lessly in her long skirt, cross- ing one heel over the other, showing Ward slim, dark- stockinged ankles.

Ward sipped at his coffee, thinking hard. If Boca, or even worse, his backers across the border, were proved to have been involved in the assassin- ation attempts, there would be no-one who would blame the revolutionaries if they counter- attacked right across the border. And that could lead to a gen- eral war.

Consuela was once again signalling to Irena. Irena then stood and moved gracefully to the antechamber doors. "The conference which the American Government requested will begin immediately in the Conference Hall here. If you will accompany me, Mr. Ward...”

Louis Ward jerked to his feet, and slipped his arm through the silk-covered arm of the President. He scented the musk that Irena always wore. His eagerness brought a faint, al- most scornful smile to Con- suela's lips. Ward ignored it. He would very much liked to have put his arm about the slim, feminine figure beside him. He had to adjust his stride to her short steps, the skirts rustling as she swayed, supported by his arm to the Meeting Room.

Fuentes followed behind, as they went through the ante- chamber, now crowded with American staff and reporters. Ward rather enjoyed the look of astonishment on Joe Lipper's face as he escorted Irena through the group. Irena smiled grace- fully as photographers flashed bulbs in their direction; but Ward thought that she was very nervous for someone so long in the public eye. Perhaps the assassination attempts had unnerved her after all, he specu- lated.

"No. No No questions," he replied firmly to cries on all sides. He held on to Irena's arm and then to her hand, which caused her to jump

nervously at first as he followed the guards to the Conference Hall. Later, in the Press Room, wherever that would be set up, he knew he'd have many difficult, if not impossible, questions to answer.

X

A PROPOSAL

As

soon as they were safely back in the bedroom of the Presidential Suite, Consuela removed Irena's new wig, put it on a block and began to tease the hair with a short- toothed comb. Isabel had returned from an afternoon tryst somewhere and she un- zipped the black skirt and un- did the blouse for Irena/Esteban. Without the wig, in a black slip over his bra, panties and garter belt, Esteban resembled Irena more closely than he had at first. Perhaps it was the false eyelashes that Consuela had tried on him, or the black, long, earrings, but, whatever it was, thought Isabel, as Esteban relaxed on the bed, weariness written all over his feminine makeup, it was getting easier to think of him as a 'her' now.

"How did the arrests go?" Consuela asked.

Isabel cast a warning glance at 'her' as she frowned at Con- suela. "Franco seemed to be expecting it, according to Juan Augusto," she said quietly, watching Irena for signs of anger at not being told every- thing done in her name. She motioned to the 'girl' to sit up so that she could help 'her' with 'her' slip. "But Ernesto tried to put up a fight and had to be subdued."

"We should dispose of them immediately," said Con- suela angrily, crossing the room to the bathroom. She leaned in to reach for the taps and start a bath.

"Abrado will not hear of

-29-

anything but the correct process of law," said Isabel wearily, leaving it clear, that she, per- sonally, agreed with Consuela.

In bra, panties, garter belt and stockings, the illusion of femininity slipped from Esteban. Isabel removed the foam inserts from the bra and panties, leav- ing Esteban looking very freak- ish. His face was still like a woman, but his thin youth's body was incongruous to wo- men's underclothing.

Consuela came back to assist Esteban in removing his stockings, while Isabel took away his false eyelashes and wiped off most of his makeup.

"Surely we ought to cancel this evening's reception," said Isabel. "With Salluca dead, and the Americans not able to guarantee that Boca will with- draw, it'll be in very poor taste to celebrate right now.

""

Consuela escorted the slim youth to the bathroom, placing a white terrycloth bathrobe be- side the bath for him to use. She half closed the door, leaving the youth some privacy to complete his undressing. When she heard him get into the water, she went back in to return with black, silk panties.

"This will be a somber reception," said Consuela, her head cocked to listed for sounds from the bathroom. "But it must be done. We have to show our people, as well as Boca and the rest of the world, that our leaders are united in the face of the latest attacks. Salluca insisted on the reception for this point, and his argument is still valid."

Isabel made a face. She did not agree, but she knew that Gonzalo also regarded the affair as essential. It would publicly acknowledge, with the American Press present, the pact between the Center Demo- crats and the Party of the Revolution.

There was the sound of water splashing from the bath- room. Consuela went to the