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have known till morning. That neighborhood was dead.” Nancy shuddered at her own choice of words. “What I’d like to know is why the police aren’t doing anything.”
    The others stared at her.
    “Think about it,” Nancy insisted. “They don’t know that I got snatched. But they do know Roberto got snatched. With bullets bouncing around! And that somebody tried to run Teresa down in the garage.”
    George whistled. “I see your point. Have we ever known a situation like that when the place wasn’t immediately crawling with cops? Especially considering the protests, the bomb threat, and the fact that a foreign sports figure’s involved.”
    Especially considering there are top-secret talks involving the San Carlos dictatorship going on, Nancy added silently to herself. She had a lot of questions to ask Senator Marilyn Kilpatrick!
    At last Nancy and her friends fell asleep. Before Nancy knew it, she was awakened by a brisk knocking at the main entrance to the suite. Nancy propped herself up on one elbow, noting that the hands of her clock stood at ten minutes to six.
    Nancy jumped out of bed and ran to the door in her blue nightshirt. “Who’s there?” she called softly.
    “Marilyn Kilpatrick,” a distinctive, familiar voice replied.
    Quickly Nancy manipulated the chain and dead-bolt lock, and Senator Kilpatrick slipped inside. Nancy beckoned her into her bedroom.
    “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, but I also didn’t want to be seen coming here.” Senator Kilpatrick’s auburn hair was as smartly styled as always, but there were circles under her dark eyes. For once she looked every bit of her forty-eight years. “What happened last night? Why didn’t you get the packet for me? Tell me quickly.”
    “A lot happened. And no, the courier didn’t meet me.” Nancy pulled on a robe as the senator sank down in a chair. In a few accurate sentences Nancy briefed the politician on the events that had occurred. Then she looked squarely into the dark eyes.
    “You brought me into this. I think I’ve earned the right to be told more. Otherwise I could make a wrong move.”
    “You’re right.” The senator walked to the window and stood looking between the cracks of the blinds that Nancy had lowered. Then she turned.
    “There ought not to have been any danger—to you or anyone else. But the—information exchange—is far more important than I’ve been free to tell you. What I’m going to tell you now I should not be saying to anyone who doesn’t have top security clearance. I’m trusting you because I trust your father.”
    “It has to do with a possible revolution in San Carlos, doesn’t it?” Nancy guessed.
    Senator Kilpatrick nodded. “My committee is mediating between representatives of all the different political groups in San Carlos. We’re hoping to avert a bloodbath. Someone —we’re not sure whether from San Carlos or an outsider—does want one. I’ve been able to arrange for some very dangerous information to be smuggled to me. That’s why I needed you.”
    “Not just because I’m Carson Drew’s daughter. Because I look like Teresa Montenegro,” Nancy said.
    “Yes. Truly, I didn’t think either of you would be in danger. I thought that the fact that you resemble Teresa would give you easy access to the gym, and if anyone saw you and the courier together no one would think anything of it.”
    The pieces started to fall together. “ Roberto was the courier, wasn’t he?” she said.
    The senator nodded again. “And now we don’t know where either he or his smuggled information is. If it falls into the wrong hands—” She didn’t finish.
    “Who is Roberto, really?”
    “He’s Teresa Montenegro’s tennis coach. Also her boyfriend—or at least he has been for the past three months. He was the one who persuaded her to sign up for this tournament. He’s also a leader in the underground freedom movement in San Carlos. I don’t know whether she’s aware of that. He may