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left. The sultry lips and elegant strut of the female dancer made him long for the caress of Ana’s fingers. No woman had ever excited and challenged him like she did, and he knew he had fallen in love.

After the show ended, he found himself imagining what he and Ana would do in Buenos Aires together. Certainly they would dine at this very café and watch tango. Perhaps they would stroll through Recoleta Cemetery, explore the city’s museums, visit the tower modeled after Dante’s Divine Comedy, or take the metro to a show at the Teatro Colón.

“My dearest James, what a wonderful coincidence.”

Startled, he turned to find Hans taking the seat across from him at the table. The German American was dressed in a white cotton suit and teal dress shirt, palming a bottle of Quilmes lager on the checkered tablecloth. He must have entered through the side door. Dr. Corwin berated himself for losing concentration.

“We meet again,” he said evenly, working hard to stay calm as he studied his old enemy. Though Hans still looked vigorous and muscular, there were sun spots on his forehead, a cunning gleam in his eyes, a faint scar on the left side of his neck, and a rigidity to his jaw that lent him a military bearing. His blond hair was parted to the side, and he made little effort to conceal the handgun holstered beneath his sport coat.

As the two men locked gazes, Dr. Corwin leaned back in his chair and noticed a table beside the main entrance with four hard-eyed men who had not been in the restaurant five minutes ago. They were drinking beer and staring right at him.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” Hans said casually, a man in supreme command of the situation. “The city isn’t safe.”

“Thanks to you and your friends at the CIA.”

“It’s a complicated world. There’s a larger game being played.”

“Are you speaking of geopolitics, or the real reason you’re here?”

“Both, of course.”

“I see. How have you been, Hans? I don’t believe I’ve seen you since you tried to kill me in Cartagena. Your face seems to have healed.”

Working his jaw back and forth, his expression darkening, Hans extracted a toothpick from a dispenser on the table and toyed with it. “Did you stop to think that perhaps I let you go so you could lead me to Ettore?”

“No. I think you got outplayed.”

“Then why do I hold all the cards?”

“Do you?”

Hans smiled without showing any teeth. “You know full well who I am and what I do. I lunched with General Videla today. So let us be clear about how this is going to work. I know you’ve been in Buenos Aires for several days: What have you been up to? It will be much less painful if you tell me now.”

Dr. Corwin took a sip of wine and studied Hans carefully as he asked the next question. “How did you find me? I told no one where I was going.”

“Surely you did not think you would stroll into my territory undetected?”

“I believe I did just that. Or you would already know where I have been.”

“At times the cat pretends to let the mouse roam free.”

“Someone told you. Who was it?”

Hans leaned back in his chair. “Never doubt that I have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Dr. Corwin could tell Hans was bluffing and had only recently become aware of his presence in the city. Exhaling a slow, silent breath, he realized at once what he had to do. His and Ana’s charade had become too dangerous. Especially for her. Hans would kill her in an instant if he suspected she had withheld information from him, or that her loyalty was divided. Nor did she have a way out that he could see. Fearing she would divulge the Ascendants’ secrets to her lover, they would never allow her to leave.

Which left Dr. Corwin only one course of action, and he felt a little piece of his soul tear away with his decision. Infusing fury into his expression, he leaned forward and said, with as much venom as he could muster, “That bitch. Only she knew where I was headed . . . Good Christ, she’s one of you!”

Hans couldn’t hide a smile of satisfaction. “Whatever are you talking about?”

“I can’t believe I’m so gullible. To think for all this time I thought she loved me… ”

“Woman trouble?”

“I’ll kill her myself,” Dr. Corwin said softly.

“I doubt you’ll be doing anything of the sort,” Hans said, “once our interrogation is finished.” He polished off his beer and set it on the table. “It’s time to go, Professor. Don’t worry. My men will take care of your bill.”

It was almost closing time. Dr. Corwin looked around the restaurant and saw that all the patrons had left except for the four men sitting at the table by the front door. The staff was breaking down the grill.

Hans stood. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”

“You’d haul me away in front of the staff?”

“I’m acting in my other capacity tonight, and the men behind you are loyal to the general. I assure you they have no fear of public scrutiny. Nor will anyone in this restaurant dare breathe a word of what they see. You’ll disappear without a trace, as so many others have done, another dissident trying to undermine the regime.”

As Dr. Corwin looked from Hans to the men at the table, he compressed his lips as if fully realizing the direness of the situation. He tipped his trilby at Hans in mock acquiescence, rose with his head held high, and grabbed the walking stick he had propped against the wall behind his chair during the meal.

“It would appear you’ve won the round,” Dr. Corwin said, causing Hans to open a palm and prompt him toward the side door. “But as I’m fond of saying, appearances can be deceiving.”

In one smooth motion, Dr. Corwin slid his cane apart, exposing the rapier hidden inside. He jabbed forward, thrusting into his enemy’s midsection. Hans

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