"Herr Hood," said Lang, as the man arrived, "allow me to introduce Richard Hausen."

"Welcome to Hamburg," Hausen said. His voice was resonant and refined, his English impeccable. He greeted each man personally with a handshake and a little bow.

Hood was surprised that Hausen had arrived without a flock of assistants. American officials didn't go anywhere without at least two young, go-get-'em aides in tow.

Stoll had a different first impression. "He reminds me of Dracula," the Operations Support Officer whispered.

Hood tended to ignore Stoll's frequent under-the-breath comments, though this one was near the mark. Hausen was dressed in a black suit. His face was pale but intense. And he exuded a distinctive Old World courtliness. But from what Hood had read before leaving, Dracula's nemesis Dr. Van Helsing would have been more accurate for this man. But instead of prowling for vampires, Richard Hausen hunted neo-Nazis. Op-Center's Staff Psychologist Liz Gordon had used the resources of the United Nations Gopher information site on the Internet to prepare a paper on Hausen. She described him as having a "Captain Ahab-like hatred of right-wing radicals." Liz wrote that not only did Hausen see them as a threat to his nation's status as a member of the international community, but that "he attacks them with a fervor which suggests personal animus, perhaps something in his past. It could well have been born and nurtured in the bullying he probably took as a child, something which happens to many farm boys who are sent to a larger city to go to school."

Martha Mackall had suggested, in a footnote, that Hood should beware of one thing. Hausen might be seeking closer ties with the U.S. to infuriate nationals and actually draw attacks on himself. She wrote, "That would give him a martyr image which is always good for politicians."

Hood put that thought in the mental drawer marked "maybe." For now, he took Hausen's presence at the meeting as an indication of just how much the German electronics industry wanted to do business with the U.S. government.

Lang led them to the limousine and what he promised would be the finest authentic German meal in Hamburg, as well as the best view of the Elbe. Hood didn't care what he ate or where. All he wanted was to quickly lose himself in work and conversation and get his feet back under him.

As it happened, Hood enjoyed the food enormously, though as the dessert plates were being cleared away, Stoll leaned over and confided that the eel soup and blackberries with sugar and cream just didn't satisify the same way as a nice, fat taco and strawberry shake.