NATALIE: I’d love to see you Friday. I have to go to a cocktail party that night. It might be an interesting scene. Want to come to the party and get dinner after?

His reply arrived fast.

JAMES: I’d be honored to be your plus one.

JAMES: Does the ATN dress code require men to be shirtless? Not to brag but I think I can give this McChesty a run for his money.

Natalie broke out in a grin.

NATALIE: I’d like to be the judge of that.

JAMES: Deal. See you Friday.

Staring at the text, Natalie felt a calm wash over her. Maybe it was James or maybe the Xanax was doing its trick, but suddenly her body felt suffused with a cottony lightness. Let’s get some sleep, she thought.

She woke up to the sight of Matt and Dasha staring down at her from the end of her bed.

“How many Xanax you give her?” Dasha asked, studying Natalie with concern.

“Not that much,” said Matt. “She’s a total lightweight.”

Natalie was staring up at them, bleary-eyed, wondering if they were apparitions. “What’s happening?” Natalie mumbled.

“We’ve been trying your cell. You’ve been dead asleep. Management gave us the key,” Matt said dismissively.

“Why’d they give you the key?” Natalie murmured, still foggy.

“The Chief is sending us to North Carolina,” Matt announced. “Guess your dinner’s off. Flight’s in two hours.”

It was like a thunderclap. Natalie jerked upright and reached for her iPhone. Scrolling, she found an officious email from the Chief’s assistant explaining that the boss’s wife and children had surprised him in Miami so they’d have to organize a meal for another time. Thank you for understanding.

Hallelujah! Dodged that bullet! She wanted to leap across the room and hug Matt for delivering the news. Only his back was to her and he was leaning over the hotel room refrigerator jimmying open the door. “You didn’t get it unlocked? You’re such an amateur!”

“What are you doing?” asked Natalie, gratitude replaced by Xanax-moderated irritation. “Leave the minibar alone. They’ll charge us and then ATN will charge me.”

“You don’t have any Funyuns.”

“What kind of minibar has Funyuns?”

“Ax!” Dasha nearly barked. “No time for this. Chief have assignment. You will be in story more. More action adventure.” She added forbiddingly, “He wants you in field.”

In her Xanax haze, Natalie thought Dasha’s words sounded ominous and she suddenly saw herself standing alone in a field—an actual field, like something out of Children of the Corn.

“What does that mean?” she asked warily.

“In the field,” corrected Matt. “He’s sending us to OpSec Solutions.”

“What’s—?” she started.

“OpSec is private security, ex-special forces. Experts in hostage and ransom.”

“I know these men,” Dasha elaborated. “Helmand Province massacre was very bad. But mostly they are okay.”

Concerned, Natalie looked to Matt for reassurance.

“The boss wants to play up the mystery of the disappearance of FLOTUS.” Matt started imitating the Chief’s voice. “What if FLOTUS has been kidnapped? Let’s look at what happens if she’s held hostage and needs a rescue.”