"Any more transparent and it would be invisible."

She sighed heavily. "Sorry for the clumsy attempt to deceive you. You didn't deserve it. Marcus wanted to meet you so he could thank you. He was sincere about that. I didn't expect you to get into a spit- ting match. Please accept my apology."

"Only if you'll have a nightcap in the Palace lounge after we take a long walk around the neighborhood." "You drive a hard bargain." Austin gave her a devilish grin. "As your friend Mr. Ryan said, I'm a difficult man."

COPENHAGEN SEEMED TO be in the midst of a major cel- ebration, but the bash was only a normal night in one of Eu- rope's liveliest cities. Music issued from dozens of cafes. The parks and squares along an expansive pedestrian mall named Stroget teemed with strollers and street performers. The party atmosphere was fun, but it was hard to carry on a conversation. Austin suggested that they turn down a quiet street lined with closed boutiques and make their way back to the hotel.

The deserted street was dark except for a few shop windows and softly glowing gas lamps. Austin was listening to Therri tell an an- ecdote about Becker, when he noticed movement ahead and saw two figures step out of the shadows into a puddle of yellow light.

Austin knew the Danes to be low-key and extra polite, and Copen- hagen was relatively crime-free. It didn't bother him when the two men took up a stance blocking the sidewalk. Maybe they'd had too much Akavit. He took Therri s arm and prepared to walk around the pair. He reassessed the situation when the men produced long clubs from behind their backs.

Hearing a scraping footfall, Austin glanced over his shoulder. Two more men, also wielding clubs, were approaching from behind. Therri had become aware of the threat without comprehending it and had stopped talking. In what looked like a rehearsed strategy, the men began to encircle them.

Austin looked around for a weapon. Figuring that anything was better than nothing, he grabbed the lid from a row of trash cans. The heavy-duty cover was made of thick, solid aluminum, he was glad to see. He stepped protectively in front of Therri and used the lid like a medieval infantryman's shield to fend off a clanging blow from the nearest attacker. The man brought the club up to strike again, but Austin went from defense to offense and straight-armed the heavy lid into the attacker's face. The man yelped with pain, and his knees buckled. Austin lifted the lid in both hands and brought it down on the man's head, where it made a sound like a gong. His hands hurt at the shock of the impact, but the attacker was even worse off, crum- pling onto the sidewalk in a dark heap.

Another attacker swiftly closed in. Austin jammed the lid in his face, but the attacker anticipated the move, stepping back out of range and clubbing the lid harmlessly aside. Austin was trying to keep the tender left side of his rib from being hit. The assailant sensed a weakness and landed a glancing blow to Austin's head. Austin saw whirling galaxies. At the same time, he heard Therri's scream. One attacker held her while the other pulled her back by the hair to expose her throat. A hard blow to her windpipe could be fatal.

Austin blinked the stars from his eyes and tried to go to her aid. His assailant stepped in front of him and brought his club down as if he were wielding a two-handed broadsword. Austin deflected the blow, but it knocked the lid from his hand, and he lost his balance. Down on one knee, Austin raised his arm to protect his head. He saw wide faces and glittering eyes, clubs raised in the air, and braced him- self for a shower of blows to rain down on his skull. Instead, he heard thuds and grunts and men yelling in two different languages, one in- comprehensible, the other Spanish. The attackers who had encircled him melted away like snowflakes.

He struggled to his feet and saw figures running away from him. Clubs rattled to the pavement. Shadows were moving in every direc- tion, and he was reminded of the scene in the movie Ghost where the shades of the dead take the damned to the underworld. Then the shad- ows disappeared. He and Therri were alone, except for the slumped form of the man he had clouted. The attacker's friends had apparently abandoned him.

'Are you all right?" Austin said, taking Them's arm.

'Yes, I'm fine, but as you can tell, I'm very shaky. What about you:-

He lightly touched the side of his head. "My head feels like raw hamburger and my skull is full of twittering sparrows, but other than that I'm fine. It could have been worse."

"I lnow she said with a shudder. "Thank goodness those men saved us."

"What men? I was a little busy with my imitation oflvanhoe." "They came out of nowhere. I think there were two of them. They went after the others and chased them away."

Austin kicked the battered trash-can lid. "Hell, I thought I scared them off with my head-masher." He brushed the dirt off his ripped and dirty pants. "Damn, this is the first new suit I've bought in years."

Therri couldn't help laughing. "Incredible. You narrowly missed being beaten to death, and you're worried about your suit." She em- braced him in a warm hug.

Therri was holding him tightly. He didn't even complain about the pressure of her body against his knife wound. He was thinking that she smelled very good, when suddenly she stiffened, backed away from him and looked over his shoulder with horror in her eyes.

"Kurt, watch out!"

Austin turned and saw that the attacker who'd been lying on the sidewalk was slowly getting to his feet. The man stared at them for a few seconds, apparently still dazed. Austin clenched his fists and started toward the man, ready to send him back to la-la land. He stopped in midstep when a small circle of intense red appeared in the man's forehead.

"Get down!" Austin yelled at Therri. When she hesitated, he pulled her to the sidewalk, shielding her body with his.

The man started toward them, then he stopped as if he had walked into an invisible wall, went down on his knees and fell face down onto the sidewalk. Austin heard footsteps and saw a figure running down the street. Austin pulled Therri to her feet and apologized for knocking her down.

"What happened?" She seemed to be in a daze.

"Someone shot our friend. I saw the spot from a laser sight."

"Why would they do that?"

"Maybe his company has a strict severance policy."

"Or maybe they didn't want him talking," she said, staring at the dead body.

"Either way, this isn't a healthy place to be."

Austin took Therri by the arm and guided her away from the scene. He kept a sharp eye out for a return of their attackers, not re- laxing until the lights of the Palace Hotel were in sight. The hotel cocktail lounge seemed like another world. Austin and Therri sat in a corner booth surrounded by the cheerful Babel of voices and the tinkling of a jazz piano playing Cole Porter. Austin had ordered two double scotches.

Therri took a deep swallow other drink and looked around at the other patrons. "Did that really happen out there in the street?"

"It wasn't a production of West Side Story, if that's what you mean. Can you tell me what you remember?"

"It all happened so fast. Two of those men with the clubs grabbed me." She frowned. "Loo what those SOBs did to my hair." Anger was replacing her fear. "Who were those jerks?"

"The attack was well-coordinated. They knew we were in Copen- hagen and must have been watching us tonight in order to set up the ambush. What's your guess?"