Nancy said, "The not-so-funny thing was, I always suspected that the guy I sold those plans to was the one who turned me in, to force me to come over and work for him. Not because I was so brilliant, mind you-- I stole my best idea, right?-- but because he felt that if I depended on him I could never turn on him. I hadn't wanted to go to him because I was ashamed of what I'd done, but I needed to work." She smiled unhappily. "To top it all off, I failed at love repeatedly because I compared everyone to you."

"Gee," he said, "I can't tell you how much better that makes me feel."

"Don't," Nancy said. "Don't be like that. I still loved you. I bought the Los Angeles Times at an international newsstand just to keep up on your activities. And there were times, so very many times, that I wanted to write or phone. But I thought it was best not to."

"Then why did you decide to see me now?" Hood asked. He was in pain again, rocking between that and sadness. "Did you think it would hurt any less today?"

"I couldn't help myself," she admitted. "When I heard that you were in Hamburg, I had to see you. And I think that you wanted to see me."

"Yes," he said, "I ran after you in the hotel lobby. I wanted to see you. I needed to see you." He shook his head. "Jesus, Nancy. I still can't believe it's you."

"It is," she said.

Hood looked into those eyes with which he had spent so many days and nights. The pull was both extraordinary and awful, a dream and a nightmare. His strength to resist them just wasn't in the same class.

The cool twilight breeze chilled the perspiration along Hood's legs and back. He wanted to hate her. Wanted to walk away from her. But what he wanted most of all was to go back in time and stop her from leaving.

Her eyes held him as she slipped her hands around his. Her touch jolted him, then settled into an electric tingle that raced from his chest to his toes. And he knew he had to get away from her.

Hood stepped back. The electric connection broke. "I can't do this," he said.

Nancy said, "You can't do what? Be honest?" She added a little jab, the kind she had always been so good at. "What did politics do to you?"

"You know what I mean, Nancy. I can't stay here with you."

"Not even for an hour? For coffee, to catch up?"

"No," Hood said firmly. "This is my closure."

She grinned. "This is not closure, Paul. This is anything but that."

She was right. Her eyes, her wit, her walk, her presence, her everything had breathed new life into something that had never quite died. Hood wanted to scream.