Free Men of Intrgue A Trilogy by Doreen Owens Malek Page A

understand,” he said, leaning forward earnestly. “My country would be ripe for a Communist takeover if the current government fell and the rebels were not organized and ready. I must be there, Helen, or Puerta Linda will go from a lesser evil to a greater one.”
    “I’m not a very good actress,” she said feebly. “I don’t know how convincing I would be.”
    “You would just have to be yourself,” Matteo replied. “You are an American, you have the right accent, the right attitude; you could answer questions correctly if you were challenged. We’ve got all the paperwork; you wouldn’t have to do anything except get on the plane with me and sit there until we arrived.”
    Helen stared back at him, her eyes wide.
    Matteo took her hand. “Helen, I speak English very well, but I have never been able to lose my accent completely. And it gets more pronounced under stress; it would give me away in a minute. At the very least it would make the authorities suspicious, and closer investigation would prove disastrous. But if you were with me you could do most of the talking, provide me with cover, don’t you see?”
    “I see,” she murmured, not looking at him.
    He thought she was about to turn him down and said, “Before you say no, let me tell you more about me and my country, and why it is so important for me to get back there.”
    Helen’s gaze returned to his face as he said, “The bird on the ring I gave you is the aquatar. It is native to my country and a freak of evolution, able to survive under conditions that would kill other wildlife, able to eat almost nothing for long periods and store its own water. It is a survivor, tough and smart and as tenacious as the spirit of freedom in my people. That’s why we took it for our symbol.”
    Helen listened, intrigued.
    “My country has not been in the hands of the people for a long time. The ‘elections’ the government holds are a farce; the officials talk about registering and voting, and then perpetuate a dictatorship that has kept the same faction in power for twenty years.”
    “Puerta Linda always calls itself a democracy,” Helen said. “But most people know better.”
    He snorted. “Do you think so? Americans don’t seem to care.”
    “They just don’t understand, Matteo. It’s all so confusing, so many different groups and it’s happening so far away.”
    “But you should try to understand!” he said passionately. “You Americans take too much for granted; when I was in school here and would hear on the news about the lack of ‘voter turnout’ during an election, I would be enraged. Do you know what the opportunity to vote in a free election would mean to any Puerta Lindan? And so many of you throw it away; softball games and appointments for a haircut are more important.”
    Helen dropped her eyes, remembering an election day when she had been immersed in her research and had forgotten to vote.
    “I want to bring to Puerta Linda the same kind of government you have here. My father made a mistake in sending me to America to school. I learned what it’s like to live in a free society, and once you’ve done that, you can’t go back to a lifetime of indentured servitude.”
    “Your father?” Helen said.
    “Yes. He was a minister of the current regime who served it until he died three years ago. He had all the wealth and privileges its favorites enjoy: a seaside villa, a staff of servants to wait on him and his family, the best of everything. Nothing was too good for a man so high in the government, a trusted cog in the most corrupt machine in Central America.”
    “It must have been hard for you growing up in his house,” Helen offered softly.
    “I didn’t,” Matteo responded, meeting her gaze directly. “I am illegitimate. My mother was my father’s maid.”
    “Oh,” she said in a small voice.
    Matteo stood and began to walk around, gesturing to make his points. “I was raised with my mother’s people and saw things from