And Colonel Acoca knew what the unspoken part of the conversation was: Fail and you will be punished. Now his career was in jeopardy. And all because some stupid policemen had let Miró walk away under their noses. Jaime Miró might hide anywhere. But the nuns…A wave of excitement coursed through Colonel Acoca. The nuns! They were the key. Jaime Miró might hide anywhere, but the sisters could find sanctuary only in another convent. And it would almost certainly be in a convent of the same order.
Colonel Acoca turned to study the map again. And there it was: Mendavia. There was a convent of the Cistercian order at Mendavia. That’s where they’re headed, Acoca thought triumphantly. Well, so am I.
Only I’ll be there first, waiting for them.
The journey for Ricardo and Graciela was coming to an end.
The last few days had been the happiest Ricardo had ever known. He was being hunted by the military and the police, his capture meant certain death, and yet none of that seemed to matter. It was as though he and Graciela had carved out an island in time, a paradise where nothing could touch them. They had turned their desperate journey into a wonderful adventure that they shared together.
They talked endlessly, exploring and explaining, and their words were tendrils that drew them even closer together. They spoke of the past, the present, and the future. Particularly the future.
“We’ll be married in church,” Ricardo said. “You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world…”
And Graciela could visualize the scene and was thrilled by it.
“And we’ll live in the most beautiful house…”
And she thought: I’ve never had a house of my own, or a real room of my own.
There was the little casa she had shared with her mother and all the uncles, and then the convent cell, living with the sisters.
“And we’ll have handsome sons and beautiful daughters…”
And I will give them all the things I never had. They will be so loved.
And Graciela’s heart soared.
But there was one thing troubling her. Ricardo was a soldier fighting for a cause he passionately believed in. Would he be content living in France, withdrawing from the battle? She knew she had to discuss this with him.
“Ricardo—how much longer do you think this revolution is going to go on?”
It’s already gone on too long, Ricardo thought. The government had made peace overtures, but ETA had done worse than reject them. It had responded to the offers with a series of increased terrorist attacks. Ricardo had tried to discuss it with Jaime.
“They’re willing to compromise, Jaime. Shouldn’t we meet them halfway?”
“Their offer is a trick—they want to destroy us. They’re forcing us to go on fighting.”
And because Ricardo loved Jaime and believed in him, he continued to support him. But the doubts refused to die. And as the bloodshed increased, so did his uncertainty. And now Graciela was asking, How much longer do you think this revolution is going to go on?
“I don’t know,” Ricardo told her. “I wish it were over. But I will tell you this, my darling. Nothing will ever come between us—not even a war. There will never be words enough to tell you how much I love you.”
And they went on dreaming.
They traveled during the night, making their way through the fertile, green countryside, past El Burgo and Soria. At dawn, from the top of a hill, they saw Logroño in the far distance. To the left of the road was a stand of pine trees and beyond that a forest of electric-power lines. Graciela and Ricardo followed the winding road down to the outskirts of the bustling city.
“Where are we going to meet the others?” Graciela asked.
Ricardo pointed to a poster on a building they were passing. It read:
CIRQUE JAPON!
THE WORLD’S MOST
SENSATIONAL CIRCUS FRESH FROM JAPAN!
JULY 24TH FOR ONE WEEK
AVENIDA CLUB DE PORTIVO.
“There,” Ricardo told her. “We’ll meet them there this afternoon.”
In another part of the city, Megan, Jaime, Amparo, and Felix were also looking at a circus poster. There was a feeling of enormous tension in the group. Amparo was never out of their sight. Ever since the incident at Vitoria, the men treated Amparo as an outcast, ignoring her most of the time and speaking to her only when necessary.