"I don't like it, but there's no other way." A shadow crossed her face. "And their hearts didn't bleed when they blew up that busload of schoolchildren last month." So much violence, so many tears in the world. No matter how often she was forced to face it, she never got used to it.

She impulsively bent down and brushed a light kiss on her father's forehead. "Thanks, Evan."

He stiffened at the gesture. "You must be more worried about this than I thought, if you're getting mushy on me."

"I'm never mushy. I just thought…" Sheturned on her heel and headed for the front door. "Oh, what the hell."

"Be careful."

She glanced over her shoulder in surprise. "That sounds a bit mushy too."

He shook his head. "Purely selfish. I just hate funerals."

Funerals, sentiment, and every other convention, including the responsibilities of fatherhood, she thought with a tiny pang. She quickly dismissed both the thought and the accompanying hurt. What was wrong with her today? She had no more need of a father now at twenty-four than she had when she was ten. She had been brought up to be completely independent of Evan and everyone else. That was how Evan liked it and that was the way she liked it too.

She saluted him jauntily. "I'll try not to inconvenience you. See you next time."

She didn't wait for an answer but quickly left the hotel room, cursing herself for the affectionate gesture that had embarrassed both Evan and herself. She couldn't remember the last time she had kissed her father. El Salvador? Probably not. Beneath that easygoing facade he was completely self-centered and found physical demonstrations unappealing.

Well, so did she. She didn't need any affection from anyone. She was just as self-centered and tough as Evan and she had reached out to him only because she was a little frightened about tonight.

Who was she kidding? She was terrified. Every argument Evan had used had hit dead center. If she was smart, she would abandon the plan, turn her back on Falkner, and get the hell out of Said Ababa.