Democratic congressman Frederick Daggat, one of New Jersey’s three black congressmen, was impressed. He’d half expected a typical revolutionary movement run by tribesmen armed with Soviet rockets, dressed in drab Chinese uniforms, and spouting inane, overused Marxist cliches. Instead he was pleased to discover an organization run on the lines of an American oil corporation. Lusana and his officers came off more like business executives than guerrillas.

Operation Wild Rose I 83

Everything at the cocktail party went strictly according to New York protocol. Even the hostess, Felicia Collins, would have done a midtown Manhattan party proud.

Daggat caught her eye and she excused herself from an admiring group of Somalian legislators. She came over and laid her hand on his arm.

“Enjoying yourself, Congressman?”

“Very much.”

“Hiram and I had hoped you could stay over until the weekend.”

“Regrettably, I must be in Nairobi for a meeting with the Kenya Educational Council tomorrow afternoon.”

“I hope your quarters are satisfactory. We’re a little off the beaten track for a Hilton Hotel franchise.”

“I must admit, Mr. Lusana’s hospitality is far more than I bargained for.”

Daggat looked down at her. Tonight was the first time he had actually seen Felicia Collins up close. Celebrity, singer with three gold records, actress with two Emmys and an Oscar for a difficult role as a black suffragette in the motion picture Road of Poppies. She was every bit as ravishing as she appeared on screen.

Felicia stood cool and poised in green crepe de chine evening pajamas. The small strapless top tied at the waist and the matching pants gave a diaphanous hint of her shapely legs. She wore her hair in a chic short African cut.

“Hiram is on the threshold of greatness, you know.”

He smiled at her high-toned statement. “I imagine the same might have been said once of Attila the Hun.”

“I can easily see why Washington correspondents crowd your press conferences, Congressman.” Her hand remained on his arm. “Your tongue stabs.”

“I believe they refer to it as ‘Daggat’s shaft.’ “

“The better to screw the white establishment with, perhaps?”

He took her hand and exerted an increasing pressure until there was a tiny widening of her huge mahogany eyes. “Tell me, Ms. Collins, what brings a beautiful and renowned black entertainer to the jungle?”

“The same thing that brings the black enfant terrible of the United States Congress,” she countered. “To help a man who is fighting to advance our race.”

“I’m more inclined to believe Hiram Lusana is fighting to advance his private bank account.”

Felicia smiled derisively. “You disappoint me, Congressman. If you’d

84 p>

VIXEN 03

bothered to do your homework, you’d know that is simply not true.”

Daggat stiffened. The gauntlet had been thrown.