your threat."

With that, he hustled the shivering Irena from the room, SO that possibly only Irena herself, with her face thrust so close close to that of Ernesto Figueroa, the saw blank astonishment that clouded the man's eyes, before the hate returned as Salluca pushed the unsteady Irena away.

"He knows about me," Irena/Esteban gasped at Salluca as soon as they were clear of the Cabinet Room.

"Nonsense," said The Eagle, signalling to Consuela and Isabel to join them in the long gallery that served as an antechamber. At either end, watchful guards under the command of Sal- lucan's brother-in-law also watched the impromptu con- ference.

"He knows," Irena's face was shrouded in fear. Consuela quickly stepped in front to conceal the expression from 'her' guards.

"what is is?" she hissed, and quickly Salluca told them both the details of Figueroa's last remarks.

"It's nothing," Consuela agreed. "He just feels betrayed, as many do," she added darkly, with a glance at Salluca.

"I agree, too," Isabel put in, with a cool nod.

Irena/Esteban looked from one to each other in the group. Her artificial breasts were heav- ing rapidly beneath the light, filmy neckline of her silk dress. Her eyes were almost hysterical, enhanced by the expert, fem- inine touch Consuela had given to 'her' makeup.

"Whey are you so frighten- ed?" It was Salluca----irritated and snappish. "You could lose your life here, and isn't that more terrible than just knowing your true sex." Consuela was watching Irena's face closely as Salluca spoke. She saw the

someone

answer

Irena's eyes gave,

and was shocked. Irena feared the dis- covery of her secret even more than she feared for her own life! Now it was Consuela's turn to become paralyzed by the events of the moment. "Look at her now!" Isabel Ortega took charge. "She's in no condition to meet the American Envoy, or to or to con- verse privately with Fuentes. She must rest immediately. You, Eagle," there was a sneer in how she used the Vice- President's nickname, "You must greet the Envoy."

Salluca looked from one to the other, shaking his head, but one glance at the white- faced Consuela, who nodded to him frantically, caused him to reconsider.

""

"But how will it look....." he began. Irena was so fine in that dress. She was like the Irena of old, but without the faults. She even let him hold her hand tightly as they stood there. He could accompany her there to see the Envoy.

"A relapse!" Isabel hissed urgently. "Brought on by a difficult Cabinet meeting. You always have the wound to

refer to!"

Salluca was silent. He eyed Irena savagely. He could feel her hand tightly in his, pressed in the folds of her dress. She seemed to really need him now, this Irena. "All right," he said reluctantly. "I will go. The conference with Louis Ward is not set until four. Maybe Irena will be recovered by then." With those words, and a formal bow to Irena, he released 'her' hand, walked from the gallery, receiving a formal salute from the Colonel in charge of the Guard, and paused only to look back and give an enigmatic smile in their direction.

It

suggested

to

was Consuela who that they return the Presidential suite 'to replenish our makeup' and so it was that they heard nothing of the explosion nor the com-

-25-

motion in Revolution Square, when the car ordered to carry the President to the Airport, became a flaming torch in the instant that it crossed an old sewer conduit on its route. There were no survivors "Naturally," said the steel-faced vanguard Colonel who brought the news to the already dis- traught President later in the day.

IX

......AN OLD FLAME.......

"We might as well land anyway," said Louis Ward to the aide who brought him the urgent message. "You can let the Press have it, but keep them away from me for awhile."

The youthful aide nodded and withdrew with obliging swiftness. He would have been surprised, like everyone else, if he had seen Louis Ward in the instant after he had left. The lined, tanned face had a look upon it of utter dismay. Tears changed that look to one of grief, and Ward left himself for awhile out of con- trol until the grief was right out of him. Then, he mopped his eyes with great care and straightened his thinning

white hair.

He had known Irena Varga now for nearly ten years-from her years as an ever-smiling, grenade toting, young revolu- tionary, to the last two years of her increasingly autocratic rule. Having at one time been under the spell of that attractive and vivacious girl, he was quite well aware of her appeal to the masses of her people. Not that there'd ever been anything improper between he and Irena. There hadn't, though not for the lack of the attempt on his part.

He hadn't realized how eager he had been to get back to El Monte to see her again.