“I want you to go on a mission for me.”
“Yes, Mrs. Scott.”
She studied him a moment, wondering how much she could tell him. I can tell him nothing she decided. As long as I am alive, I refuse to put myself or the company in jeopardy. Let him find Patricia first, and then I’ll decide how to handle her.
She leaned forward. “Twenty-eight years ago, an orphan was left on the doorstep of a farmhouse outside Ávila, Spain. I want you to find out where she is today and bring her back here to me as quickly as possible.”
Alan Tucker’s face remained impassive. Mrs. Scott did not like her employees to show emotion.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll leave tomorrow.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Colonel Ramón Acoca was in an expansive mood. All the pieces were finally falling into place.
An orderly came into his office. “Colonel Sostelo has arrived.”
“Show him in.”
I won’t be needing him anymore, Acoca thought. He can go back to his tin soldiers.
Colonel Fal Sostelo walked in. “Colonel.”
“Colonel.”
It’s ironic, Sostelo thought. We hold the same rank, but the scarred giant has the power to break me. Because he’s connected to the OPUS MUNDO.
It was an indignity for Sostelo to have to answer Acoca’s summons as though he were some unimportant subordinate. But he managed to show none of his feelings. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes.” Acoca waved him to a chair. “Sit down. I have some news for you. Jaime Miró has the nuns.”
“What?”
“Yes. They’re traveling with Miró and his men. He’s split them up into three groups.”
“How—how do you know that?”
Ramón Acoca leaned back in his chair. “Do you play chess?”
“No.”
“Pity. It’s a very educational game. In order to be a good player, it’s necessary to get into the mind of your opponent. Jaime Miró and I play chess with each other.”
Fal Sostelo was staring at him. “I don’t understand how—”
“Not literally, Colonel. We don’t use a chess board. We use our minds. I probably understand Jaime Miró better than anyone in the world. I know how his mind works. I knew that he would try to blow up the dam at Puente la Reina. We captured two of his lieutenants there, and it was only by luck that Miró himself got away. I knew that he would try to rescue them, and Miró knew that I knew it.” Acoca shrugged. “I didn’t anticipate that he would use the bulls to effect their escape.” There was a note of admiration in his voice.
“You sound as though you—”
“Admire him? I admire his mind. I despise the man.”
“Do you know where Miró is headed?”
“He is traveling north. I will catch him within the next three days.”
Colonel Sostelo was gaping at him, stunned.
“It will finally be checkmate.”
It was true that Colonel Acoca understood Jaime Miró, and the way his mind worked, but it was not enough for him. The colonel wanted an edge, to ensure victory, and he had found it.
“How—?”
“One of Miró’s terrorists,” Colonel Acoca said, “is an informant.”
Rubio, Tomás, and the two sisters avoided the large cities and took side roads, passing old stone villages with grazing sheep and goats, and shepherds listening to music and soccer games on their transistor radios. It was a colorful juxtaposition of the past and the present, but Lucia had other things on her mind.
She stayed close to Sister Teresa, waiting for the first opportunity to get the cross and leave. The two men were always at their side. Rubio Arzano was the more considerate of the two, a tall, pleasant-looking, cheerful man. A simple-minded peasant, Lucia decided. Tomás Sanjuro was slight and balding. He looks more like a shoe clerk than a terrorist It will be easy to outwit them both.
They walked across the plains north of Ávila by night, cooled by the winds blowing down from the Guadarrama mountains. There was a haunting emptiness about the plains by moonlight. They passed granjas of wheat, olive trees, grapevines, and maize, and they foraged for potatoes and lettuce, fruit from the trees, and eggs and chickens from the hen coops.