“Hello, Mr. Martin,” greeted Whitey rather formally, probably in deference to Mac's guest. “Hello,” Whitey continued, addressing Sara with a big smile.
“Whitey, make sure you don’t let anyone upstairs to my apartment without announcing them, please.”
“Of course not, sir,” replied Whitey, clearly a little insulted. “I would always buzz you on the intercom first, before I let anyone up.”
Mac and Sara entered the waiting elevator, kissing each other passionately after the doors closed. They were both overheated from the excitement of the chase, and from being with each other after so long. They could barely make it into Mac's apartment before their clothes began to come off. Sara pulled off Mac's jacket, and she tugged his golf shirt up over his head in between kisses. Mac unbuttoned Sara's cashmere sweater as Sara held still to let him, then she pulled out her arms, tossing it across the room with a laugh. They embraced, Mac working at the clasp of Sara's bra. She moved back to let it fall to the floor, while she grabbed at his belt. His pants fell to his ankles. He unbuttoned her black pants, allowing them to fall to her ankles as well. Mac stepped out of his pants, and he lifted Sara up out of hers, and into his arms. He carried Sara to his Spartan bedroom where he took her like a bride on her wedding day. Sara cried with joy as they made love; Mac wiped away her tears with his finger, kissing her now salty cheeks. He was clearly overwhelmed, by being with Sara again, and more, by her reaction to their being together again.
“Mac, I need a glass of water,” said Sara, as they lay spent, side-by-side.
“Sure, baby,” said Mac, as he got up and walked naked into the kitchen.
Sara followed behind him, naked as well, until she realized that Mac's windows were within perfect view of the neighbors, with no draperies. She bent down behind the counter, laughing.
“Mac, for God's sake!”
“They can’t see you,” laughed Mac. “The lights aren’t on.”
He handed Sara a glass of water with ice, as she got up and hugged him, feeling their hard bodies between them.
“We need to talk, Sara.”
“Yes, Mac, we do. Grab your cigarettes and an ashtray. This is going to take a while.”
Mac got his Lucky Strikes out of his jacket pocket, joining Sara back in bed. He lit her a cigarette, along with one for himself, and he put the ashtray on his chest, on top of the sheet that covered them both.
“They’re after me, Mac,” Sara started.
“Who is they?” asked Mac.
“The Bund, they want me dead.”
“What is this, Bund? Why would anyone want you dead?”
“My orders were to ingratiate myself to the German American Bund here in New York, and to report back to my superiors what I was seeing and hearing. I did just that, becoming close to a girl named Florence Campbell, who was close to the Bund people. Do you know who she is?”
“No, not at all,” replied Mac.
“She was the girlfriend of that pig, Fritz Kuhn, the so-called Fuehrer of Yorkville. You must remember him. He was all over the newspapers last year.”
“Vaguely,” said Mac, wondering what Sara had gotten herself into. “Wait a minute, Florence Campbell? That was the last name on your door, Campbell.”
“Yes, I’m sorry; I sort of misled you. I did it to protect you. That had been her apartment.”
“What do you mean it was her apartment?”
“Did you read about that absurdly salacious criminal trial last year, against Fritz Kuhn? They found Kuhn guilty of something stupid, like he bilked the Bund out of money for his personal expenses. He was found guilty, and they put him away. He was sunk by the testimony of his girlfriend, Florence Campbell, who the press knew as Florence Camp. The Press called her “Mein Camp” in the headlines. Remember?”
“Cute,” said Mac, “it seems vaguely familiar. But how do you fit in, and why do they want to kill you?”
“I had been attending meetings of the Bund with Florence, at the headquarters, on East Eighty-Fifth Street, and I had gone to their summer camp with those idiots, in Yaphank, out on Long Island. Camp Siegfried. When the police raided the Bund Headquarters in Yorkville, I happened to be there without Florence. They interrogated me. I had to give up Florence to make sure my cover wasn’t blown. I led them to her, and she spilled the beans on him. They went and indicted Kuhn and sent him to jail. She just disappeared. Where she went, I don’t know. But I had her apartment key, and I used it. Those were her clothes you saw, her dishes, her everything, except for the photograph of my family, of course.
“That's incredible. How does the Bund know it was you that brought down Kuhn?”
“I don’t know, but my handlers at the Embassy told me that the Bund was looking for me. Maybe Florence told them it had to be me that caused it all. Who knows what they did to her. She just disappeared. I was rushed out to Washington the day after we had been together. I was kept hidden in the Embassy until it was decided what was to be done. I didn’t want to endanger you by contacting you. I did try to get you in the office once. They are sending me back to Russia. I am getting a new identity, and a new assignment. I have no idea what it will be, or where they will send me.”
“Is that it, the whole story?”
“Yes, Mac, I swear. That's the truth. I did not want to leave you.”
“Maybe I can talk to those guys. Scare them into backing off.”
“Mac, these guys are not people you can reason with. They are not going to be afraid of you,” Sara chuckled.
Mac laughed as he remembered getting knocked to the ground trying to protect Sara, while Sara proceeded to knock the man silly.
“How did you learn to fight like that, by the way? My God, that was incredible.”
“It was part of my training, darling, at the Kremlin. I shoot well too,” she laughed. “Hey, where is that luger?”
“I have it,” Mac replied. “It's in my night table.”
“Actually, you should hold on to it. I will be on a ship tomorrow, and I cannot bring it through customs anyway.”
“You leave tomorrow?”
“Yes, from Pier 86, on the Europa.”
“So, we only have tonight?”
“I’m sorry, baby. I will be back as soon as I can. I love you, Mac.”
They had finished their cigarettes. Mac put the ashtray on the night table, and he hugged Sara tightly to acknowledge her sentiment. She nestled into his arms, feeling safe and loved.
“I am sorry, Sara, but I have to run out for a bit,” said Mac, as he looked at the Panerai still on his wrist. “It's business. I can’t believe this. I have a meeting that I cannot miss. You stay here. I will be back as soon as I can.”
“Oh, my God! What is so important that you must leave me on my only night here? Don’t leave me alone, Mac.”
“I really can’t tell you about it,” said Mac. “It's obviously really important though. A matter of national security.”
“What? What are you involved with, Mac? I told you everything. Tell me!”
“When I get back, we’ll see. In the meantime, you are right. I should not leave you alone. I have a friend upstairs. I will leave you with her until I get back. Her name is Hallie, very sweet. She will take good care of you for me. We are good friends.”
“Is there anything between you two that I should know about, before you dump me there?”
“No, not really. She is old enough to be my mother. She loves me, though, to be honest. A very lonely lady, but we are just good friends.”
“Yeah, you said that,” said Sara with a laugh. “Mac, it's alright. I love you. And I trust you. But you are a man,” Sara said with a laugh, after a brief hesitation.
Mac did not answer Sara. He kissed her passionately instead, then got up, and showered for his meeting. Sara joined him in the shower, soaping him up before herself. They finished, dressed, and Mac called Hallie to see if she was home. He explained the situation, and Hallie readily agreed to harbor her competition, clearly delighted to get a good look at her. Mac left Sara at Hallie's door, kissing both women goodbye, letting them sort it out for themselves.