The sun was bright, almost painfully bright at the Buenos Aires airport. The airport was a teeming mass of humanity; the city in miniature. Passengers entered, families bid each other goodbye. There were backpacking American students returning to their home country after jaunting all over South America. There were representatives of the small Argentinian middle class, some flying to other parts of Argentina, some flying to Disney World, which was a perenially popular location. There were captains of industry flying hither and yon to oversee their business interests.
A long, black stretch limousine pulled up to the `Departing Flights' section. A swarthy man in a chauffeur's uniform got out, ran around to the back door, and opened it. He assisted the two women inside in getting out and then opened the trunk, removing suitcases from inside. Once done, he stepped to the two women, drew himself up in a military attention stance, and waited.
"Thank you, Ramon," the older woman said in accented Spanish. "Please wait here with the car, but if you need to move it, then go ahead.. I'll call you on the car phone when I need you."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "If I may...good luck to the senorita on her trip to America."
The younger woman smiled at him. Although she was very beautiful, her smile was vaguely frightening. "Thank you, Ramon, I'll do fine." Her Spanish, unlike her mother's, betrayed only upper-crust Buenos Aires, not foreign birth.
Ramon did as he was told and got back behind the wheel. A few minutes later, a policeman whistled piercingly and pointed at him. He shrugged and drove the car away, circling the airport until she called for him again.
The younger woman began to gather her bags and walked into the airport. Her mother followed her.
"You don't need to do this, you know," she said in English.
"I want to do this, Mother," the younger woman said. She switched to her mother's native tongue without a thought.
"It's dangerous."
The younger woman wheeled and looked at her mother. Her maroon eyes fixed on her.
"You tell me this is dangerous? Excuse me, mother, didn't you spend years of your life with a shotgun and pistol in the barrios of Newark?"
Maria Alvarez, who a lifetime and a continent ago had been known as Clarice Starling, sighed and put a hand on her daughter's arm. "That was different. I was trained, for one thing."
"And you trained me," Susana Ardelia Alvarez answered back. Her head flicked in annoyance, the way her father's had. "I know what I'm doing, mother."
"Do you know what will happen to you if they find out who you really are?" Starling implored. "I can't protect you there."
"Nothing will happen to me," Susana said. "Mother, I am twenty-one years old. I do not need a protector."
Starling sighed. Since the death of her husband six months previously, she had felt powerless. Thankfully, Dr. Alonso Alvarez died quickly, without suffering, of a heart attack. He had enough time to tell his wife and child goodbye. He died a free man, without anyone ever knowing that he had once been Dr. Hannibal Lecter. But he lived on in his only daughter, who had inherited his mind as well as his eyes. And now that daughter was determined to go to America. Starling didn't allow her daughter to go as much as acquiesce to her going: like her father, Susana would not be denied.
"I'll call you when I arrive," Susana said. She walked to the ticketing agent and checked her bags. She did not bother to bring any weapons with her, as her mother had worried that she had; knives were just as easy to get in America, and she did not anticipate that guns would be necessary.
"You're being silly. It's been almost twenty-five years since we left the U.S.," Starling implored.
"Mother, someone needs to settle up Father's accounts."
"They're settled. This is stuff that happened before you were born."
"He would want me to," Susana said fiercely. Starling sighed. Susana had inherited certain things from her mother as well as her father. Clarice Starling would have fought with anyone in an instant over a slur on her father's memory. So it was with Susana Alvarez.
She knew her attempts to dissuade her daughter would be as successful as if she tried to hold back the Amazon river with her bare hands. Susana was a force of nature where her father was concerned.
They arrived at the gate and sat to talk for a bit. Hopefully, Starling thought, she would be able to at least get her daughter to be careful. When they called for first-class boarding, Susana rose, hugged her mother, and stepped onto the plane without a second thought. With a sense of resignation, Starling lifted her cellular phone to call Ramon with the car. She watched the lumbering plane take off into the sky, bearing her only child in its maw.
A long, black stretch limousine pulled up to the `Departing Flights' section. A swarthy man in a chauffeur's uniform got out, ran around to the back door, and opened it. He assisted the two women inside in getting out and then opened the trunk, removing suitcases from inside. Once done, he stepped to the two women, drew himself up in a military attention stance, and waited.
"Thank you, Ramon," the older woman said in accented Spanish. "Please wait here with the car, but if you need to move it, then go ahead.. I'll call you on the car phone when I need you."
"Yes, ma'am," he said. "If I may...good luck to the senorita on her trip to America."
The younger woman smiled at him. Although she was very beautiful, her smile was vaguely frightening. "Thank you, Ramon, I'll do fine." Her Spanish, unlike her mother's, betrayed only upper-crust Buenos Aires, not foreign birth.
Ramon did as he was told and got back behind the wheel. A few minutes later, a policeman whistled piercingly and pointed at him. He shrugged and drove the car away, circling the airport until she called for him again.
The younger woman began to gather her bags and walked into the airport. Her mother followed her.
"You don't need to do this, you know," she said in English.
"I want to do this, Mother," the younger woman said. She switched to her mother's native tongue without a thought.
"It's dangerous."
The younger woman wheeled and looked at her mother. Her maroon eyes fixed on her.
"You tell me this is dangerous? Excuse me, mother, didn't you spend years of your life with a shotgun and pistol in the barrios of Newark?"
Maria Alvarez, who a lifetime and a continent ago had been known as Clarice Starling, sighed and put a hand on her daughter's arm. "That was different. I was trained, for one thing."
"And you trained me," Susana Ardelia Alvarez answered back. Her head flicked in annoyance, the way her father's had. "I know what I'm doing, mother."
"Do you know what will happen to you if they find out who you really are?" Starling implored. "I can't protect you there."
"Nothing will happen to me," Susana said. "Mother, I am twenty-one years old. I do not need a protector."
Starling sighed. Since the death of her husband six months previously, she had felt powerless. Thankfully, Dr. Alonso Alvarez died quickly, without suffering, of a heart attack. He had enough time to tell his wife and child goodbye. He died a free man, without anyone ever knowing that he had once been Dr. Hannibal Lecter. But he lived on in his only daughter, who had inherited his mind as well as his eyes. And now that daughter was determined to go to America. Starling didn't allow her daughter to go as much as acquiesce to her going: like her father, Susana would not be denied.
"I'll call you when I arrive," Susana said. She walked to the ticketing agent and checked her bags. She did not bother to bring any weapons with her, as her mother had worried that she had; knives were just as easy to get in America, and she did not anticipate that guns would be necessary.
"You're being silly. It's been almost twenty-five years since we left the U.S.," Starling implored.
"Mother, someone needs to settle up Father's accounts."
"They're settled. This is stuff that happened before you were born."
"He would want me to," Susana said fiercely. Starling sighed. Susana had inherited certain things from her mother as well as her father. Clarice Starling would have fought with anyone in an instant over a slur on her father's memory. So it was with Susana Alvarez.
She knew her attempts to dissuade her daughter would be as successful as if she tried to hold back the Amazon river with her bare hands. Susana was a force of nature where her father was concerned.
They arrived at the gate and sat to talk for a bit. Hopefully, Starling thought, she would be able to at least get her daughter to be careful. When they called for first-class boarding, Susana rose, hugged her mother, and stepped onto the plane without a second thought. With a sense of resignation, Starling lifted her cellular phone to call Ramon with the car. She watched the lumbering plane take off into the sky, bearing her only child in its maw.