A look of ugly shock registered on Brandewaite’s face. He patted his puffy, oddly nongrayed hair and stared at me. “Drummond, I am an acting ambassador and you’re a low-ranking military officer. If you dare threaten me, I’ll speak with General Spears and have you court-martialed.”

I looked instantly abashed. “Mr. Brandewaite, you’ll have to excuse me. Please. I don’t know what came over me,” I said, and that brought a slight twitch to the corners of his mouth. Not quite a smile, but it was moving in that direction before I said, “The problem we’ve got is mistaken identities. I’m not just any Army officer, I’m an attorney. Besides, there’s a big difference between a threat and a promise. Sometimes you have to listen close, but that wasn’t a threat. Right, Miss Carlson?”

“Goddamn right,” she said with perfect timing. “I’d call it a favor, Brandewaite. He’s giving you the chance to warn your public affairs officer about the announcement I’m going to make at the press conference I’m going to convene as soon as we depart your office.”

“I will not be bullied,” Brandewaite said, glaring at her, at Keith, at me, then at Janson, whose only real offense was being a lawyer like the rest of us. Guilt by association, I guess.

“That’s right. We will not be bullied,” Janson loudly and indignantly echoed, trying to work himself back into the diplomat’s good graces. “Besides, you’re bluffing. You can’t sue a functionary acting in the best interests of the U.S. government.”

Then, to my immense surprise, Keith said, “Counselor, my field of expertise is suing federal officials. It’s how I make my living. Let me add, I make a good living. What I particularly like about this case is that not only will I win a great deal of money from both of you, but I’ll also get to cite you for criminal behavior. You said it yourself. You must be acting in the best interests of the U.S. government.”

“We are,” Janson insisted.

“You’re not. You’re conspiring with a foreign government to deprive an American soldier of his most fundamental rights. Open and shut. You’ve now been personally advised of such, which deprives you of any defense based on legal ignorance.” Keith leaned hungrily forward and awarded them a sly grin. “The facts being what they are, defending our client was going to be an uphill battle anyway. What were our chances of winning, right? This at least allows us to salvage something. An officer suspected of being gay makes legal history by being the first soldier turned over to the South Koreans for trial. It’s too bad about Whitehall being martyred and all that, but wasn’t it Robespierre who said you can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs?”

I wasn’t all that pleased that he’d broadened the issue from the fate of our client to the overall cause, but before I could think about it further, Katherine caught on to his thrust. She also leaned forward. “We’re going to make you two very famous.”

And the truth was, they were right. They would make mincemeat out of them, and Janson, the trained lawyer, was the first to figure this out, because he was the first one to turn so apoplectic I thought blood might start leaking out his ears.

“Look, lady” – he pointed a finger at Katherine’s face – “we’re not flying by the seat of our pants on this thing. This action was approved by the National Security Council.”

Katherine smiled. “I don’t care if Santa Claus gave you permission, asshole. You’re the two government officials we looked in the eye and warned. Turn over Captain Whitehall and we’ll publicly fry you.”

After that, we probably could’ve sat there and spit more screw-yous at one another, but what would be the point? We’d gotten our message across, so we all got up and trooped for the door. And I had nearly made it out when Janson grabbed my sleeve and yanked me backward.

He whispered something short and pungent, and then let go and backed away.

What he said was, “I don’t like you, Drummond. I’ll fuck you for this.”

Subtlety didn’t seem to be his forte.

None of us said anything the whole ride back because there was an MP in the front seat and confidentiality was critical at this point. Besides, I was too infuriated to talk. I was furious at Katherine for roping me into this. I was mad at the Army and at General Clapper for conceding my services. I was mad at Keith for shifting the discussion away from Whitehall and his rights and enlarging it to the gay cause.

Know who I was maddest at? The guy with the really big mouth.

Why did I have to threaten the acting ambassador? Why did I have to jump out in front and stuff my stupid head into the lion’s mouth? I knew the answer to those questions, and I wasn’t real proud about it.

I was trying to impress little Miss Number One in the Class, who’d goaded and ridiculed me for three straight years. I was trying to prove I could outmuscle her as a legal brawler.

Well, I’d showed her.

We went straight to Katherine’s room, only nobody was there, just a message telling us a big surprise awaited at the hair salon at the top of the hill beside the hotel. So we trooped up there.

When we walked in, three female legal clerks in battle dress were lugging boxes and computers, and folding tables and chairs, and were converting the hair parlor into an impromptu legal office. In the corner stood a diminutive, squat Black female noncommissioned officer with short graying hair, gold wire-rimmed glasses, and a round, puffy face that somehow, improbably, looked harder than nails. She was barking commands at everybody, waving her arms this way and that, squawking to beat the band.

I almost ran across the floor to hug her. I didn’t, though. She would’ve slapped me silly if I so much as winked. Katherine and Keith eyed what was going on and appeared instantly bewildered.

I said, “Sergeant Pepperfield, could you please step over here so I can introduce you?”

She looked up as though she hadn’t noticed us until that very instant, which was balderdash because nothing ever happened within ten miles of Imelda that she didn’t notice. She hiked up her Army camouflage trousers, lowered her spectacles, huffed and puffed once or twice like I was terribly inconveniencing her, then waddled in our direction.

Katherine was inspecting the cut of her jib.

“Katherine, Keith, this is Sergeant First Class Imelda Pepperfield, the best legal aide in the United States Army. She’ll run our legal shop.”

Imelda firmly planted her feet directly in front of Katherine, and the two of them stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed an eternity but was probably only half a second. It was that kind of look.

“Nice to meet you,” Katherine said, sticking out her hand.

Imelda grabbed it and snarled, “Don’t you or none of your legal diplomas mess with me, y’hear. I run this show and you do what I say. This office is my turf. You remember that!”

“Okay,” Katherine said.

“You got something you want, you tell me. Ol’ Pepperfield will make it happen.”

“All right,” Katherine said.

At that very instant, Maria the grump and Allie the amazon came dashing out of an office in the back. Maria was actually smiling. It was a goofy-looking thing, but it was a smile, I guess.

“Would you look what this woman did! We’ve been here eleven days and couldn’t even get a phone line. She’s here two hours and she got a building, six phone lines, and five computers.”

“Three cars, too,” Allie chirped up. “With drivers.”

“That’s wonderful,” Katherine said. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but is a hair parlor the best we could do?”

Imelda shuffled her feet. “They gave us this ’cause all of the Koreans that work here’re on strike.”

“And because it’s a hair parlor and we’re the gay defense team?” Katherine asked.