tone contained a flicker of amusement, "insists that your life is the most precious thing in the world to her. And, of course, she cares little for her own, but much for all the en- emies of the true Revolution." Isabel eyed her suspiciously. She couldn't see the humor of the present situation. From the look on Salluca's face, she might be dead within the minute. "Well, Irena," Consuela smiled at the blushing figure on the bed. "Now you've had a chance to consult with the person who made a woman out of you, we have to know now, precisely, whether you go along with our charade or not.

>>

flashed

Ah, lightning through Isabel's brain. Esteban's unhappy eyes were fixed on her. The assassination of Irene Varga, in the middle of an invasion, would split the Revolutionary Party between the followers of the 'hard-line' policeman, Ernesto Figueroa, and the 'Regulars,' who might follow Salluca. The Army, who had supported Irena and the Regu- lars in the struggle for power within the Junta, might easily desert the Regulars, particularly if the Eagle, whose father had been a hated Minister of Defense back in the Carbajal years, were to be the spokesman for that group. It occurred to Isabel that Salluca must know he could never be President while the Army held the balance of power in the Junta. But with a new and manageable Irena. "There will be price to be paid," said Isabel shortly. Esteban's eyes glinted as they watched her. Well, she thought crossly, he got himself into this. He could always have said 'No' on any occasion before now if he didn't like women's clothes.

“Which is?" Salluca's look unnerved

predatory Isabel.

"Y-you m-must g-give m-me t-time," she said. "But

you must end persecution of the Democrats," she said as he began to turn away.

Salluca's lips curled in a sneer. "That's Figueroa's depart- ment," he said. "He guards his power jealously. Only Irena could possibly push through such a program."

Isabel felt her courage re- turning. "Then Esteban will be Irena Varga," she said firmly. The black-gowned figure shifted uneasily on the bed and ner- vously touched 'her' hair. He licked his pink lips tensely. Isabel was glaring at him, her eyes narrowed. "But he will not just be a lackey for you.” She gave a wary smile. "If he becomes Irena, he must become Irena entirely, with all the power that she currently has."

Consuela was astonished by the audacity of Isabel's demand. She caught the wretched look on Esteban's face, condemned to wear women's skirts for who knew how long. She felt very little sympathy for him this time. Surely he couldn't value his own life more highly than the degrada- tion he was now suffering. A true revolutionary, she thought sternly, could never be black- mailed. Incredibly, she heard Salluca agreeing to Isabel's demand. As Isabel smiled triumphantly at him, Salluca turned away, his eye closing in a solemn wink, which was seen only by Consuela.

"We must get to the cellars quickly," said Salluca. "The Assembly Building was bombed earlier this morning and incom- ing hostile planes were reported due here in ten minutes. The life the the President is incal- culable to us at this time. Irena must go to the shelter." His tone implied that it wasn't really necessary for Isabel to go, an insult she rewarded with a thin-lipped smile.

The raid lasted well over an hour, the room in which Isabel 29

Ortega had rested for the last two days having ceased to exist within ten minutes of the first strike on the capital. The deep

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