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frequency-modulating surveillance jammers made it so.
    “I was just thinking,” POTUS began again, “what it would be like to take you, wrapped in the flag.”
    “You see,” Camilla said, “Howard and Marty do have your best interests at heart.”
    He turned to her, his expression now slightly hostile. He could be mercurial that way. She had learned this very quickly.
    “Do you?” he said.
    She considered a moment. “To be honest, I don’t know whether it’s in my best interests either.”
    “ It .” His hostility was more evident. “You won’t even use the word.”
    “There are many words for what we did.”
    As quickly as it had appeared, his hostility vanished. He grinned at her. “Don’t you want to come over here and fuck me again?”
    “You see, that’s just what I mean, Bill. I have no intention of becoming the other woman, outed by God alone knows who, hounded for the rest of my life. Monica Lewinsky finally had to flee the country, for God’s sake.”
    “You’re not Monica Lewinsky.”
    “She and Clinton only did it once.”
    “Supposedly.”
    “You and I did it once, and luckily for us we didn’t get caught.”
    “We’re not going to be outed, Camilla.”
    “And you—you’d face impeachment in this very puritanical country.” She shook her head. “No, once was enough.”
    He looked genuinely stung. “You can’t mean that.”
    “Of course I don’t mean it, Bill. But also I do. Very much so.” She stirred. “Come on, we’re both too smart for this.”
    “The heart wants what it wants.”
    “Cock, Bill. Cock.”
    He smiled, sadly, a little boy again. “Okay, okay. I take your point.” His expression became suddenly serious as he half turned toward her. “But look here, Camilla, promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”
    “Of course I will. I always do.”
    He nodded. “I know that, but…this is different. You’re going up against Jason Bourne.”
    “He’s been a thorn in the CIA’s side for years, not to mention the NSA and you. But he’s just a man—one man. And the Black Queen brief is correct: This is the only way to get to him. He won’t come at you at your hotel—it’s too heavily defended. He might be able to get in, but he’d never get out.”
    “So it will be at the Thoroughbred Club. The day before the summit begins, when I, along with the other heads of state, have been invited to sit in the presidential box to watch the races. An atmosphere of mutual enjoyment, a loosening of the neckties and all that.”
    She smiled. “And he won’t ever see me coming. He’ll be on the lookout for someone else—a DOD assassin, a man, you can be sure of that.”
    “Indeed I am.” A frown overtook his face. “But, Cam, horsemanship—”
    “Is essential to my cover. That’s how I’m going to gain access to the working part of the Thoroughbred Club. I’ll be in the area that Bourne is sure to infiltrate. That’s his specialty, according to the brief. He’ll blend in, become part of the rank and file. That’s how I’m going to locate him.”
    Magnus’s face twisted briefly. “Well, I know firsthand how good you are at the art of seduction.”
    “Who said anything about seduction?”
    “First you charm him, then you kill him. The brief suggests an old and proven method. Honey’s the best way to trap a dangerous assassin. It works. From Mata Hari all the way down to—”
    “Bill, for Christ’s sake!”
    “That’s a compliment, dammit!”
    Shaking her head, she smiled, but it was a rueful smile. “Time to end it, once and for all.” How many layers of meaning in that statement?
    Magnus frowned, still clearly concerned. “The operation may not be as straightforward as the brief makes it out to be.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Briefs have a tendency to make everything seem cut-and-dried. Do x , and y happens. One move follows the next in logical progression. But the field doesn’t always progress that way. The field is chaos; people who