Infiltrator

home as he politely, but in every conceivable way, urged them to leave.

In varying degrees of confusion and amusement, they shook hands, said thanks, and allowed him to herd them to the door. Dieter accompanied them to their cars, being charming, being friendly, the perfect host. Leaving Sarah and Victor alone together.

Sarah rose and went out onto the patio without a word. She'd been discreetly checking the room for cameras or bugs all evening and had seen nothing suspicious. That didn't mean they weren't there. She wasn't about to blow her cover with an ill advised tete-a-tete with the gunrunner.

'Nothing to say to an old friend?' Victor said, following her outside. He paused in the doorway to light a cigar.

'Do you mind?' Sarah asked. 'I can't stand those things.'

Victor shook out the match and flicked it away into the night.

'Sarah,' he said, 'I have spent the better part of the week being ignored by the people in this house and pretending to ignore them. I'm not in the mood to have someone no better than I am turn her shoulder to me and tell me not to smoke.'

He stepped closer to her and touched her on the shoulder with one finger.

He pushed her shoulder hard, his face ugly with bitterness and drink.

'Hey!' Sarah said. She glared at him. 'Don't touch me.'

Victor melted into a false solicitude. 'Awww, have I offended you, senora?' he asked. 'Oh, I am so sorry. You send your son to threaten me with torture and death. He cut me with a knife!' Victor lifted his chin and pointed to the scab on his neck. 'But I touched you with my finger, so I am an eeeevil man! Oh! I am soooo sorry.' He bowed from the waist and fell into her.

'Stop it!' Sarah snapped, fending him off. 'You stupid drunk!'

Griego, drunk and overbalanced, grabbed her hips to keep himself upright. He began to giggle helplessly, while Sarah struggled to push him away.

'I'm sorry,' he said, 'Really, I am. I'm sorry.'

Unfortunately he was laughing so hard that he couldn't let go. He rested his head on her bosom giggling breathlessly and Sarah began to slap the top of his head.

It was irtto this scene that Dieter walked.

'Epifanio!' he roared.

Then he stepped forward and grabbed Victor, who, despite his genuine horror at the way things were turning out, still couldn't keep himself from laughing.

Dieter, one hand on Victor's collar, the other grasping the waistband of his pants, force-marched him into the living room and tossed him headfirst onto the couch.

Epifanio came running in, an apron around his narrow waist.

'Senor?'

Sarah stood in the doorway, one hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

'It's her,' Victor said between giggles. 'She's Sarah Connor.'

Dieter turned to Sarah and she met his eyes with a look of complete confusion.

Victor lay on his back and kicked his feet in the air laughing until he began to choke.

'Senor?' Epifanio said again, his voice uncertain. 'What is happening?'

Dieter pointed to Griego, who was now purple in the face from coughing. 'Get that into the Jeep and drive him to Asuncian!'

Epifanio blinked. 'Now, senor?' It was almost ten o'clock, incredibly late to him.

Dieter gave him a quick look. 'Have your nephew Ubaldo do it,' he said. 'He can stay with his cousin tonight and come back tomorrow morning.'

'Sf, senor,' Epifanio said. Who was he to question the behavior of a man as big and angry as Senor von Rossbach? 'I'll go get him.'

Dieter glared at Griego, squeezing and loosening his big hands.

'You had better go and get your things together,' he said.

Victor drew himself up with a deep breath, never taking his eyes off of Dieter, and made his unsteady way from the room.

Dieter turned to Sarah and spread his hands in apology. 'I'm so sorry,' he said.

Sarah waved her hand. 'No, I am,' she said, moving toward the door. 'I feel very bad about this.'

Inside she was jubilant. This couldn't have worked out better if she'd planned it!

But her cover required her to play a decent woman appalled at this turn of events and she played it to the hilt.

'Please don't go,' he said. 'I'll be right back. I have to get… those papers for Griego. You'll wait?'

She bit her lip, her eyes lowered. It would probably be better if she left right now, leaving him to stew. But she'd found out nothing. It was a shame she hadn't dared to speak to Griego; he might well know something useful about ol' Dieter.

I think a little business trip to Asuncion will be in order next week, she thought.

'Yes,' she said, looking up at him. 'Yes, I'll wait.

After he left, Sarah rubbed her stomach, which was a hard, nervous knot, and let out her breath slowly. By his apparent assault on her, Griego had rendered anything he chose to say quite literally unbelievable.

The downside of being a swine, I guess, is that when you do tell the truth nobody can bring themselves to believe you.

Would this bring them peace? Von Rossbach's reaction to the farcical scene he'd walked in on inclined her to hope so. Only time would tell. Although the vehemence of his reaction made her uneasy.

He couldn't be falling for me, could he? She shuddered. She did not need a Terminator look-alike with romantic designs in her life. Although, if he looked like anyone else… there was something appealing about him.

Sarah shook her head. For now, she and John would stay alert, and it might be best to make quiet arrangements to disappear if the need should arise. She felt a pang at the thought. This time, running would be much harder. She'd been safe here for so long, and she was so tired of running and hiding and not being believed. Worse still, in the back of her mind, was the disappointed face of her son. He deserved better. With a little luck, maybe now he'd get it.

TORONTO FILM FESTIVAL: THE PRESENT

Ronald Labane lay on the wide hotel bed, fully dressed and so tired he was dizzy. But every bit of him, except for his too-tired face, smiled. He was a success! A raging, by-God success and no denying it. Ziedman and Roth had shown their film and it was the hit of the film festival. He'd been invited to every bash in town, shaken the hands and held the attention of some incredibly monied people, and hopefully gotten his message out to the millions. Time would tell.

Ziedman said his agent had received nibbles from several distributors and their film had been mentioned on all of the entertainment news shows. They'd even shown him sandwiched between Ziedman and Roth, and he'd looked pretty good.

Ronald lay still and basked in the glow while the room felt like it was spinning very slooowly.

These people he'd been meeting were smart, creative, and shallow. At least shallow by his standards. It looked to him like he could become their flavor of the month if he wanted to—a sort of green guru to the stars. He almost smiled, but his face was much too tired. He'd never smiled this much in his life. «

If things go the way I think they might, it'll be worth the pain, he thought.

Tomorrow morning he had an appointment with an agent, someone with pull, who'd expressed an interest in