Cecilia Finster walked to Dr. Long's office with my dad riding on her right shoulder.  She wore a white blouse under a Navy-blue blazer with matching trousers and black moccasins, while he wore the standard-issue red cover-alls that all the shrinkies wore, twelve hours a day, while attending Kleinmann University.  And, upon arriving at the office door, Cecilia knocked upon it with all the courtesy she could muster.  You see, she was still a bit of an anti-authoritarian.

 "Come in!" intoned the doc (who was now almost into his seventh year as Director of Operations following Bryce Paxton's retirement).

  So, Cecilia did as requested.  Upon opening the door, she saw a bald, bespectacled Caucasian male who smilingly gestured to a chair directly opposite his desk.

  "I'll cut right to the chase," Long intoned as soon as his visitors were settled:  "Mr. Fogarty?  You once visited the country of Najranistan in your capacity as a foreign correspondent.  What can you tell us about it?"

  Dad shrugged:  "In a nutshell?  It's a landlocked Near Eastern kingdom that's roughly equidistant between the Persian Gulf and the Caspian Sea.  So, once upon a time, it was naturally a very popular rest stop for camel caravans en route to either one.  Nowadays, though, it derives at least half its gross national income from wealthy Western tourists who consider it a real-life Land of the Arabian Nights."

  "What about the royal family?" Long persisted:  "Isn't there some legend concerning the very first Queen of Najranistan?"

  "Yeah.  She was a Yemeni princess who was supposedly descended from King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba!  That's why a lot of people think it's the main reason that Israel gets along with that country far better than they do with any other member of OPEC.* "

  "With all due respect, Doc," Cecilia finally butted in:  "...why the pop quiz?  Are the two of us going to Najranistan?"

  "Not quite," he replied:  "The Crown Princess of Najranistan has been attending college here in the U.S.  More specifically?  The University of Texas (Magic City).  And, at the end of this month, her parents will be joining her there to celebrate her 21st birthday.  At which time, it's expected they'll be formally announcing the exact date of her wedding to Sheikh Abdul Dehraz of Lebanon (her long-time betrothed)."

 "Dehraz; Dehraz," muttered my dad:  "Isn't he the oil sheikh that Khomeini's been bad-mouthing so much, recently?  For being a little too friendly to the West?"

 "Precisely.  If anything were to happen to the Crown Princess on American soil, before her marriage, both her parents and Sheikh Abdul would hold Uncle Sam responsible.  Up to--and including--possibly persuading OPEC to institute a second oil embargo.  One potentially far more crippling to our economy than its predecessor, six years ago!  That's why the State Department has asked us to provide the princess with a little _extra_ security.  At least, until she goes home after her birthday." 

 But Cecilia quickly pointed out that they were technically CIA.

 "So, doesn't that legally disqualify us from operating on American soil?" she added.

 "Technically, yes," replied the doc:  "That's why the two of you will be working under the personal supervision of Special Agent Meriwether.  Our FBI liaison from Quantico."

 A twenty-something Caucasian male, with a sandy brown crew cut, then stood up from the chair he had been silently occupying to Cecilia's right!

 "Hello," he smiling said:  "It's good to meet you, Mr. Fogarty.  I've heard a lot about you from our mutual friend, Jiro."

  Dad half-smiled:  "Nothing classified, I hope.  We, uh, weren't exactly choir boys during our OSS days."

  Meriwether chuckled:  "Not to worry.  He was properly circumspect in that regard.  But, he was quite public in his high praise of you, Ms. Finster!  He said that, of all the bodyguards he's trained for Mini-Ops, you're the quickest learner--and the only undefeated champion at full-contact sparring--that he's ever had.  A regular tomboy prodigy!"

  Cecilia (who, up until that moment, had been looking at her lap in blushing pride) suddenly gaped at the young Fed with amazement.

  "Tomboy?!" she echoed, almost sounding offended.

  Dad was quick to mollify her:  "I'm sure he meant that in the sense of how youthful you looked in comparison to all the rest of our classmates."

  Cecilia wasn't fooled, but she smirked at him, anyway:  "Nice save, little man."

  "Alright, alright," said Dr. Long:  "Enough with the light-hearted banter.  There's a Sea Knight up top that will fly all three of you to Key West for a transfer flight to Wheeler County Commuter Airport in West Texas. Agent Meriwether will brief you with the particulars en route  Dismissed!"

  tbc