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Unformatted text preview: of the market downtown. He missed Brazil, Danilo's home, with its vastness and beauty and stark contrasts, its teeming cities and backward villages, its gentle people. He ached for his beloved Eva; the softness of her touch, the beauty of her smile, the wonders of her flesh, the warmth of her soul. He would not live without her. Why can't a man have more than one life? Where was it written that you couldn't start over? And over? Patrick had died, and Danilo had been captured. He had survived both the death of the first and the seizure of the second. Why couldn't he escape again? A third life was calling-this one, though, without the sorrow of the first or the shadows of the second. This would be the perfect Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, life with Eva. They would live somewhere, anywhere, as long as they were together and the past couldn't catch them. They would live in a grand home and reproduce like rabbits. She was strong, but she had limits, like everyone. She loved her father, and home was a powerful magnet. All true Cariocas love their city, and consider it specially created by the Almighty. He had placed her in danger, and now he must protect her. Could he do it again? Or had his luck run out? CUTTER AGREED to an eight o'clock meeting only because Mr. McDermott insisted it was urgent. The federal building was creaking to life as a meager handful of bureaucrats arrived at such an early hour. The throng would get there at nine. Cutter was not abrupt, but certainly not hospitable. Chats with pushy lawyers ranked low on his list of favorite chores. He fixed scalding coffee in Styrofoam cups, and cleared some of the debris from his tiny desk. Sandy thanked him nicely for agreeing to see him, and Cutter softened a bit. "You remember that phone call you received thirteen days ago?" Sandy asked. "The lady from Brazil?" "Sure." "I've met with her a few times. She's a lawyer for Patrick." "Is she he...
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