"Uh, actually I was kind of hoping you might have a suggestion about that."
She gave him a cool, level look that went on long enough to see that he understood he wasn't staying with her.
"A motel, a bed-and-breakfast maybe?" he quickly suggested.
"Hotels in Boston and Cambridge, if you can find one with a room, tend to be expensive, and B-and-Bs are even more so. I'll see if I can find someone to put you up in their room." She took up her backpack. "You can eat here if you like."
She shrugged. "It's not very good, but it is cheap. Or there are restaurants all
around the campus that have reasonable prices and fairly good food."
John stood up to follow her, but she held up her hand.
"I'm going to talk to my friends about you and I don't think you should be there.
Be back here by seven-thirty and I'll bring you to the meeting." She started off, then said "bye" over her shoulder with a vague sort of wave.
John was left standing there, feeling a little foolish, and a lot uncertain about how this was going to work out. He wanted Wendy to like him and he'd really come on strong, which he could tell she didn't like. Wait till she found out what he was talking about. He blew out his breath.
No wonder Mom flipped out for a while, he thought. Being right doesn't help much when you're right about something this weird.
He slipped on his backpack and looked around the busy room. He sure hoped Dieter was having a better time than he was.
I'm beginning to look forward to meeting with those arms dealers. A sure sign that things weren't going all that well here.
BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA
Alissa had cast a broad net when she went looking for von Rossbach and Connor. The boy had slipped through, but the former Sector agent had used one of his old aliases. So when Vera Philmore sent out queries on the Net with that name attached, the I-950 had immediately purchased a one-way ticket to the woman's present location.
The Terminator had arrived at the dock to find that Philmore's yacht had sailed.
It wasn't difficult to get a copy of the yacht's itinerary, and the T-101 bought a ticket on a small plane bound for Macapa, Brazil, the next afternoon.
CHAPTER NINE
MACAPA, BRAZIL
Vera couldn't resist; she moved up behind the big Austrian where he stood checking gauges in the wheelhouse and ran her hand lightly across his firm buttocks. It went with the warm breeze, the clear blue water, the salty air and diesel oil…
"Can't I help you, Ms. Philmore?" Dieter asked without turning around.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked, sounding mildly surprised.
"I don't think it's something Arnie or Joe would do, ma'am." She laughed and he continued, "Besides, I recognized your perfume."
"I hope you like it, Wulf," she said, moving around him to look at his face. "I have it made specially for myself."
"Very pretty," he said. She caught a glint of blue from his sidelong glance. "Very feminine."
Vera preened. She hadn't made as much progress with him as she'd hoped to, and by the end of next week or sooner they'd be in San Diego. "I didn't think you'd noticed," she said with a pout.
He turned to smile at her. "Of course I did."
Vera felt her heart flip-flop. Something that happened more rarely now, but was very welcome when it did. It was time to move into high gear.
"I've been meaning to find the time to get acquainted with you," she said. "I like to know my crew, since we're under one another's feet all the time. If you're free I'd love for you to have dinner with me tonight."
Dieter's face showed his surprise when he turned to her. "I'd be honored."
What else could he say? He'd wanted to get some time to talk to her alone, see if she was a suitable recruit. He just didn't want things to get… personal.
Unfortunately Vera Philmore was the kind of woman who liked to take things personally. Suddenly, and unusually, von Rossbach had the feeling he was in over his head.
"Eight o'clock, then," Vera said happily. Then, with an alarmingly direct look, she added, "Try to be very hungry."
"Oh, God," Dieter muttered as she sauntered off.
***
"That was wonderful," Dieter said. "Even better than in the crew's galley."
Vera chuckled and gestured to her maid, who brought her a mahogany box.
Pursing her lips judiciously, Vera chose a cigar, neatly trimmed the end with a cutter she took from the box, and lit it with a candle. She indicated Dieter with a nod of her head and the maid brought the box to him.
"Cuban," his boss said, exhaling a fragrant cloud of smoke. "And the best of the best at that. Do you enjoy a good cigar, Wulf?"
"When it's something this special, yes." Dieter selected and trimmed a cigar for himself. Took a long, deep drag and leaned back, letting the smoke out in a long plume.
The lighting was intimate and the windows wrapped around the seating area at the stern showed a view of a nearly full moon over the ocean.
Vera rose and Dieter stood with her. "Let's have our brandy in the lounge," she suggested. "Why don't you pour, dear?"
Uh-oh. We're up to endearments already. It wasn't that he would object to having sex with her, it was that he thought sex might screw things up. He wanted to recruit Philmore, to use her money to lay by the caches of food and weapons they'd need after Judgment Day, and her influence in high places and her mobility. For this to work right it needed to be a genuine commitment to the cause on her part, not something she was doing for romantic reasons. There were no reasons in the world more likely to cause vicious feelings once the bloom was off the rose.
He brought the brandy to her, pleased that she hadn't asked him to warm it for her. There was a contraption on the bar, but he wasn't in the mood to mess around with something flammable right now. Dieter handed her the balloon goblet and took a seat on the couch opposite.
She gave him a rueful smile and said, "I know who you are, you know."
Dieter froze. "Pardon me?"
Tossing her head back, she giggled like a girl. "You're Dieter von Rossbach. We have friends in common. Though you've been off the scene for a very long time now. Actually"—she put her drink down on the side table—"I only recall seeing you in the society column or Town & Country. There are several events that we both are supposed to have attended; only… you weren't there. I assure you, I would have noticed if you were."
She sucked delicately at her cigar, waiting for his reaction, but von Kossbach just sat there, wearing a grim expression, ignoring the brandy in his hand.
"So why," she continued, "are you playing deckhand on my little boat?" Vera settled back, taking another puff of her cigar, and watched him through the smoke.
Taking a puff of his own cigar, Dieter regarded her. It was easy to forget that Vera wasn't just a bubbleheaded blonde. She liked to laugh, disdained formality, and had an earthy sense of humor. But she'd also made most of her fortune herself and was utterly independent.
"I wasn't actually ready to talk to you about that," he admitted. Not least because he wasn't sure how to go about convincing her that what he said was true.
"Well, I am." Vera shrugged and looked away. "You're hardly the first good-looking guy to get aboard my yacht under an assumed name. You're just the first one that was rich. You could have your own yacht, you could have your own deckhands, you don't have to be one. So. What's your story, von Rossbach?"