Infiltrator

'How are we going to separate him from Dieter?' his mother asked. She grabbed her hair and pulled it back from her face. 'I'm supposed to have dinner with him Friday,' she reminded him.

Two days from now. Not very long at all to get hold of Griego and get him straightened out.

'Every other Thursday Epifanio and Dieter get in the Jeep and ride the range,'

John told her. 'Or at least, since I've been watching them they have. As soon as I see them leave I'll sneak down and confront him.'

Sarah nodded approvingly. Her little boy was growing up.

'You can offer him a carrot as well as a stick,' she said. 'We could give him that weapons cache in Parque San Luis.'

It was in an area of rugged subtropical forest near the Brazilian border. The last time she'd checked it two years ago the weapons were just on the edge of being useless. It was damned damp in that part of Paraguay.

'Tell him you'll give him the location after the dinner party.' Sarah leaned forward. 'But make him believe you'll kill him if he blows our cover.'

CYBERDYNE SYSTEMS: THE PRESENT

'I already knew all of this,' Serena said to her contact in Paraguay.

She wondered how humans managed not to go mad using cumbersome handsets or earphones or worse yet speakerphones with their poor reception. The

hardware installed in her brain handled telephone calls easily. So easily that she had to keep reminding herself to actually pick up the phone, lest someone catch her talking to thin air… and apparently receiving answers.

'I thought that might be the case, senorita,' Cassetti said. 'It might save us both time if you gave me a little more direction. Just what exactly do you wish to know about Senor von Rossbach. Knowing that might give me some idea of where to look.'

Serena frowned. She hadn't wanted to get specific. Still, this was a small-time operator in a faraway country. He had no idea who she was or who she worked for. Where was the harm in allowing a little information out? And he was right; it might move things along. That he said so argued for a certain amount of intelligence. His English was excellent as well, except now and then he fell into an argot she'd identified with difficulty as typical of American popular culture some decades before.

'I am interested in finding out who he knows in the area.' She allowed her voice to get hard. 'Especially women.'

'Ah! I understand,' Cassetti said. One of those cases. 'Are you and Senor von Rossbach… married?'

'Not yet,' Serena answered. Nor likely to be. 'If you could get me pictures of any ladies he's seeing, I would pay well for it.' It also ought to speed things up.

'If you have access to a computer you could scan the pictures in and e-mail them to me.'

'Senorita, I am not so wealthy. I can take the pictures, but I will have to send

them by mail.'

'Federal Express,' she countered. 'Here's my account number.' She gave him the one for Cyberdyne. 'As agreed,' she said, 'I will pay your travel expenses.

So if you need to rent a car, that's covered.'

'I will borrow one from a friend,' he said. 'I don't have a credit card and they won't rent a car without one.'

Serena rolled her eyes. 'I'll take care of it. Go to the Hertz outlet tomorrow; they'll have something for you. You do have a license?'

'To be a private investigator? Si!' he said, somewhat indignant.

'Actually I meant a driver's license,' she said dryly.

'Oh. Si, I have that also.'

'Fine. So I'll look forward to hearing from you. When?'

'Give me three days, senorita,' he answered. 'I'll have something for you by then. If I do before then, I'll call.'

'I look forward to that,' she said, and disconnected.

She sat at her desk for a moment, considering the conversation she'd just had. So often when dealing with humans she wondered if they were really as clueless as they seemed. She frequently felt as though she'd made a mistake in hiring one of them. And she probably had, but until her Terminators were complete, she had to

rely on second best. They're just so slow! she thought. She hated the feeling of uncertainty involved in trusting a human to do a Terminator's job.

VON ROSSBACH ESTANCIA, PARAGUAY: THE PRESENT

John crouched deep in the pungent underbrush, regretting the rip in his shirt and the deep scratch on his arm and hoping there weren't any snakes living in here.

Carefully, so as not to create a flash, John raised his binoculars to study von Rossbach's house. There was a sloppy-looking little fellow lounging on the portal sipping a drink. Victor. He hadn't changed that much in three years.

Epifanio had entered the house earlier, and hadn't bothered to respond to Victor's greeting. Which didn't seem to bother Griego at all. In fact he'd laughed out loud.

John wondered what the hell the smuggler had done to alienate everyone in Villa Hayes so completely.

Dieter and Epifanio came out while he watched. Dieter ignored Victor as well, but the little man wasn't laughing about it. He looked damned serious. Epifanio and von Rossbach drove off as though he wasn't there. When they were just going out of sight, Victor spat.

That'll show 'em, John thought.

Now to find out where everybody else was so that he and his old friend Victor could have a nice long talk.

'Ssst! Senor!' John crouched down by the side of the portal, raising his head just high enough that Victor could see his eyes. He held up a bottle. 'You want to buy some cana? It's very good, and cheap, too. My father, he makes it himself.'

'If it's so good, kid, why don't you drink it?' Victor growled suspiciously.

John laughed. 'Good as it is, senor, I can only drink so much.'

'How much?' Griego asked.

'Cheap!' John said. 'Seven thousand guaranis.'

'You call that cheap? I was thinking more like two thousand. That's what I call cheap!'

' Si, that would be cheap, senor. Perhaps a little sample would convince you that my price is cheap for what you would be buying.'

'Okay,' Victor said instantly. 'Bring it here.'

'I don't dare, senor. The only watchdog that von Rossbach kuimba? needs is Senora Garcia.'

Griego laughed. 'She's one mean bitch all right.'

John giggled and slapped his leg. 'Follow me, senor. I know a nice, shady spot not far from the house where we can drink in private.'

John got up and started off at a slow trot. Turning, he saw that Victor was staring at him with narrowed eyes. He held up the bottle and ran backward a few steps.

Griego licked his lips and rose, coming down the steps eagerly.

'Not so fast,' he protested. 'I'm an old man.'

'Soon you'll feel young again,' John promised him. 'My father says a full glass of cana makes him feel like a boy.' Victor chuckled. 'If you've got something that good it's worth twenty thousand guaranis.'

John laughed and kept going, walking now, but every now and then speeding up to a trot to keep ahead of Griego.

'I'm sorry to hurry you, senor,' he apologized. 'But I want to get out of sight of the house. The senora