His name was Stephen Mostel, and his career was on the line. Sixteen years in the Secret Service, all of it going down the drain right before his eyes. Seven years on First Family assignments, and nothing remotely like this had ever happened before.

He punched the steering wheel.

“Dammit!”

He had gotten lulled to sleep on this job. Elizabeth Barrett was a girl who stayed home. She went from her dorm room to her classes, to the dining room, sometimes to the movie theater, and then back to the dorm. Sometimes she went shopping in Geneva on the weekends. He would never have dreamed—not in one million years—that she would pull something like this.

“It’s all right,” his partner, Glenn, said. “It’s all right. We know who she’s with, we know where they went. The driver said the Chadwick girl always goes to the same place, practically every weekend. The local cops and the other agents are converging there as we speak. This is going to be a big nothing. It’s going to be okay.”

The Secret Service agents worked eight-hour shifts, two men per shift. When they weren’t on duty, they all had apartments in Geneva. Every one of them—eight other men—would be at the Baroque Club in minutes, if they weren’t already there.

“It’s not your neck on the line,” Mostel said.

“It is my neck,” Glenn said. “I was on door duty. I should have been listening. I didn’t hear anything.”

“I was on grounds, man! They’re going to crucify me for this. I’m supposed to see anything that happens outside her window. Somehow she got past me.”

“Can’t you go any faster?” Glenn said.

Mostel shook his head.

“It’s the car.”

The car was a Volkswagen, built for the European market. It hugged the curves of the mountain roads just fine, and it was zippy, but it had no zoom.

“Floor it.”

Mostel floored the accelerator pedal and the car picked up a little steam. They raced downhill and through a red light. A car coming from the right laid on the horn. They were passing into the outskirts of the city. He had to be careful. Even though it was late, this was where traffic picked up.

His jaw was tight. He was so angry. He was angry at himself for being slow-witted and checked out. He was angry at himself for kicking back and relying on the school’s security system. He was angry at the other agents for treating this assignment like a low-key vacation.

But mostly he was angry at Elizabeth. How had she done this to him? He had been assigned to her for over two years. She seemed like a good kid. He was even somewhat friendly with her, as friendly as the job would allow.

Now this.

She had decided to have Elizabeth’s Big Adventure at his expense.