Conversations with Lady Penelope

The day in Unity City dawned bright and sunny, as usual. Peter Riordan took to the roads in his cab, enjoying the sun. He had left his rainy native Eire to find warmer climes where his arthritis wouldn't hurt so much. Unity City had seemed a natural choice since, as the World Government capital, people from many of the nation states worked and lived there, much to the dismay of the original Bahamians. He enjoyed the polyglot of languages, especially since he had been a scholar of them from his early days.

Today, he took up a spot in the queue in front of one of the mid-priced hotels. The businessmen and women who frequented it were usually good tippers; they found it easy to add their gratuity to their expense accounts. Besides, this was the sixth such hotel he had worked from in the past forty-eight hours. He had surprised some of his fellow cabbies by visiting two or three of the less lucrative stands over the past two days, but then again, he had an ulterior motive.

Yes, the day in Unity city looked to be a beautiful one. Jim Franks, however, did not appreciate it. He had searched the hotel room and Liv's belongings thoroughly every time she turned her back. There was no sign of the disk. He wined and dined her extensively (especially the "wined" part), and enjoyed her body at every opportunity, but when he asked for details about their rendezvous, she got cagey, smiling and teasing him. Finally, on this bright and sunny morning, she got out of the bed they had shared and shook him.

"Better get up and shower. We have an appointment."

Two hours later, Franks and Liv checked out of their hotel, dressed, pressed, and looking for all the world like a pair of business people who had successfully concluded whatever had brought them to Unity City. Peter, who had the bonnet of his ride open as an excuse to just watch the passers by, stood up suddenly as the two blond people stepped out to the curb and hailed a cab. He pulled a PDA from his pocket, and compared the small colored photo on the plasma screen with the man who was climbing into the taxi that had pulled up. He smiled, emphatically closed the boot of his hack and, as the other cab pulled out, counted to three and pulled out after it. No one would suspect one hack on the tail of the other, at least not in city traffic, he reasoned, and he stayed a car length or two behind as he followed the pair. At a stoplight, he pressed a button on his PDA and said softly, "Agent 53 to Pink Lady. Target acquired. Following discreetly."

A moment's silence, then a soft, cultured British voice replied, "Acknowledged, Agent 53. Be careful."

Grinning, Peter replied, "F-A-B."

In Foxleyheath, England, Lady Penelope smiled as she turned off the teapot. She looked at the ornate, antique French clock that hung on the wall of her drawing room. Hmm. It would be after two in the morning tomorrow at the island. Not the most opportune of times to call. The poor lads are probably still exhausted from their last rescue; after all, that is why they asked me to coordinate the agents' reports in Jeff's absence. However, it is a mere ten in the morning where Jeff is visiting. I think I shall pass this word along to him there. So saying, she walked over to her vidphone and speed-dialed a number. I shall use code to tell him my news.

It was mayhem. Or at least that's how it seemed to Jeff. When he returned to Lou's at nine the next morning, there were a number of cars and trucks lining one side the gravel road, narrowing it down to one lane for several hundred meters. Dee's van was among the vehicles parked there, as was Jadzia's. Lou's truck was nowhere to be seen but the driveway itself was empty. Jeff couldn't see the sheriff's car this morning, but Joze was there, wearing civvies, scrutinizing those who approached.

"Speak, friend, and enter," he quipped, as he opened the door.

"Friend," Jeff responded, giving Joze a wry smile.

"Enter," Joze replied with a grin, opening the door wide.

He found Rachel in the living room, carefully packing up the frames from the collage. Someone that Jeff didn't know was putting books in a box. Rachel turned to see him and smiled. "Hey, Mr. Tracy!"

"Hello, Rachel. Where's your aunt?"

"I think she's off with Reynaldo and Fred, getting the truck. She left instructions with Mom for various workers. You might want to see if she left a message for you."

"Oh? Who are Reynaldo and Fred?"

"Let's see. Reynaldo is Dee's husband; he came up this morning. Fred is a kid who works a restaurant somewhere." The young woman saw that the book packer had stopped and was staring at Jeff. "Oh, Mr. Tracy? This is Carolyn."

Carolyn smiled and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Tracy. I heard about you on the news."

Jeff shook the woman's hand and said, "Good to meet you, too, Carolyn. Just how do you know Lou?"

"Luci? Oh, we go to the same shooting range to practice. She helped me a lot with my handguns, and I taught her a thing or two about rifles."

"Ah. That's very interesting. If you ladies will excuse me, I'd better go see if Lou left me a message. Nice to have met you." Jeff gave Rachel a little wave and went off in search of Shelly. He stopped first in the kitchen, where one wall was covered with neatly stacked boxes, several of them bearing the words "Fragile" in big, red letters. "Excuse me, Mrs. Mason, but where can I find Mrs. Clarendon?"

Jadzia looked up from where she was pulling cans and boxes from the cupboards. She smiled at him. "Shelly's in Lou's room."

"Thank you." He crossed to the door and knocked on it, even though it was ajar. He heard a now-familiar voice call, "Come in!" and the portal swung open. Jeff stepped inside.

The room looked very different from what he had seen the other day. The bed was covered with folded linens and blankets. The curtains were down, and the top of the dresser was clear of all the little knick-knacks and toiletries that had been there. He turned and saw Shelly kneeling by the bookcase, piling the contents into a sturdy box.

"I swear I don't know why she still has all these children's books," Shelly said, glancing up at him. "My kids are almost all grown up."

"Maybe she's saved them to remind her of all the children she has been an 'honorary' aunt to over the years. Like my sons," Jeff said as he went over and picked up one of the thin volumes. He smiled as he recognized the bright yellow cover of One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.

Shelly hrmphed. "Maybe. I'm going to ask if she wants to donate them to some charity or children's hospital somewhere."

Jeff thought of telling her not to ask, but then decided that Lou could make up her own mind about Shelly's idea. He asked, "Did Lou leave instructions for me?"

"Oh, yes!" Shelly exclaimed. "She asked me to have you take apart the living room computer and pack it up. Then when she, Fred and Reynaldo come back with the truck, we'll start taking some of the appliances and the larger pieces of furniture out."

Truck? Jeff wondered, frowning.

Shelly noticed the frown and asked, "Is there a problem, Mr. Tracy?"

He started, then smiled and replied, "No, Mrs. Clarendon. No trouble. I'll get to work on the computer right away. Where will I find the necessary packing supplies?"

"Down in the workshop. Jack's down there, taking care of Lou's tools and such. Just ask him."

"Thank you," Jeff said, then he left, heading for the basement. In the workshop, he found a tall, skinny man who introduced himself as Jack. He was a sub-contractor who had helped Lou with some of the renovations to her house. "Though I had nothing to do with that neat little hideaway over there," he explained with admiration, pointing to the open doorway to the little room, no longer a secret. "A real slick operator built that for her. Have to wonder why though."

"I think she said she wanted it for a panic room," Jeff prevaricated as he gathered up what he would need to pack the other computer. The boxes he and Lou had filled the day before were stacked against a wall here, labeled much as the dishes were upstairs but with no indication as to what was in them other than the title "Electronics".

Returning to the living room, Jeff climbed under Lou's desk and unplugged everything he found under there. He was pleased to see that each component's power cord was neatly labeled. This will make putting it back together easier. He worked steadily for over a half hour, and was nearly finished with the job when his satellite phone vibrated and the ring tone sounded out. "It's mine," he told Carolyn, who had moved over to pack up the recordings. "I'll take it outside." She nodded in acknowledgment and he left the house. Looking around from the front porch, he figured that if he went to the left side of the house, he'd be undisturbed. Flipping open the phone as he walked, he was surprised to be confronted by the smiling face of Lady Penelope.

"Hello, Penny," he said pleasantly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"Hello, Jeff," she replied. "It is so good to see you again. How are you? How are the boys?"

"It's good to see you, too. I'm fine, just helping out a friend here. I'm not so sure about the boys; they were recently out on family business and I wasn't sure when they got back in. I intend to call them when it's a more reasonable hour at home. How are you?"

"I am very well, Jeff, very well. The friend you are helping, is that the lady who was hurt in the home invasion the other day?"

"Yes, it is."

"How is she? Was she very hurt?" Penelope found herself feeling odd asking Jeff about another woman, one who wasn't his mother or Tin-Tin.

"She was pretty badly beaten up, but she's improving every day. Now, is this a social call, or..."

"Oh, I am calling to tell you that the item you were looking for has been found, and just where you told me to look, too," she explained, knowing that Jeff would understand her double meaning. "I would like to know what you wish for me to do with it."

He was elated as he translated Penelope's code. My agents in Unity City have spotted Franks! "Do you have it in hand right now?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, but I should be able to lay my hands on it at any time."

"Excellent. For now, just remember where it is. I'll be able to give you further instructions when I get home."

"And when might I expect those instructions?"

Jeff blew out a breath. I need to talk to Lou, get her to come with me to the island. If I can do that, I'll leave tonight and make arrangements for Brains to fly in a corporate jet as far as L.A. Then one of the boys can fly him home the rest of the way. "Probably later this evening. It depends on how well negotiations go here."

"I will await your call," she replied, a warm smile on her face. "Until then, Jeff. Au revoir."

"Goodbye, Penny," he replied. The call disconnected and he sighed with relief, putting his phone back into its case. Better get back to work, he thought.

Peter discreetly followed the other taxi through the city, keeping back three, sometimes four car lengths, but it became apparent that soon he would be in an area of town where car traffic was thin and seeing one cab, never mind two, was an unusual event. Time for camouflage, he thought. He pressed a particular button on his audio player as they passed under a bridge. An electrical charge agitated the flakes of paint that made up his hack's distinctive coloration and the outer hue of his cab changed, flashing from a dark green finish with the words, "Irish Taxi Service" on the side to a sleek, shiny, unmarked black. He removed his favorite cap, letting his dark red hair show, and pulled in his little flag that indicated he was for hire. Hope they didn't notice the change over.

Inside the other cab, Liv fussed with her make up, while Franks jiggled his knee in irritated anticipation. She had been very careful not to let him hear where they were going, but he deduced that it was time for the rendezvous. The laptop computer case sat on the floor between them, and their luggage was sitting in the boot of their transport. Their driver didn't say anything to them, just concentrated on his driving. He didn't really want to know what business these people had in the warehouse district, especially since he had seen the hint of a gun holster under the lady's blazer. As long as they didn't hold him up, he would forget they had ever met.

At last, the cab came to a halt in front of a cement block building, one of several in a relatively new industrial park. The buildings in this group boasted of being able to withstand the ferocious hurricanes that sometimes plagued the island. The pair of blonds climbed out, retrieved their luggage from the back of the hack, and Liv paid the man, adding a generous tip that would hopefully buy his silence. The cabbie was so elated to be rid of his passengers without harm to himself that he nearly peeled out as he left the scene.

Peter drove by at a normal pace, noting the number of the building in question and watching the pair enter, the woman obviously having a key to the place. There were a few nondescript automobiles parked in the slots of the neighboring building, and Peter decided he would find a place to turn around, then come back and observe from one of the unoccupied spaces in front of the building.

Liv had slipped on a pair of leather gloves before she unlocked the glass door to the building. She smiled up at Franks, and together they passed through an empty room that would have been a reception area had the space been occupied. She led her companion up an uncarpeted flight of stairs, and using the same key, opened another, flimsier door. They entered a room with narrow windows, uncovered by any blinds, but shedding plenty of sunlight into the space. There was a simple table, and two wooden chairs for furnishing, and the bare floors creaked slightly under Franks's weight.

"So, where is our contact?" Franks asked, looking around.

Liv removed the computer from its case and placed it on the table. "We're early," she said with a sly smile. "He'll be along any minute now."

As Jeff rounded the corner of the house, he noticed a large do-it-yourself moving truck backed up to Lou's front porch. Her truck was also back in the driveway, but backed up to the garage. He sidestepped the long metal ramp that was attached to the back of the truck and opened the front door. Just as he did, a short, well-tanned man with dark hair surrounding a bald pate and a luxurious dark mustache came to the door, hauling Lou's all-in-one laundry appliance strapped to a tall dolly.

"Look out!" the unknown man said as he backed out, turning every so often to see what was behind him. Jeff pulled the door open as far as it could go.

As the appliance dolly's wheels touched the porch, Joze Mason's head poked out then his body followed, his hands helping to steady the load and make sure it didn't bump. He saw Jeff standing there and gave him a smile. "We're starting with the stuff at the back and working our way forward, Mr. Tracy," he explained. "Fred and Jack could use your help, if you're up to it."

"I'll see what I can do," Jeff promised as he went inside.

The next hour-and-a-half tested Jeff's physical strength and, occasionally, his patience. The cryofridge came next, but not the nuclear cooker. It seemed that particular piece of equipment was staying put. The kitchen was cleared of furnishings entirely. Then the weight bench and the punching bag came up from the basement, followed by Lou's mattress, bed and other large bedroom furniture. At some point in the proceedings, Jeff was formally introduced to Reynaldo Macias, the balding man with the mustache. He was, as Jeff learned, a comic strip artist whose work was well known around the world. Jeff admitted that he was a fan and asked for an autograph.

There was nothing big to remove from the bathroom, but the guest room furniture was taken apart and hauled out. Jeff stuck his head in to find that someone had finished what he had started and that the boxes were sealed. Moving the living room sofa required the removal of the guest room door, something the men hadn't counted on. Fortunately, the "Fred" who was working was Fred Giordano, and he managed to slip in under the couch and pop off the hinges to the door. The desk and bookcases were easy compared to the couch. How long has it been since I had to do something like this? Jeff mused as he scraped his knuckles on a door frame. I don't think I have since Scott was a baby! The few times we've had to move, we hired people to do it for us. But then, we never had to leave on short notice. Lou is one damned lucky woman to have such good friends.

As they finished up with moving the big things, a van pulled into the driveway. The van had "Abby's Country Kitchen" stenciled on the side, and Margie got out of the driver's seat.

"Never fear, lunch is here!" she called merrily. "Would you folks give me a hand?"

Shelly came to the door, a puzzled look on her face. "I didn't know Lou had ordered catering. I'd better go ask her about it."

Jeff stopped her. "Let me. I haven't seen her all morning and I need to talk to her. Where is she?"

Sighing, Shelly said, "Out back. She couldn't watch the furniture being removed."

He nodded, and went out the back door, sparing a glance for the unhappy felines who meowed at him in their distinctive voices from the porch where they were confined. Jeff looked around for Lou and finally spotted her red leather jacket. She was halfway up the hill at the back of her yard, sitting on a boulder. As he got nearer, he noticed that the right shoulder of her coat had slipped off, and she was having difficulty trying to get it back on over her sling. She turned her head as he came up the hill, slightly breathless, and he was disturbed to see how sad she looked. He gave her an encouraging smile as he said, "Hey, there."

"Hi, Jeff," she said softly. He reached out from behind and pulled her jacket back into position, and went around to face her. There were tear tracks on her cheeks, and he frowned slightly. "Your sister sent me up to ask if you'd catered lunch from Abby's."

She nodded. "Yes. They gave me a good price since I was such a... good customer." The last two words came out with a tiny sob, and Jeff reached out to cup her face in his hand.

"Lou, what's wrong?"

She leaned her cheek into his palm for a second, then moved back away from his hand, and raised her eyes to the trees above their heads. "I promised myself I would never move again. I was going to stay here, live out my life here, become an active part of the community. And now I have to leave, and in so many cases, leave without saying goodbye." She sighed and gazed at him with a weary expression. "I said that your cause was worth sacrificing for. And it is." Hugging herself, she looked down at her shoes and said in a low voice, "I just wish it didn't hurt so much."

"Oh, Lou," Jeff said softly, putting a finger under her chin and bringing her gaze up to meet his. "I-I don't know what to say. I wish you didn't have to make this sacrifice. But as you said, you can't stay here. It's too dangerous."

Her shoulders slumped and she sighed again. "I know. And no real sacrifice is ever made without some sort of pain. If there's no pain, it's not sacrifice, but merely inconvenience."

They stood quietly for a moment, the only sounds around them the twitter of the birds and the rustle of the trees in their new spring finery. Then he cleared his throat, "Lou? About what I asked yesterday. Have you given my offer any thought?"

She wet her lips with her tongue and slowly nodded. "Yes, Jeff, I have. I want you to know that it's a lovely offer and I thank you so very much for making it. But... I can't. I just can't go with you to your island."