Betty Jo heard the sound of a car pulling up as she came down the stairs and smiled.  Tatiana was frighteningly efficient when it came to ensuring things went as they should if she was responsible for them.  She and Dia were driving into the village to meet with the Vicar and the members of the Women's Institute on raising funds for the restoration of the Rose Window in the village church, a Norman structure dating back to something close to the conquest.  She glanced at the clock, her brows drawing together.  It was a bit early for the car to be coming around, but maybe...

She listened again to the sounds outside.  Maybe not the car.  At least not the chauffeur driven, armoured vehicle that Ian preferred her to use.  She crossed the hall and opened the front door, her jaw falling open.  A black Mercedes, with two little Israeli flags, one on either side of the front hood, was surrounded by the security team, ready to draw their weapons.  Behind her she heard Edwards crossing to the door from the butlers pantry, moving majestically and with unhurried aplomb towards the door where she was.  Lev, outside, was leaning against a tree, watching, not nearly as casual an observer as he seemed. 

The driver of the car was, she was sure, not your average driver.  He was an Israeli and they didn't mess around when it came to the security of their people.  He was standing with the door between him and the security people, his hand inside his coat pocket, just standing there, his face hard and expressionless.  Betty Jo bit her lip to keep from grinning and sent a thought to Ian in his study that he was missing the show.

Ian arrived just as someone was getting out of the back seat, his security having determined any threats, primarily from the look on their faces in the form of Lev, was understood and under control. Well, Lev wasn't exactly under control, but there were two sets of eyes on him, and the bodies belonging to said eyes had hands inside of coats where, no doubt, weapons resided.

Lev wasn't moving. Smart guy.

"May I help you?" Ian asked, eying the security first then the diplomat getting out of the car.

"Yes, please. Lord Avery?" the diplomat asked.

"Yes, I'm Lord Avery."

"Aaron Ben-Shimon, Assistant to the Ambassador. May I have a word?"

Ian looked him up and down for a heartbeat or three then said, "Please. Come in."  Ian led the way to his study. Two security men trailed them and took up positions just outside the door, which Ian slammed in their faces. Turning he looked at his visitor. "What can I do for you, Mr. Ben-Shimon?"

"I understand Badi'a Batal is visiting with you? May I request you have her join us?"

"What is this about?" Ian asked with a frown.

"Please. I have something to give to her, and it must be given directly into her hands."

"All right." Ian checked out for a moment and instructed Edwards mentally to bring her.  "Have a seat."

Aaron sat, making himself comfortable, still clutching a small leather pouch he'd had under his arm the entire time.

Edwards ignored the security outside the study and knocked on the door.  When Ian said, "Come,"  he opened the door and bowed Dia and Betty Jo into the study.  "As you instructed," your lordship," he said and then left, closing the door behind him.  He looked the guards up and down and then sailed across the hall and disappeared behind the green baize door.

Dia looked at Ben-Shimon and then at Ian.  "You wished to speak with me, Ian?"  Betty Jo slid behind her and over to an armchair with a good view.
 

"This is Mr. Aaron Ben-Shimon. He's here from the Israeli Embassy and he wishes to speak with you."

"Privately, please," Ben-Shimon added, as he stood.

 "I think not," Dia said calmly and waited.

"Ah, I see. Ms Batal, I've been asked to be sure to hand you this paperwork. Directly to you. I know nothing about its provenance, or anything else about it, really. Only that it has been sent to you and it was my responsibility to see it safely into your hands. So, if you would sign a release for me, please, I will be happy to give the file to you and be on my way."

"How did it come into your possession?" Dia asked, making no move to pick up a pen.

"It was delivered into my hands by the Ambassador himself. Beyond that I am not authorized to know."

"And do you know or have an opinion as to how the Ambassador obtained it?"

Ben-Shimon opened his mouth then closed it again. He considered her for a moment then said, "I believe it arrived in the diplomatic pouch that arrived from Israel early this morning."

She considered him and then the leather pouch.  "Did it arrive in that pouch or was that added at this end?"

"I've no idea. This is how it was handed to me. I have no idea what is inside," Ben-Shimon answered.

"I see," she said.  "You will please call the Ambassador and ask him."  She looked at Ian.  "If we are keeping you, I am happy to remove to some other room to complete this business."

"No need," Ian replied, as Ben-Shimon pulled out his cellphone and made a call. Rapid fire discussions ensued with Ben-Shimon finally handing the cellphone to Dia.

She accepted it and the conversation continued, in Hebrew.  Dia asked several questions and then handed the phone back to Ben-Shimon.  "Thank you," she said pleasantly. "You will please place the pouch on the desk and then step back," she told him. 

Ben-Shimon frowned but did as asked.

Ian, standing off to the side, shared a look with Betty Jo then returned his attention to his desk and the strange pouch now sitting on it.

Dia ignored them all and approached the desk.  She held a hand, palm down, slim, long fingered and graceful over the pouch, hovering about six inches above it, her eyes closing as she concentrated.  A sense of power grew and filled the room, like rising humidity, converging on Dia and the hand she held over the pouch, bringing with it the sense of information flowing from one to the other.  Then she slowly turned her hand palm up and the pouch, equally slowly turned over and then resettled on the desk.  She stayed like that for a moment longer and then, flicking her fingers like she was throwing off water, she lowered her hand and the feeling of power disappeared.

She turned to Ben-Shimon.  "If you have a pen and the receipt I will sign it for you," she said.

Ben-Shimon, his face tense and confused looking, pulled out a receipt and handed Dia a pen to sign it with.

She did, with a flourish, and then handed it and the pen back to him.  "Thank you for your patience," she said, with a faint smile.  "I hope your return to London is a pleasant one."

"Thank you," Ben-Shimon said and was escorted out to his vehicle by Ian. Ian stayed on the stoop until the car and all its security was well away.  Lev, still leaning against his tree, watched the car until it was out of sight too.

"Interesting," Ian muttered, more to himself than to Lev.

"You've no idea just how interesting," Lev replied as he followed Ian into the house.

Dia was still standing in the study considering the pouch, making no move to open it.  She considered Ian as he came back in, Lev behind him.

"Perhaps you'd prefer we left you in privacy?" Ian asked.  Lev had stopped in the doorway, eying the pouch.

"No," she said.  "I would prefer it if you would tell me what your senses tell you about that pouch and the wards that have been placed upon it."

"All right," Ian replied and moved forward until he was near to it. He closed his eyes and Dia and Betty Jo felt power rising. The pouch seemed to almost sigh in harmony with the magician's power. Ian's eyes snapped open and the power surge died away.

"It is attuned to you, and only you. Whatever it is, it is ancient. And complex."  Ian stroked his jaw. "Do you know what it is, Dia?"

"No, nor was I expecting it.  As well, my visit here is not common knowledge.  Hence the theatrics.  The Ambassador received it in the pouch this morning with a coded communique from the highest level that it was to be conveyed here to me immediately, exactly as it is.  Israel does not export it's antiquities as I'm sure you know.  I would guess it is a codex."

"I'm surprised they didn't demand you return to Israel to receive it," Lev commented quietly. "And even more surprised they left no security here to watch over it."
 

She smiled at him.  "As am I.  Perhaps they know neither were necessary."

"And are we quite certain they aren't having us watched?" Ian asked, looking at Lev.

"Oh, yes, I'm quite certain," Lev replied.  Then after a moment, "I suggest, however, steps be taken to keep your toy well away from anyone other than you, Dia. I'd hate to see an innocent who moved it to dust it or to put it aside be harmed."

She looked at Betty Jo, silent in her armchair.  "If you would be more comfortable I will leave and take it with me," she said, meeting Ian's eyes.
 

Betty Jo made a involuntary movement that she stilled instantly.

Ian shook his head. "No. There are many objects of power in this house. We merely need to keep it somewhere isolated when you are not near to it."

"I can either shift it dimensionally or perhaps you have another place where it would be safe and made unremarkable?" 

Ian turned toward the bookcase and made a magical gesture. One section of the bookcase slid away revealing a rather extensive workshop. "Bring it here. You can leave it here and work with it here as well, if you like. It is a slightly off-dimensional workspace, so is almost impossible to detect by anyone without the key to enter."

"Thank you," she said and conjured a square of silk that wrapped itself around the pouch without her touching it.  Then she moved it, again without touching it, to the workshop and the space Ian indicated. 

Betty Jo watched it land and then sighed.  "Daddy's going to be so jealous he wasn't here for this," she said.  "Am I the only one who thinks a bit of liquid refreshment wouldn't come amiss?"

Ian sealed and locked the workshop, the bookcase sliding back into place. "No, I think perhaps scotch all round, don't you?" Ian asked looking at Betty Jo, Dia and finally at Lev who seemed remarkably nonplussed by the entire incident.

"I'll pour," Lev offered.

"Thank you," Betty Jo said, and passed the first glass to Dia, who finally took a seat.  She handed the second to Ian and settled herself back in her chair with the third considering Lev thoughtfully.
 

"What?" Lev asked her, frowning.

"Nothing," she said.  "I was going to ask you that."

"Only that it bothers me that this is so out of character for the Israelis. I hope you know what you're doing," he added, looking at Dia.

"It occurs to me that Israel, as a state, is either acting as a go-between, possibly coerced, or that they do not want it there for reasons about which I can only speculate at this point.  At the moment I do not know enough to say whether I know what I am doing or not.  I wish I did. So, until I do, it will stay where it is, as it is, untouched."