“I want you to call the U.S. Embassy in Bishkek,” Barbara told the woman. “Tell them we’ve gotten troubling reports out of Talas and we need to know what the problem is there ASAP. They have to have good contacts on the ground there. Keep forwarding any new reports to my phone, especially when you can verify the truth of them.”

“I’ll do that. But I’m worried. Things are getting worse there, not better, and the contradictions in the reports…” Ink pressed her lips together. “Somehow, those worry me even more than what I’m hearing.”

“I agree. I think we need people on the ground ourselves to tell us. I’m going to see Klaus now and try to convince him that we need to get boots on the ground there.”

Ink nodded once to Barbara, ran fingers through her hair once more, and left the office, the tattoos on her arm losing the appearance of text and shifting to abstract, Escher-like patterns. Barbara gathered up the papers in front of her, put them in a folder, and went down the hall to Klaus’s office. She nodded to his secretary, who waved her on.

“Hold his calls,” Barbara said as she passed. Then, as she entered the office: “Klaus…”

He looked up from something he was reading; it looked to be one of the reports she was holding as well. Behind him, through the office windows, she could see the skyscrapers of Manhattan. “That the stuff about Talas?” she asked.

“Ya.” His German accent, even after years in the States, was still strong. “Jayewardene sent this to me. Said it was something to watch.” Sumting to vawtch. “I’d agree with him. Your Ink has sent you the same material?”

“She has, and I believe it’s more than just something to watch,” she told him. “We’re not getting good intel from anyone there, and we’re not going to get it until we can see what’s happening for ourselves. I think we need to go in now. Today, if possible. Half of Talas is no longer in communication with the world, and all these reports of bloodshed and violence…”

“Ah.” He leaned back in the chair. “You know how much I value your counsel, my dear.” He said it languidly, shaking his head so that his blond hair moved around his cheeks and brushed his eye patch. A hesitant smile lurked on his lips; she knew that expression—she’d seen it often enough over the years. Go ahead and tell me whatever it is you want, but I’ve already made up my mind and you’re wasting your time. That’s what that face meant.

Normally, it didn’t bother her. No couple had a perfect relationship, and certainly not them. She had her own quirks that she was certain bothered Klaus, though he rarely complained. She knew she could be too diplomatic at times, that she sometimes spoke too formally, that people often came away from her thinking her distant, aloof, and cold … and that sometimes that perception was probably correct. It didn’t bother her that Klaus’s opinion had more weight than hers with the others of the Committee and those in the UN, that it was the image of Lohengrin that came to mind whenever someone mentioned the Committee. He was the leader, the head, the face of the Committee.