A New Argentina (England~)

[Argentina]

Another suitcase in another hall
So what happens now?
Take your picture off another wall
_______________________

-The Perón Era-
October 17, 1945-July 26, 1952

January 26, 1944

The bait had been set, Evita had gotten her puppet's attention; her wit and charm having come in perfect use at the gala despite the cause for it. While she had felt the pain of the earthquake and all those who died in San Juan that fateful day...She had much bigger problems to worry about. Many of her problems really began in 1916 when Yrigoyen and his band of Radicals assumed power with the first national suffurage, but with the military coups beginning in 1919 and the attempted assassination of Alfred's leader* was truly the beginning of her troubles...And the beginning of the reign of terror in her country.

Shifts in military power, coups, bombings and shootouts, electoral fraud, persecution of the political opposition, and corruption within the government had forced her to go into anonymity and a form of house arrest for her own safety at the insistance of several. She felt vulnerable, weak, powerless to what was happening in her country that she couldn't prevent, let alone stop. Every day she heard of more violence...It felt as though every day there was a new military leader after the other was overthrown. Each with differing views...Each bringing more violence than the last. Evita at least was keeping with the news of what was happening in the war, though the man who was in power after another coup sympathized with the axis powers...With having to be in hiding, her hands were tied on the issue. Then...As though as an answer to her wishes, a man who she believed to be the bringer of relief to her problems.

Colonel Juan Perón.

She at least partly knew of his plans and ideals...As much as she didn't agree with his beliefs, of his ideals that seemed to be a cross between socialism and fascism. However, he was a man who was rapidly gaining power and was well on his way to becoming President of her country. He was her ticket to be heard, to be out among her people in freedom again. Under the guise of a normal human, if that was what it took and to potentially have to give herself to this man for the good of her country and her people...

But there was one problem with her plan...A certain Englishman. Her best friend, confidant...The one who held her heart in the palm of his hand. Eyes closing, she took a piece of stationary from it's place on her desk and a pen. Eyes opening to a half-lid, her fingers gripped tightly around the pen's frame and began to write.

__________

Arthur,

I hope you are well, I know you have told me to be careful...You don't have to worry, I have been. I believe I have found the solution to my problems with the political riots and the rapid and violent shifts in power. His name is Colonel Juan Perón, he is rapidly rising to power and gaining followers among my people. I know you won't like me doing this Arthur, and please believe me when I say I really don't want to do this.

I managed to catch the Colonel's attention at a gala two nights ago, I believe he is the perfect cover for me to be able to do the work I need to do for my people. They are starving...But I could do nothing with all of the turmoil and changes in power. You know why Arthur, my hands were tied, I couldn't and still can't reveal myself. I believe that using the Colonel as a front to get my work done is of the absolute necessity. I know you probably won't support my decision, but there isn't much else I can do. I need to stop the hostility and poverty somehow, and if it means deceiving a man and having to give myself up to do it, then so be it. This is all I will be able to do to reach out without revealing myself and run the risk of being leashed and forced to carry out the agendas of the hostile militants. I will keep you informed on my situation, as well as the state of my country. Please also keep me informed with the situation with the war.

Te amo Arthur...I always have, but I must do what is best for my people.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Always,
Evita Duarte--------

__________

Her eyes squeezed shut as she folded the letter, placing it in an envelope and shakily getting to her feet. Writing the address on the front, she glanced back when she heard a quiet knock at her door. Wiping her eyes, she moved to open the door to reveal her postman. Handing the letter to the man, she spoke in a quiet voice; "Make sure this gets delivered to London...Immediately." While looking puzzled, the man nodded and turned and left but not before giving her her own mail. Closing the door after him, her fingers fell loose around the papers as her back pressed against the door, sliding downward with her fingers clenched tightly into her now straightened, blond hair.

"Arthur...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...Please...Please forgive me for this..."

Where am I going to?
You'll get by you always have before
Where am I going to?
_______________________

A/N: *: In 1928, anarchist extremists in Buenos Aires caused a wave of bombings and police shootouts in failed attempts to assassinate Herbert Hoover.

[iggy]

Another suitcase in another hall
Take the picture off another wall
Where is she going to?
_______________________

January 30, 1944

Things had gotten to where Arthur dreaded going to the mailbox. Always some business or another to attend to, always some bit of bad news waiting in an inoccuous white envelope. Though the war was turning around... he still wanted nothing more than to lie down and not move for the next century.

Sighing as he walked to the door, steps heavy and slow, he pulled the letters of the last four days out of the maildrop, flipping through the envelopes. Business.. Spain complaining about the embargo.. news from the front... bills... He was about to say "bugger it" to the whole thing, until a neat script caught his attention, and a foreign face on a stamp. Handwriting he hadn't seen in... fifteen years? Twenty?

Without a word, he started towards the study. He dropped the majority of the mail on a table unceremoniously, still holding that one letter in his hand as he continued to his desk, turning it over in his hands slowly. Eyes never leaving the small beige packet, he fell into his chair.

He felt as though every movement was slowed, muted, as he reached for the letter opener and slit the envelope open across the top.

When he read the words "I know you have told me to be careful..." he started worrying.

That worry quickly turned to confusion, and just as quickly swirled into something resembling jealousy as he read. "Managed to catch the Colonel's attention," had she... Well, he wasn't confused as to what that meant.

One hand clenching into a fist, he dropped the page onto the desk. The images that flooded into his mind, unbidden and unwanted... He didn't know his hand had moved until he felt the ache from where the side of his fist had crashed against the hardwood of his desk. He could just see it... Eva was a smart woman, with all the right curves in all the right places, and a thorough knowledge of how to use every single one of them to her advantage.

He was sure it had started with a shy glance... a soft touch on the hand... and ended in an evening sweating between the sheets.. limbs entangled.. breathy sounds... Pounding his fist against the desk again, his other hand tangled itself in his hair, gripping and pulling at the strands harshly, as though trying to pull the imagined sights and sounds out of his very mind and be rid of them.

....there was still more to read, though.

His hands shaking, Arthur forced himself to pick up the letter again.

She believed he was the "perfect cover," did she... She shouldn't need a bloody cover. Eva Duarte, Argentina herself, shouldn't need a cover to move among her people... He understood her pain, in every sense of the word, but it just... Something about it disgusted him to his very core - the soul of the land and the people and the culture wasn't free to act as such.

But she was right in assuming he would be less than supportive of her decision. She shouldn't have to sneak about, put herself in dangerous and compromising positions. But, there was little he could do there... Every bit of this just disgusted him, though. Everything from the way the Argentine people seemed to think business ought to be conducted, to the fact that Eva was terrified of revealing herself to them, to the fact that she was "giving herself up" (his mind substituted "whoring herself out" to a militaristic, facist pig - and probably others before him, in order to get herself where she could get to him - he was under no delusions as to how women were thought of in modern society) and sacrificing her own feelings and thoughts and ideals just to try to help them.

Setting the letter back on the desk as he finished reading with a sigh, Arthur rubbed his temples wearily. He didn't like it. He didn't like any of it. But he had to write back. He couldn't let himself not respond. Picking up a pen and pulling out a piece of plain parchment, he stopped the first three salutations that entered his mind before writing.

He settled on keeping this as bare as possible, and began.

Eva,

You know me well enough to know that I'm incapable of not worrying. However, I'll be doing my best. I have been well. The war has drastically shifted in our favor, and will hopefully be a thing of the past very soon. However, we're still on high alert. Things can change in a day, eh?

I can't criticise you for your use of the Colonel as a cover for doing work. God knows I've done my share of compromising. I will say only that I'm not going anywhere, and you know how to reach me.

I'll keep you up-to-date on the European situation.

Don't take too long on the response, serch.

Arthur Kirkland

Without looking at the letter again, Arthur dropped the pen and folded the page, tucking it into an envelope quietly, almost contemplatively.

Going to the front door mechanically, he dropped the addressed envelope into the box from which the postman would pick it up the next day. Without looking around outside, he closed the door and headed straight for his study and the cabinet with the warm, friendly amber liquid locked behind the clear etched glass.

Part of him hoped he wouldn't get a response. A response might hurt more than not getting one at all.

_______________________
She'll get by, she always has before
Where is she going to?

_{Don't ask anymore...}

[Argentina]

Time and time again I've said that I don't care
That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through and through
_______________

February 9, 1944

Rushing was something Eva wasn't known for, as well as something she didn't like to do in the least. She liked to think through and plan her next move, plan possible courses of action. However with the current situation she was in, as well as time being of the pure essence, she knew the rush was a necessity. She had to move quickly with her puppet, she had him baited and caught...Now it was time to add the strings and become the puppeteer. Conditions were worsening, every day news of more political riots and issues of disagreeable political leaders filled the papers. Though she didn't need cold, unfeeling pieces of paper to tell her about all of the problems that she at the current moment couldn't solve. Despite the fact that she was 'in hiding,' it still didn't stop her from her daily walk around the city though an activity that once brought great pride now only broke her heart. Parts of Buenos Aires were mangled and Civil-War torn, it was her descamisados against the military. It was something she hoped to change, very soon.

Even as such, her plan was working. Even though the two had just met, already she had Colonel Perón right where she wanted him; wrapped around her finger to the point where she could get anything she asked of him. This situation was one of those times when it paid to be a woman, though old experiences and finding what worked and what didn't through trial and error over the course of many years had been over the past few years have become extremely helpful in her conquest.

Getting even closer to the Colonel quickly was almost an immediate necessity, get closer to him in turn meant getting closer to the military leaders working behind him as well as to truly find out what his plans were for her country. How did he expect to stop the conflicts? How did he expect to bring the people together? How did he expect to take care of her descamidados who were out of work, starving, lusting to be heard? All of these issues and more she strove to fix, she wasn't going to allow her country to be riot-ridden and broken any longer.

Hearing a loud knock at her front door, she glanced up from that day's paper with a quiet sigh. Removing the glasses from her face and setting them down on top of the paper to cover the bold headline, she pushed herself up from her seat on the couch before fixing the crinkles in her skirt. Walking toward the door and checking the peep-hole, she opened the door with a small smile and a slight tilt of her head as she began to speak in her own native tongue. It felt so strange to do so after so long, after all most of the time she only spoke in English.

"Buenas dias Juan, you have mail for me I take it?"[/i] She watched as the postman gave a nod and handed her several letters, a small smile forming on his own lips.

"Buenas dias Miss Eva, yes I do...Ma'am, if I may, I can't get over how different you look now. I will never understand why you did what you did to your hair, it doesn't suit you."[/i] She let out a quiet sigh and a simple nod, hand waving dismissively.

"Believe me, I know and trust me when I say that I didn't want to do this. You know why I did it Juan, I know I'll be moving soon just...Thought I would let you know."

"I figured as such ma'am...I want to be the first to tell you...Good luck."[/i] She gave the older gentleman a sad smile, holding out her hand as the man took it and gave it a firm shake. This man she had known since he was a boy, she watched him grow up on that very street into a wonderful man. She still didn't understand how he found out her secret, but he did soon after meeting her when he was a boy. She knew he knew a lot about her along with many of the neighborhood kids that she watched grow up, always coming to her for stories about when she was younger. Her more...Active days.

"Thank you old friend...I can at least promise you that very soon, things are going to change. You'll still see me around, I always come back to my haunts, you know that."

"I do...Goodbye Miss Eva, good luck."[/i] When the man turned and left, she closed the door behind her and turned the lock. Walking back toward the couch and flipping through the envelopes, she let out a sigh. Bills, Chile being a whiny little brat as he always has been, though at seeing the neat, yet still untidy scrawl that she hadn't seen in close to fifteen years she stopped dead in her tracks. She didn't expect to get a response back so quickly, let alone really one at all. Both he and Alfred had told her to go underground for her own safety, and honestly she didn't trust many to handle what goes in or out after what happened before. She actually thought that what happened would happen again and Arthur not get her letter.

Dropping the other letters on the coffee table as she walked, eyes never leaving the envelope. As though her body were moving on its own, she didn't realize she was in her office until the sound of a door creaking open and closing behind her as well as sitting down in her desk chair snapped her out of her trance. With a shaking head, she picked up a letter opener and cut the top seal. Setting down the tool, she took out the letter and began to read.

She honestly wasn't surprised by how bare it actually was, nor by him saying that he was incapable of worrying. He was just a natural worrier, though she had no room to talk since she was as well. So the war was finally turning, good...From the sounds of it as well as from the news she was getting, it should be over soon. She felt her brows fall as a small, yet sad smile crossed her lips at the last thing he said. He wasn't going anywhere and she knew how to reach him. She really, truly hoped that that promise can be upheld. If she is going to do what she needed to do...She would need that support, especially with what she knew she was getting herself into. She knew he wouldn't be happy with her decision, however...What choice did she have? She had to do something, this was the only possible route she could take.

Setting down the letter with a quiet sigh, she pulled a piece of stationary and a pen from one of the trays on her desk and began to write.

Arthur,

I am relieved to hear that the war is finally turning, hopefully it will come to a speedy end. All I ask is that you, and all of you, be careful. I still wish I could have been there to help, but with circumstances as they are I couldn't. I know you won't stop worrying, I don't expect you too. I can at least assure you that I'll be fine, I know where to turn too if things get bad.

I honestly expected you too criticize me some for my decision, though the fact that you're not is a little disappointing. No, in all seriousness, I know you don't like or support my decision. I don't like it any more than you do to be perfectly frank, but things are getting worse and I must move quicker than I really wanted too. I already have him wrapped around my finger, it will only be a matter of time before I can begin to get close to the other leaders.

Since I doubt I will get a response back from you in time to say this, Feliz Día de San Valentín. Left something in the envelope for you, something that I've been meaning to give you for a long time.

Te amo, ahora y siempre...Keep me informed.

Always,
----Evita Duarte

Setting down the pen and folding the letter without as much as a word, she stuffed it in the envelope with a frown. Reaching down and opening the top right door, she looked down as her fingers wrapped around a gold chain and pulled it from the wooden enclave. Dangling from the chain was a small gold cross, at the very least she thought she would get him another one since she never gave back the one she stole all those years ago though admitably still wears and never takes off. Looking at it for a second, she dropped it in the envelope and licked the seal before closing the flap.

Mechanically pushing herself up to her feet and leaving her office to move toward the front door, she unlocked the door and stuck the letter in her mailbox by the door where she knew it would be picked up that next day. Closing and locking the door again, her eyes closed as her forehead rested against the wood. It would seem as though she was going to be seeing the bottom of the glass several times tonight, after all...She knew where she was heading, at least for one night to try and forget before submerging back into the dark reality.

But every time it matters all my words desert me
So anyone can hurt me, and they do
_______________