Free Firebreak by Richard Herman Page B

style cast a circle of strength and confidence around him that intimidated competition at a distance and that women found attractive and alluring. Mana could sense that he was already beaten. For a moment, Shoshana was flustered, not knowing what to do. A warm feeling welled up and pulled her toward the American. “Hi,” he continued, keeping her off balance. “I’m Matt Pontowski.”
    She glanced back at Mana, who was watching them. Shoshana gave him an upward shrug of the shoulders with a smiling, perplexed look as if to say, “I can’t help it,” or “Save me.” Mana smiled back then rejoined the Wissers. All was not lost.
    “Oh, ah, Rose Temple.” She looked away, sending an obvious signal that she was not interested. Her training had been most thorough in this area.
    But Matt was not about to be put off. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare off your Arab friend. I seem to do that all the time.” He was establishing his territory, offering her protection if she wanted it and the tugging inside Shoshana grew stronger.
    She was saved when a slender, self-possessed woman passed by. “Matt!” the newcomer sang out, her voice warm and friendly. “Hellmut said you were here.” Lisl Wisser stopped less than six inches from Matt and reached up, touching his cheek. She was establishing her own territorial claims. For a moment, the entire room was aware of the trio, watching them. The two women stood in a stark, beautiful contrast to each other; one fashionably slender, a golden blonde, the other a dark, mature beauty with a glowing sensuality. Most of the guests knew who Matt was. Two men commented on the choice Matt would have to make. A third speculated that knowing Lisl Wisser, Matt wouldn’t have to make a choice—if he was lucky.
    Shoshana ended all speculation by excusing herself and walking away, determined to leave the party and salvage whatever she could. Matt watched her go. Lisl gave his cheek a friendly pat, recapturing his attention. “Tonight?” she asked, making sure Shoshana heard.
    Outside the beach club, Shoshana asked the doorman for a taxi back to her hotel. A dark car driven by Gab Habish pulled up and she waited for the doorman to close the door before she said anything. Quickly, she recounted what had happened at the party. “You did well by leaving,” he told her. “We’ve arranged for you to join a water-skiing party tomorrow at Porta Banus. Mana will be there. Wear your black bathing suit.”
    “I can’t wear that and water-ski,” she protested. “I’ll fall out of it.” Habish only looked at her. She got the point-that was the idea.
    “I’ll have you picked up at eleven tomorrow morning,” Habish said. He was looking forward to a full night’s sleep. “And avoid Matthew Pontowski.”
    “Who is he anyway?” she asked.
    Habish let his irritation with her show. “Start doing your homework and learn all you can about the people you associate with. His grandfather is the President of the United
    States.”
    Shoshana felt a warm confusion tug at her again.

3
    The black Mercedes Habish had dispatched to take Shoshana to Porta Banus blended perfectly with the other cars in the small, exclusive resort town that hugged a harbor overflowing with yachts. The driver deposited her at a dock where she joined a small group of people. Much more observant after Habish’s sharp rebuke about doing her “homework,” she noticed that most of the crowd was made up of the younger set from last night’s party. She also counted the armed uniformed guards that strolled casually through the waterfront and along the docks. She carefully noted the type and condition of their weapons.
    Two luxury speedboats were ferrying the waiting guests for the water-skiing party out to a massive yacht that was too long to enter the harbor. A man in a white linen suit took her name and spoke into a small radio, checking her invitation before he let her board one of the speedboats.
    Once on board the yacht,