Fashion is Our Name Pt. 14

Anne continued, saying that in order to avoid a total insult to our hosts, a casual luncheon with Irene's staff and good customers had been arranged. The women would wear FION clothes appropriate for the occasion, and then change afterwards for the show itself. Amelia would be there, speaking Czech, to smooth ruffled feathers. She would also narrate the show, since none of us had any Czech language skill.

Driving away from the Gasthof, Ben and I were in our usual seats in the front. The motorway pointed due east, where the sky was brightening. Looking at the approach map to metro Prague, I wondered again about our opponents and their strategy. It was probably accidental intelligence that the PA had passed to them. But why kidnap and attempt to murder her?

I asked Helen to take the passenger seat, and huddled in the back with Sing and Anne. It was still dark inside the van and they settled against me, reaching for my arms.

"Help me understand the meaning of the attempted murder of the PA. How does it relate to us?"

"Jeremy said she is awake and talking. We may know soon."

"If the PA was on Galina's side, she never would have mentioned the brief she saw."

"Perhaps she is caught in more than one feud. It seems awful, but do you suppose a family clique in Zagreb saw the report and was so angry they instructed their people in London to eliminate her?"

Sing asked, "You are reaching for details to discover what they might have in mind for us?"

"Yes. If MI5 assumes news of our mission has reached Zagreb, wouldn't that make the extraction futile?"

I grabbed Sing and wrestled her body into mine back to front, capturing her with my legs. "Asian beauty, point your devious mind to the most convoluted explanation."

It took just a few sibilant words to cause my hands to drop to my side.

"Damn, why didn't I see that?"

Anne snuggled in very tightly so she could speak quietly. "I think Sing is right. The national intelligence regimes are very competitive. The Russians have been in the Balkans forever."

Helen appeared at our side. "What's going on? Are you after him again?"

"They have just demonstrated again what a callow ignorant youth I am."

Pulling my long hair and using her upper class accent, Sing ordered, "No time to be 'umble, callow one. I think this lowers the odds of trouble before Zagreb, but makes the situation there more dangerous than it is already."

"Am I allowed to cheer him up?" Her tongue licked my face and found my lips. I sighed and closed my eyes. The van zoomed along the motorway and it seemed today might work out well.

It was hard to believe three bodies with body armor were molesting me, but hands were definitely in bad places. I sat up, kissed the hands and the lips, and went forward to use the van to van phone with Jeremy. "Have you decided on a place for the women to change?"

"There is a rest stop with facilities about an hour ahead. I am having it checked by our escort."

Ben had heard and nodded. I answered, "Fine."

I relaxed in the seat, mulling over what one intelligence agency embarrassing another meant for us. It did add up. Fleet Street was undoubtedly making things hot for the PM, asking questions about the Foreign Office staffer pulled from the Thames moments before drowning for which there couldn't be a public answer. In turn, 10 Downing was all over MI5, wanting to know who had screwed up so badly.

I was smiling to myself about this when Anne cradled my head with a gentle kiss. I pulled her into my lap and said, "Your father and my solicitor are not happy this morning, I think."

"We must pretend to be naive and only following Amelia's instructions. Let's not say anything about our suspicions until tonight. If the minders think we know, they will be up to greater mischief."

Very quietly, I said, "When the moment comes, will Jeremy and Sharon follow our lead?"

Playing with my hair, she said, "Ben, this one is suggesting he should be maid to the women in their dressing."

"Pardon my saying it, Duchess, but I don't see an out of shape rugby player in your boudoir."

She cuffed me about the head and left with a giggle. I laughed at Ben and said, "It was worth a try."

She hadn't answered, but the cuff probably meant they would follow our lead if we continued to deserve their confidence. A tough challenge for untested amateurs.

Chapter 37 - Prague

At the stop, I took Jeremy to the side so we could discuss precautions during the rest of the day. The women were now going to be in fashion garments and unarmed, except for Sharon and Sing, who would have on attendant clothes in which a sidearm could be concealed. Jeremy and I would have on dark suits, bodyguard style with shoulder holsters, and attempt to be inconspicuous. Ben and Al would stay with the vans, but ready to unlimber more firepower if needed.

Jeremy said the MI5 people would handle all the coordination with the Czechs, everyone in civilian clothes to avoid a damper on the show.

In the end, after hours of nervous tension, the show came off brilliantly. Anne and Amelia scored a big hit when they assured the manager of the shop that no orders would be taken directly. All Czech orders would be handled by Atelier Irene, with suitable markup.

I don't know how it was decided, but the first model on the runway was Anne, in an elegant pleated daytime dress in shades of gray. A gorgeous string of pearls graced her bosom. Murmurs and clapping had not ceased when Helen appeared in a cocktail frock that was fitted to her youthful body with perfection. The top was dotted black and white against which her English skin glowed. She stopped and twirled, letting the skirt fly high enough to give a glimpse of scarlet briefs. Altogether bewitching and the leers from the males in the audience showed it.

Finally, Nicole emerged in a floor length evening gown that shimmered under the room lights. Her angular French face was perfectly made up with striking red lipstick that only a Parisian could wear without looking trampish.

After a loud round of applause, champagne was served and Amelia appeared with a cordless mike.

I couldn't follow the Czech, but the audience was impressed and clapped several times. There wasn't a sour face in the room.

In all, there were three cycles of clothing. The finest and gaudiest had been first, of course. The second was workaday clothes for a professional woman. Still elegant, but made for ease of movement and ability to sit without revealing more skin than desirable. Without a break, the third cycle, introduced by Amelia as experimental, was clothes for sports and the outdoors. Anne marched out in Doc Martins with boot top fitted jeans, a denim jacket with biker style decorations, and a jaunty beret. Helen appeared in amazingly tight fitted short shorts, red sneakers, and a loose tank that would have shown a lot of skin if she hadn't worn a black sports bra. The buzz had hardly died down when Nicole strolled out in perfectly cut riding trousers and gleaming black boots. The jacket was tailored to her curves, and she had a competition equestrienne cap on. This series brought a standing ovation. The other FION people in the room, including me, were clapping and shouting as loud as anyone.

Amelia announced that another round of refreshments would be served, and the FION staff would be in attendance for one more hour for questions before their unfortunate departure for their next showing in two days in Vienna.

Jeremy made a quick exit to coordinate with the drivers and the escorts, but I was swept into the crowd to act my part of young talented designer and CEO. Anne had taken charge of my appearance, putting me into washed jeans, a used blazer, and terribly mussed hair to go with my ever longer beard.

The Czech women, young and old, were into European style introductions, with kisses on both cheeks. Two gorgeous young females, identical twins, pressed cards into my hand, saying they were apprentice designers, loved the clothes, and could they possibly visit our establishment if they were lucky enough to get to London? Over their shoulders, I noticed Helen and Anne watching and laughing. I decided to make this interesting and stepped very close to the girls, telling them I would be more than pleased to see them in London, and did they favor strangers with a quick kiss?

The kisses weren't so quick, and accompanied by a burst of giggles from onlookers. Turning away, I smiled at Helen, and got a naughty finger in response.

While the models and I were keeping the buzz going, the rest of our group was busy getting everything back where it came from and out to the vans.

The manager, who was named Annette and had breached protocol with a hearty kiss on my lips, announced our departure and called for another round of thanks. The clapping echoed in our ears as we made our way out the back to the vans.

Jeremy announced that it had been decided we would be escorted out of town in order to deal with the weekend afternoon traffic crush in the Old Town. Everyone in our van huddled in the front as flashing lights and sirens took us away from Prague and toward the southbound E50 motorway to Brno.

(cont'd in Part 15 - Escape from Zagreb)