Critical Space Read Free Page A

"Figured I was getting too old to be running through marshes with fall kit. Day comes you know the Beacons are going to beat you rather than the other way around, a man thinks about retiring. I'm in your line of work now, matter of fact."
    "No kidding?" I said. Natalie and Dale were both watching me, curious, and I made a half-wave with my free hand, trying to indicate that I knew as little as they did.
    "Dead serious," Moore said. "And it so happens that I've got a principal coming across the water in a couple weeks, has some speaking engagements. Pseudopolitical, lots of photo opportunities, things like that. Wondering if you'd be interested in handling some of the crowd for me."
    "What are the dates?" I was motioning frantically for someone to give me something to write with and to write upon. Natalie tossed me the
GG&G Industries
catalogue sitting on the coffee table, and Dale handed over a ballpoint.
    "End of the month, twenty-fifth through the third of March," Moore said. "You free?"
    "Absolutely."
    Moore laughed. "Didn't have to check the schedule, then?"
    "No, I've got it memorized," I said, scribbling the word "JOB" on the catalogue and holding it up for all to see. "Can you tell me anything more?"
    "I've got a packet I can fax you, if you give me the number. Dates, itinerary, so on. You can review it then give me a ring back, we can discuss terms."
    "Hold on," I said, and covered the mouthpiece. "Do we have a fax number?"
    "We have a fax number," Dale said.
    I removed my hand and repeated the number Dale gave me to Moore. "When do you need an answer?"
    "Can you ring me tomorrow?"
    "Done."
    "Talk to you then. Cheers."
    I hung up the phone and turned back to share the news, only to discover that the room had suddenly emptied, and that Dale and Natalie were now in the office at the end of the hall. Dale was making certain the paper tray was loaded, and Natalie was staring at the fax machine as if it would start reciting Homer at any second. As I entered, though, she pulled her look from the machine and put it on me.
    "Well?"
    "Robert Moore has left the SAS and is now in the personal protection business. He's got a job in New York and he wants us to assist. Details to follow."
    "Who's the principal?"
    "Didn't say."
    "But presumably it's someone who can pay?"
    "I'd expect."
    Natalie gnawed her lower lip for a moment. The fax machine bleated, once, then began humming, and within seconds pages were spewing forth. Dale grabbed them as they hit the out tray, handing them over, and Natalie snatched the first sheet before I read it.
    "Lady Antonia Ainsley-Hunter," she said. "Moore is protecting Lady Antonia Ainsley-Hunter."
    "I'd say she can pay," I said.
    Natalie socked me in the shoulder.
* * *
    Lady Ainsley-Hunter was, at twenty-three years old, one of the most visible advocates of children's rights in the world, and the founder of Together Now, a grass-roots group that had started in the U.K., similar to Rock the Vote. Hunger, disease, abuse, exploitation, ignorance -- all of it was on Together Now's hit list, and the organization worked closely with UNICEF and the ILO to reach its goals, with Lady Ainsley-Hunter spearheading the assault. She was blond and attractive and surprisingly innocent-looking despite all she had undoubtedly seen, and her mission occupied most, but not all, of her waking moments. In interviews she could talk as easily about her favorite bands and foods and films as about mortality rates among infants in the Third World and incidences of child and spousal abuse in emerging nations.
    The media absolutely adored her, in both Britain and the U.S. It was that visibility as much as anything else that made her a force to be reckoned with: She got the message out.
    It was that visibility that also made her a target, because every wacko in the woodwork knew who she was.
* * *
    For the next three weeks, we buried ourselves in advance work, covering everything we could think of, just to be safe. All four of us