"Politicians? Bureaucrats? Only if I can take my Atchisson. Do some rat killing."

"You're positively antisocial..."

"Nah, man. I just know who's bringing this country down."

"It's a reception for a retired Salvadoran general. He's merging his shipping company with an American multi-national corporation."

Lyons stopped his cynical jokes. Squatting now, he waited for more information.

"You remember the briefing on Unomundo?" Blancanales asked. Lyons nodded. "I read through this general's background file. There wasn't anything definite, but there are most definitely some questions as to how the general financed his operations. He also associates with a clique of colonels and landowners in self-exile from El Salvador. We could meet some very interesting people."

"Brognola assign this to us?" Lyons asked. Standing, he paced the pasture. The pasture's mud stained his sweat pants.

"It's not an assignment. Seems the Salvadorans invited a senator friend of Hal's. But the senator can't stomach these people, so he passed the invitations to Hal, and he passed them to me. He sent a set of Senate credentials with the tickets. We'll be the senator's personal aides. What do you say? It's free."

"Could be a mistake. If we ever go undercover on an Unomundo operation, one of the general's people could remember us from this reception."

"How could you ever go undercover in El Salvador? They look at you, they know where you're from. You don't even speak the language."

"All right, I'll chance it. I want to see what they look like. We take weapons?"

Blancanales laughed as he got to his feet. "Hey, Carl. It's a party. Drinks. Food. Good times."

"Sounds more like a recon to me."

Blancanales nodded. "That, too."

6

Union musicians played instrumental renditions of Beatles songs. Near the bandstand in the hotel reception hall, couples danced. The women wore designer gowns and flashing jewelry, the men formal attire.