gun from his shoulder holster. The two were shouting at each other in Russian when Lee burst through the door and skidded to a halt beside them.

"All right, what's going on?" Lee demanded. "In English," he added, to Zvonik's obvious annoyance.

"He says he was supposed to shoot Senator Marquardt, but the man did not show up. The murder was supposed to be blamed on Dr. Andreyevich."

Lee glared at Boris and demanded, "Where's the real Dr. Andreyevich? You'd better not have hurt him! My wife likes that old man." The latter comment was irrelevant, though true, and Lee would have laughed at himself if he hadn't been so concerned.

Boris attempted to keep silent, but when Zvonik shook him, he gave up. He seemed to be resigned to whatever fate would bring him. "Tsiguloff has him, upstairs. On the tenth floor. They will kill him, I think," he said.

Lee looked at Zvonik, and Zvonik looked at Lee, trying to think of some way to keep Boris in custody while going after Tsiguloff. The sound of pounding feet caused them to look up, and the two sighed in relief as a security team came running through the door from the banquet hall.

"Is one of you Stetson?" the lead man asked.

"I am," Lee acknowledged.

"Well, you've sure got friends in high places," he said. "We're supposed to do anything you want."

"What I want," Lee snarled, "is for you to hold on to this slimeball for me while I go find his partner!"

Zvonik shoved Boris in the direction of the security team. The impostor was so demoralized by the whole experience that he made no attempt to flee. Satisfied that he was in good hands, Lee and Zvonik hustled back through the banquet room to reach the elevators. The room was awash with puzzled delegates and guests who were now milling around in confusion.

"Do you know this Tsiguloff?" Lee asked as they ran.

"He is Party member, I think. Very unhappy with Gorbachev's reforms. I have never heard of him doing anything active before, though."

"There's always a first time," Lee muttered. "And you never know what amateurs are going to do...."

Lee paused at the main security checkpoint to bring them up to date, and the KGB agent stopped with him. "Everything's fine. We got him. There shouldn't be any more problems down here. I suggest you secure the area, get people calmed down, and then send a team up to the tenth floor. That's where he says his partner is holding the real Andreyevich."

"That's not Andreyevich? That's a relief," sighed an I.E.C. official who had just come up to see what they were talking about. "Who is he?"

"Frankly, we don't know, and right now I don't care. Why don't you ask him?" Lee slapped Zvonik on the arm and said, "Let's go!"

At the main elevator bank they parted company. Zvonik waited for the elevator, and Lee headed up the stairs, in hopes of catching Tsiguloff between them.
 
 

Frustration reigned in the room upstairs. As time wore on and Boris did not return, Dimitri in particular got more and more nervous. Tsiguloff sat on the bed with his eyes closed, a gun negligently pointed in the direction of Yuri Andreyevich, who by now sat quietly on the sofa. Finally Andreyevich, concerned that his captors would panic needlessly from lack of information and harm him, cleared his throat and announced off-handedly, "You know of course that the Americans plan to show my speech on television."

Dimitri got up with alacrity and turned on the set, flipping through the various channels until he found one showing the scene downstairs. Reporters were standing in the banquet room talking, and people were milling around behind them.

Tsiguloff and Andreyevich both studied the screen with interest, for totally different reasons. Eventually it became clear that Boris had not succeeded in his mission, and that in fact he was in custody.

Dimitri cursed. "That fool Boris! I told you he could not be trusted to complete this assignment!"

"Never mind the blame," Tsiguloff told him. "We must go. You!" he snapped at Andreyevich. "Get up! We may need you for insurance."

Tsiguloff and Dimitri were impelling Andreyevich, hands still bound in front of him, into the stairwell when the elevator doors opened and Zvonik stepped out. The movement in the hall attracted his attention, and he strode purposefully towards the stairwell himself as the trio disappeared behind the firedoor. Clearly, the Soviets were so busy with their captive that they hadn't noticed him.

Lee, coming up from the bottom, was approaching the eighth floor when he heard footsteps and agitated voices coming from above his position. He flattened himself against the wall in the shadows and waited, wishing desperately that he had his gun with him. He hadn't intended to take it to the banquet in the first place, and then when he and Amanda had rushed off to the hospital, it had been the last thing on his mind.... He'd have to rely on instinct and the element of surprise. He was pleased, at least, that he wasn't winded even after the fight with the impostor and the eight-story climb. That would help.

The noisy party from above rounded a turn in the stairwell, and Lee could see that it was indeed the group he was looking for. He recognized Andreyevich instantly, and was relieved to see that the man was still alive, and walking under his own power. That was promising. Unfortunately, there were two men with him, one a step above, and one a step below; the impostor had led them to believe there would only be one. The one behind Andreyevich carried a weapon, and the one in front might be armed as well.

Distracted as they were, the trio did not notice him, and Lee had just about made up his mind to go for the armed man, even though he would have to wait until they passed by him, when he caught a flicker of motion at the bend higher up in the stairwell.

Zvonik motioned downward toward the group with a nod of his head. Lee nodded in return and prepared to strike. As the first man came abreast of him, Lee lashed out with his left fist, connecting with the man's jaw with a solid punch. At the same time, Zvonik grabbed Tsiguloff's gun arm, and the two were soon involved in a tussle. Andreyevich took advantage of the scuffle to break away and head downstairs. He stopped on the landing just before rounding the next bend, so he could watch to see how the fight would turn out.

Lee and Dimitri were involved in a close-quarters struggle. Being on the stairs made footing awkward for both of them, and after only a few moments, they lost their balance and fell as one. They tumbled down the last few stairs above the landing to end up at Andreyevich's feet, Lee sitting squarely on Dimitri's chest. Lee looked up at Andreyevich and smiled triumphantly even as he rubbed sore hands and one arm where it had taken a beating in the fall.

"Mr. Stetson!" exclaimed Andreyevich. "I thought you were a photographer," he said, watching Zvonik strong-arm Tsiguloff down the stairs to the landing.

Lee laughed. "Would you believe they stole my camera?"

A commotion from above claimed their attention, but it turned out to be the welcome sight of the I.E.C. forces. Lee and Zvonik gladly turned their prisoners over to the security people and turned their attention to Andreyevich. Lee untied his hands, mentally noting that Amanda had been right about the bandage, while Zvonik used his bare hands to wipe awkwardly at a small cut on the man's cheek.

Andreyevich waved them both off and insisted that he was unhurt, and demanded the opportunity to give his speech. Lee and Zvonik escorted him out into the seventh floor hotel corridor and then took the elevator down to the Concourse level, in deference to his age and their aches and pains. The Nobel Prize winner received a standing ovation when he ascended to the dais and began to speak.

Lee and Zvonik stood in the back of the room, watching with a sense of satisfaction. After a few minutes, Lee turned to Zvonik awkwardly. "Um, look, um, Zvonik....'

"Emil," the Russian said.

Lee paused a moment, smiled and amended, "Emil. You really were a big help back there."

Zvonik grinned. "We make good team."

Lee laughed. "I already have a partner," he said, "and I should probably be getting back to her.... But it's nice to know there's a few more good guys out there we can count on." He stuck his hand out and Zvonik took it. They shook hands warmly, and then Lee turned to leave.

* * * * * *

Before returning to the hospital to stay with Amanda, Lee stopped in their hotel room to call her and let her know he was all right and fill her in on the details, and also to take a quick shower and get out of his somewhat-the-worse-for-wear tuxedo. He decided his photographer's jeans and shirt would be comfortable enough for spending the night in a chair....

When he arrived, the television set was still on, but Amanda was dozing, and he tried to slip quietly into the seat he had vacated several hours before. She opened her eyes and smiled at him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, giving her a quick kiss. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't be sorry," she said. "I'm glad you're here. Is everything okay? I saw Dr. Andreyevich's talk after you rescued him," she added, trying to rearrange her body without actually moving too much.

"Everything's fine," Lee told her. "I'll bet he even gets more sympathy for the cause after being kidnapped!"

Reminded of the fight she had witnessed, she looked Lee over critically now. "Nice outfit. I'll bet your tux was a mess," she said impishly. "You must have been wearing that whole table's dessert."

"You saw that?" Lee said sheepishly.

Amanda nodded. "They got some great pictures of you." She pointed at her sleeping roommate. "Even Jeanine here recognized you."

Lee winced. "Sorry. That must have been hard for you to deal with."

"Not as hard as watching him kick you! Come over here and let me see," she demanded, and Lee leaned forward so she could reach his face. She stroked the bruise on his jaw gently.

"You want to kiss it and make it better?" he flirted.

Amanda slipped her hand around his neck and pulled him closer to her. She planted a light kiss on his jaw, and then moved on to his mouth. Their kiss was deep and heartfelt, and when they finally came up for air, Lee held up both hands and said, "Do skinned knuckles qualify?"

"Do you always have to punch the bad guys?" she asked, kissing each hand in turn. "It doesn't do your hands any good, you know. How will we teach the babies not to fight if Daddy keeps coming home with cuts and bruises?"

"We'll tell them, 'Do as I say, not as I do,'" Lee teased. Amanda rolled her eyes, and Lee said, "Emil hit some of 'em, too."

"Emil?" Amanda asked tolerantly, knowing he was talking about Zvonik.

"Yeah, well, he's not such a bad guy...." he trailed off, embarrassed.

"For the KGB," Amanda finished for him.

"All right, yes, for the KGB," Lee admitted, and laughed with her. Then he got serious for a minute. "Are you still feeling okay?"

Amanda nodded. "I feel fine. I called Mother to let her know about the twins, and that we'd be here a while longer than we expected. She's really excited about the babies!

"No doubt she already has plans to spoil them rotten!"

"No doubt," Amanda agreed, and then continued, "She was already at our house, and she says not to worry about Phillip and Jamie, she'll stay till we're able to get home. Oh, and I told her not to tell them yet."

Lee smiled and nodded. "We'll tell them when we get home."

Amanda's expression turned more serious. "I even called Dr. Studen's exchange to let her know about the twins. I guess she'll call this a high risk pregnancy for sure now," she said wistfully.

Lee looked at her for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then said, "You know, if it hadn't been for you, Dr. Andreyevich would probably be dead now, even though their plan fell apart when Senator Marquardt didn't show up. You saved a man's life. Lying here in this hospital bed, after the roller coaster ride of your life, you saw something I didn't see, and none of those other agents we've been tripping over for two days saw -- and you figured out what it meant. The fact that you had to stay here while others did the chasing around doesn't change the fact that you saved his life."

"But I'm your partner," she told him, leaving a host of other things unsaid.

"You bet you are!" Lee told her. "And you will always be my partner. And we're still going to split the work 50-50. It just means that for the time being you get the boring half!"

In spite of herself, Amanda burst into laughter. "Right! The research, the paperwork, the computer work -- You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Lee laughed too. "You missed the most important part, though: Growing our babies."

"Oh, Lee," she said. "You know I'll do whatever I have to do for these babies. I'll stay in bed for the next five months, if that's what it takes. I've known moms who had to. I only argued with you before because there didn't seem to be a reason for me to change what I was doing. I'll do whatever Dr. Studen says -- but don't ask me to like it! Think about the times you've been on light duty, just for a few weeks!"

"I hated it," he said promptly. "And I do understand that. You're more like me in that respect than I would ever have imagined back at that train station. You're allowed to hate it. But you'll do it?"

"I just said I would," Amanda said, exasperation growing. "Besides, you know me better than that. I'm responsible for two lives besides my own now. My babies are dependent on me."

"And they're going to be beautiful, strong, healthy babies with such a remarkable woman for their mother," Lee told her gently.

The love in Lee's eyes stopped her cold and washed away all of Amanda's frustrations. "They've got a pretty remarkable father, too," she assured him. "That's part of the problem. I'll miss you, being stuck back at the office while you're chasing the bad guys all over three states...."

Lee reached out and stroked her cheek. "I'll miss having you around to watch my back, too. But we'll get by. It'll only be for a few months. And anyway, I mean it: You'll be the one doing the important work."

They grinned at each other at the thought of their growing family, but Amanda couldn't help saying, "Promise me you'll be careful...."

"Of course I will. Have I ever let my partner down?"

* * * * * *
 
 

EPILOGUE:

"All right, Amanda, push," said Dr. Studen. "We're almost there."

Amanda took a deep breath, squeezed Lee's hand tightly, and pushed. This was the moment of truth. She was excited, nervous, and exhausted. Lee was perhaps less exhausted, but the fear and excitement were the same for him. Their babies were about to be born seven weeks before their due date, and while the doctors were optimistic that everything would be fine, Lee and Amanda knew anything could happen.

The pregnancy had turned out to be more difficult than either of them had feared, back in New York when they found out about the twins. There had been no more bleeding, and Amanda had been able to return to work on light duty the week after their return to D.C., but with Amanda's slender frame, the increasing size of two infants made her very uncomfortable. It was almost a relief when, at six months, her blood pressure went up and she developed other symptoms of Pregnancy Induced Hypertension, causing her doctor to order strict bedrest.

Now, at thirty-three weeks into the pregnancy, Amanda's symptoms had worsened, and Dr. Studen strongly felt that the chances for all three of them were much better if they took the babies. After a sample of amniotic fluid had revealed three days before that the babies' lungs were mature enough for them to be born, she tried to convince Amanda to schedule a c-section, something Amanda refused to consider unless it was absolutely necessary. When, shortly after the amnio, the lower baby unexpectedly turned from breech to join its twin in a head-down position, the doctor agreed to try an induction. Dr. Studen started the IV drip the previous evening, anticipating a long labor.

So, after a long night, things were finally coming to an end -- or a beginning -- at 11:00 on a spring morning. "Come on, Amanda, you can do it," Lee told her encouragingly. "You can't let all these people down," he joked, because they were surrounded by medical personnel. There were not only Amanda's doctor and her assistants, but also a complete neonatal team for each baby, based on the fact that they were coming so early. Even Lee was dressed in hospital greens.

"As if I could if I wanted to," Amanda responded, her sense of humor not entirely worn down by a night of no sleep and increasingly strong contractions. "This baby's coming whether I want it to or not!"

"All right, Amanda," Dr. Studen directed. "Push! We're almost there."

Amanda took a deep breath, held on to Lee's hand and pushed with all her strength.

"Here it comes, Amanda," the doctor announced. Amanda could feel the baby crowning, and then emerging, and she realized she was sobbing, whether for joy or relief, she didn't know.

The indignant cries of the newborn infant filled the room, and Lee and Amanda looked at each other in delight.

"It's a girl!" the doctor told them. "You have a daughter!" The doctor held the baby up for Lee and Amanda to see. She was wet and pink and squalling, her dark hair was plastered to her head, and the umbilical cord was still attached to her tiny body. She was the most beautiful sight Lee had ever seen.

Lee reached over and hugged Amanda tightly. "Jennifer," she whispered to him, tears still streaming down her cheeks, and he nodded happily.

"Jennifer Dorthea Stetson," he said, looking again at his firstborn in wonder while the doctor finished cutting the baby's lifeline to her mother.

The doctor handed the still-crying infant over to the neonatal team. "Well, she's certainly got lungpower!" she observed with a smile. Turning back to business, she gathered everyone's attention. "Okay, folks. One down, one to go. It's not over yet, Amanda."

Amanda nodded. "It will be soon," she said, taking a shuddering breath as the need to push came over her again.

"Okay, Amanda, the head's in position. If you're ready, go ahead and push," Dr. Studen told her.

Once more Amanda gripped Lee's hand tightly and pushed, concentrating on bringing this second infant into the world. It took a couple of tries, but at last Amanda's efforts were rewarded as Jennifer's twin was delivered.

"Another girl!" Dr. Studen announced, as the baby squawked several times.

Amanda caught her breath, tears filling her eyes, as she looked at her second daughter. Like her sister, the baby was tiny, much smaller than Phillip or Jamie had been. But she was very alert, gazing around the room solemnly. "Emily," Amanda pronounced with pride. "Emily Elizabeth Stetson."

"Why isn't she crying?" Lee asked with concern, since the only other newborn he'd ever seen -- Jennifer -- was still making something of a fuss.

The nurse who had been stationed near Lee in case of "fainting father syndrome" glanced over at the baby and then said, "Relax, Dad. Her color is good, and she's obviously breathing. I'd say she's just more interested in checking out the big wide world."

"Oh," Lee said, somewhat abashed. He watched his daughter then with more fascination and less worry as she too was wiped off and handed to a neonatal team.

"They're so little," Amanda said then, unable to see the babies behind a screen of adult bodies and suddenly anxious.

"Actually," Dr. Studen told her, "I think they're a little bigger than the four pounds we expected, Mom. Let's finish up here, and by then I think the docs will be ready to give us an evaluation. But," she said reassuringly, "they both look good to me!"

Amanda smiled and turned her attention toward Lee. "We did it," she breathed.

"You did it," he corrected with a grin. "Let's get through the rest of this, okay?"
 
 
 
 

They got through the anticlimax of the afterbirth and stitches, and checking Amanda's blood pressure to see how her PIH was responding to the delivery, and seemingly hundreds of little medical details, trying not to worry about the babies' health. At last the neonatologists delivered their verdict: Small, but healthy. Jennifer weighed in at 4 lb., 6 oz., and Emily, while four minutes younger than her sister, weighed two ounces more.

"We're going to want to have them in Special Care for observation, just as a precaution. But there's no sign of respiratory distress in either infant, so I think it's time you got acquainted with your daughters," the man said.

Lee and Amanda looked at each other in delight as nurses laid Jennifer in her mother's arms, and Emily in her father's. One of the nurses snapped a Polaroid photo of the new family and set it aside to develop.

Lee held his secondborn awkwardly, but he was too full of joy to let his nervousness interfere. "Hi, Emily," he told her quietly. "This is your dad." The baby squirmed slightly in his arms and turned her gaze on her father. Lee didn't care if she could focus or not -- his daughter was looking at him. He couldn't remember ever being so happy, and his eyes were again full of tears.

"She's got your eyes," he told Amanda, who was busy whispering to Jennifer. He held Emily out where Amanda could see her.

"Mmmm, I guess she does," Amanda agreed. "I think she's going to look more like you overall, though." She grinned at him. "Did you count her fingers and toes yet?"

"Was I supposed to?"

"It's part of the ritual," she told him. "See," she said, holding up Jenny's hands. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." She smiled as Lee gave her a foolish grin, and repeated the procedure with Emily. "Okay," she said, "now the toes." She unwrapped Jenny's feet and counted off ten tiny toes. "Your turn."

"No fair," Lee joked. "You have an unfair advantage. You're laying down, so she's resting on something."

Amanda laughed. "Bring her over here and I'll unwrap her for you," she said.

"I can do it," he said, and proceeded to hold the baby very gingerly while he moved her blanket. "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten," he finished triumphantly. "Does that make them official?"

"Officially ours, officially beautiful, and officially loved."

Lee did his best to wrap Emily's feet up again, then looked over at Jennifer. She had quieted down since her debut in the world. "So this is the one with the set of lungs, huh?" he said. "She looks like you."

"I'm not sure I should take that as a compliment," Amanda said.

"You do good work," he told her.

"I had a good partner," she said.

One of the neonatologists came over at that point and said, "I hate to interrupt, but it's time to get the babies over to the nursery. And you two must need some rest, too, if you've been up all night. Remember, you're not going to get much sleep from here on in!"

Reluctantly, they handed their new daughters over to the Special Care nurses. It was time for Lee to leave, as well, though he didn't want to.

Amanda took his hand then and kissed it. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you for the babies, and thank you for being here with me."

"It was easier than I thought," he admitted. "I just told myself the delivery room couldn't be any worse than facing a squad of enemy agents!"

"You are hopeless," she giggled.

"And you are wonderful!" he told her. "I guess I better go." He raised his eyebrows in a "gotta do it" expression. "I'll go rescue your mom from the waiting room and tell her about her granddaughters, and then stop by the school and let the boys know. I hope they don't mind getting two sisters!"

"I think they're past the 'girls are icky' stage, Lee," she said with a grin.

"Anyway, I'll bring them over right after school, okay?"

She nodded. "I should look a little less exhausted by then. I'd hate to worry them."

"You look radiant," Lee told her.

The hospital orderlies who had been waiting to take Amanda to her room finally interrupted, and Lee nodded.

He bent over Amanda and kissed her tenderly. "Hi, Mom," he whispered.

"Hi, Dad," she whispered back.

"Get some rest," he told her. "I'll be back."

As she was being wheeled to her room, Amanda kept thinking about how much her life had changed in the past few years. A new career, a new husband, now two new children.... It would be a challenge juggling them all, but she knew she and Lee would do it, one way or the other. They would at least try, in six months or so, when the babies were more settled, to go back to their old partnership in the Q-Bureau. Maybe it would work out, and maybe it wouldn't. Amanda only knew that after one look at her beautiful daughters, and one look at Lee's face as he counted Emily's toes, nothing else mattered.