Star Time by Joseph Amiel

Author:Joseph Amiel [Amiel, Joseph]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9780449148266
Publisher: Fawcett
Published: 1991-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

15

After that night's broadcast ended, the three FBS people were driven to a restaurant on lower Park Avenue and seated at a large table in the rear. They ordered dinner and waited for the informers to arrive.

As they conjectured on what to expect, Greg's thoughts wandered to how beautiful Chris was, in a way that seemed limitless, needing no mental allowance for the slightest defect. Her delicately delineated profile was pointed at Hugo, who was speaking. Greg thought he discerned a flush on her cheek. Was she thinking back to the night Hugo entered the little restaurant in L.A. and found them sharing an intimate dinner? Or was his memory imposing itself on his perception? He wished he could see her full face. Turn, he entreated her silently. Turn and glance at me and let me know you share my nostalgia.

Unexpectedly, she turned. He smiled at her and realized his pulse was racing.

"Do you agree?" she asked, her expression intense.

No sign of a blush on her skin. He could not tell what she had been thinking, just as he could never be quite sure all those years ago.

"Do you agree with me?" she repeated.

"I was thinking about something else," he admitted.

Chris frowned at his inattention. "If the material proves without a doubt that the man I met last night at the White House is the man who was once involved in financing the purchase of Iranian arms, maybe he's now involved in illegal activity with another South American rebel group. We'd have to buy evidence for something like that. We would be morally remiss in not buying it and broadcasting, right?"

Hugo rushed to differ. "Buying evidence troubles me. Even if it weren't morally wrong, which it is, we can never be sure it wasn't forged or something to take our money."

Greg was not so uncompromising. "Everything's for sale in one way or another. But we have to be sure it's real and to be guided by principle in evaluating whether it's too important to the national interest not to buy."

Chris was too intent on winning her argument to scoff at Greg's professing virtue. "So, it's not the principle of payment, but what is being paid for that's crucial. What if he’s secretly involved with terrorist activity, like in the old days? And what if the White House knows and condones it?"

Greg replied. "We should figure out a way to pay that doesn't compromise us, but we would certainly have to buy.”

Pleased by Greg’s support, she impulsively gripped his hand, a kind of recognition between teammates. Greg's pulse pounded like a drum. Her hand snapped back as if singed. Greg wondered if she had glimpsed his desire. Or maybe her own.

I'm acting ridiculously, he told himself.

As he plunged his fork into a moule sitting on its open shell, two swarthy men of medium height entered and peered reticently around. Spotting Chris in the rear booth, they headed toward her.

The spokesman was the man with whom she had spoken on the phone, a minor official with the Venezuelan consulate.

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