Assignment in Nowhere

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It was one of those tranquil summer evenings when the sunset colors seemed to linger on in the sky even longer than June in Stockholm could explain. I stood by the French windows, looking out at pale rose and tawny gold and electric blue, feeling a sensation near the back of the neck that always before had meant trouble, big trouble, coming my way.

The phone jangled harshly through the room. I beat the track record getting to it, grabbed the old-fashioned Imperium-style, brass-mounted instrument off the hall table, and waited a moment to be sure my voice wouldn’t squeak before I said hello.

“Colonel Bayard?” said the voice at the other end. “The Freiherr von Richthofen calling; one moment, please…”

Through the open archway to the dining room I could see the dark gleam of Barbro’s red hair as she nodded at the bottle of wine Luc was showing her. Candlelight from the elaborate chandelier over her head cast a soft light on snowy linen, gleaming crystal, rare old porcelain, glittering silver. With Luc as our household major domo, every meal was an occasion, but my appetite had vanished. I didn’t know why, Richthofen was an old and valued friend, as well as the head of Imperial Intelligence…

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