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Aideen regarded Serrador. "Martha was a respected and highly skilled diplomat-"

"A remarkable woman," Serrador said with a flourish.

"Yes, but as gifted a negotiator as Martha was, she was not indispensible," Aideen went on.

Serrador stepped back. His expression was disapproving. "You disappoint me, seńorita."

"Do I?"

"Your colleague has just been murdered!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Deputy," Aideen said, "but the issue is not my sense of occasion-"

"That is true," said Serrador. "The issues are experience and security. And until I'm convinced that we have both, the talks will be postponed. Not canceled, Seńor McCaskey, Seńorita Marley. Merely delayed."

"Deputy Serrador," McCaskey said, "you know as well as I that there may not be time for a delay. Before Ms. Marley arrived I was telling you about her credentials, trying to convince you that the talks can go ahead. Ms. Marley has experience and she isn't timid, you can see that."

Serrador looked disapprovingly at the woman.

"We can carry on," McCaskey said. "As for security, let's assume for the moment that word of this meeting did get out. That Martha was the target of an assassination. What does that mean? That someone wants to scare away American diplomats. They want to see your nation come apart."

"Perhaps the goal isn't even a political one," Aideen said. "Martha thinks-Martha thought that perhaps someone is hoping to make money on an armed secession."

Serrador cleared his throat. He looked away at his desk.

"Mr. Deputy, please," McCaskey said. "Sit down with us. Tell us what you know. We'll take the information back with us and help you put a plan in place before it's too late."

Serrador shook his head slowly. "I have already spoken with my allies in the Congress. They are even more unwilling than I am to involve you now. You must understand, Seńor McCaskey. We were talking with the various separatist parties before this-and we will do so again. It was my personal hope that if the United States could be brought into the discussions unofficially, and the leaders of both sides could be persuaded to make concessions, Spain could be saved. Now I'm afraid we'll have to try and solve the problem internally."

"And how do you think that will end?" Aideen demanded.

"I don't know," Serrador replied. "I only know, regrettably, how your association with this process must end."

"Yes," she said. "Thanks to the death of one who was brave enough to lead and the retreat of one who wasn't."

"Aideen!" McCaskey said.

Serrador held up a hand. "It's all right, Seńor McCaskey. Seńorita Marley is overwrought. I suggest you take her back to the hotel."

Aideen glared at the deputy. She wasn't going to be bullied into silence and she wasn't going to do an end run. She just wasn't.

"Fine," she said. "Play it cautiously, Mr. Deputy. But don't forget this. When I dealt with revolutionary factions in Mexico the results were always the same. The government inevitably relied on muscle to crush the rebels. But it was never enough to destroy them completely, of course, and the insurrectionists went underground. They didn't flourish but they didn't die. Only people who were caught in the crossfire died. And that's what's going to happen here, Deputy Serrador. You can't tamp down centuries of resentment without a very big boot."

"Ah. You have a crystal ball?"

"No," she replied sharply. "Just some experience in the psychology of oppression."

"In Mexico," Serrador pointed out. "Not in Spain. You'll find that the people are not just-what do you call them? Haves and have-nots. They are also passionate about their heritage."

"Aideen," McCaskey said, his voice stern, edgy. "That's enough. No one knows what's going to happen anywhere. That's what these meetings were supposed to be about. They were supposed to be fact-finding, sharing ideas, a chance to find a peaceful resolution to the tensions."

"And we may yet have those explorations," Serrador said, once again the diplomat. "I mean no disrespect to the loss of your colleague but we've lost