It was the sweetest sound McCaskey had ever heard. The sweetest sight McCaskey ever saw was what looked like police sharpshooters leaning from the open doors and aiming CETME assault rifles down at the soldiers.
McCaskey heard sirens along the avenues alongside the palace. Aideen and Striker must have gotten out and given the police enough intel to send in the cavalry-serious business cavalry.
McCaskey started walking again. “Come on. Father,” he said. “They’re on our side.” The dual air and land approach suggested to McKaskey that the police were waiting for the army to split up like this so they could pin both parts down. That would significantly weaken resistance.
McCaskey and Father Norberto finished crossing the courtyard as the sirens neared and the choppers held the soldiers back. McCaskey ached to embrace Maria. But in his present condition it would probably cost him his lungs. She was also hurt, and Luis needed attention.
“It’s good to see you again,” Maria said, smiling.
“Did I hear correctly? About Amadori?” McCaskey nodded as he looked at Luis. The officer was ashen, his breathing very shallow. McCaskey checked the improvised bandage. Then he took off his own shirt and began tearing it into fresh strips.
“Father,” McCaskey said, “we have to get Luis to a hospital. Please-would you flag down a car?” “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Norberto said.
McCaskey looked toward the street. A police car had pulled up to the curb and four men had gotten out. They were dressed in distinctive dark blue berets, white belts, and spats.
“The Guardia Real,” Maria said. “The Royal Guard.” A fifth man got out as well. He was a tall, whitehaired gentleman with a proud military bearing.
He approached quickly.
“It’s General de la Vega,” McCaskey said. Then he shouted, “We need help here. Luis needs a doctor!” was l’Ambulancia!” Maria added.
The Royal Guard members began running toward them. One of them shouted something to Maria.
She nodded then turned to McCaskey. “They’re setting up a mobile field hospital in the Plaza de Oriente,” she said. “They’re going to take him there.” McCaskey looked down at Luis. He finished bandaging the Interpol officer then took his hand and squeezed it hard. “Hold on, partner,” McCaskey said. “Help’s here.” Luis squeezed back weakly. His eyes remained shut. Father Norberto knelt beside Luis to pray for him. The priest was obviously hurting. It was also obvious that he had no intention of letting that stop him.
A moment later gunfire erupted once again from inside the palace. McCaskey and Maria exchanged glances.
“Sounds like the government’s playing for keeps,” McCaskey said.
Maria nodded. “We’re going to lose a lot of good people today. And for what? One man’s insane vision.” “Or his vanity,” McCaskey said. “I’m never sure which one motivates a dictator more.” As they spoke, the police arrived. Two men lifted Luis up gently and carried him toward the plaza. The general thanked McCaskey and Maria for all they had done, then ran after them. The other two Royal Guardsmen stopped and lifted Maria.
“An honor guard.” She grinned.
McCaskey smiled and rose, assisted by Father Norberto. They walked alongside Maria as she was carried away. McCaskey felt a knifelike jab with every step he took. But he kept up with the guards. It was rare to get a second chance at anything, whether it was the opportunity to fix a wrong choice at a moment of crisis or to reclaim a lost love. McCaskey had experienced both. He knew what it was like to be tortured by events his indecision or fear or weakness had caused.
If Maria Comeja would have him, there was no way he intended to lose her again. Not even for a minute. The pain of blowing a second chance would be much, much worse.
Maria sought and found McCaskey’s hand. A moment later her eyes found his. And at least one pain stopped when it became clear that she felt the same.
FIFTY Tuesday, 7:20 a.m. Washington, B.c.
Though he hadn’t slept much over the past twentyfour hours, Paul Hood felt surprisingly refreshed.
He had spoken with Colonel August and Aideen Marley when they returned to Interpol headquarters.
The fate of Darrell McCaskey, Maria Comeja, and Luis Garcia de la Vega hadn’t been known then- although General Manolo de la Vega had assured him that when the time was right, a police assault squad would be going in even if he had to kick each butt in personally.
McCaskey finally called from a field hospital only to say that they were all right. A more detailed report would have to wait until they were on a secure line back at Interpol.
Hood, Rodgers, Herbert, Coffey, and Plummer celebrated with a fresh pot of coffee and congratulations all around. There was a call from Ambassador Abril, who said that the king and the prime minister had been informed and would be addressing Spain at two p.m. local time. Abril could not tell them whether the Royal Palace had been taken from General Amadori’s troops. He said that that information would be provided to the White House when it was available and would have to make its way through channels.
Abril also could not tell them what the future of Spain might be-not only because it would be inappropriate to, but because he truly didn’t know.
“Deputy Serrador and General Amadori both released some very powerful opposing forces,” he said.
“Ethnic and cultural differences have been inflamed.
I hope-yet am not hopeful-that they can be doused.” “We’ll all be praying for the best,” Hood said.
The ambassador thanked him.
After Hood hung up, Herbert muttered a few graphic Southern expressions for the ambassador and his secrecy-though Ron Plummer reminded him that Abril was acting according to protocol.
“I remember how upset Jimmy Carter was when the American hostages were released from Tehran,” he said. ” The Iranians waited until Ronald Reagan had been sworn in to let them go. When former President Carter telephoned the White House to find out if the Americans were free, he was told that that information was classified. He had to find out about it much later.” Herbert was not appeased. He picked up the phone on the armrest of his wheelchair and called his office.
He asked his assistant to phone Interpol and ask the spotters for an update on the situation at the palace. Less than two minutes later he was informed that the shooting had stopped and, in the few areas of the courtyard they could see, the police seemed to be in control. A call to Stephen Viens and a check with NRO satellites confirmed that soldiers were being
disarmed in other parts of the compound and civilians were being led out to a Red Cross facility that was being set up outside the Cathedral of the Almudena.
Herbert grinned triumphantly. “What do you say we inform Abril that “diplomatic channels” include a lot more stations than they used to.” The call from McCaskey finally came at sevenforty-five. Hood put it on the speakerphone. McKaskey said he was whipped and suffering from three broken ribs and a bruised kidney. Otherwise, he said, he was in good spirits.
Maria and Luis were in surgery but both were expected to pull through.
“I’ll be staying here for a while to recover,” McCaskey said. “Hope that isn’t a problem.” “No problem at all,” Hood said. “Stay until you recover everything you feel you need.” McCaskey thanked him.
They did not discuss McCaskey’s role in killing General Amadori. That would not be discussed until someone from Op-Center-probably Mike Rodgers- flew over to debrief him. It was understood among intelligence agents that assassination must be treated with an almost ceremonial reverence.
Debriefing must be done face to face, like confession.
That helped to ensure that killing a leader or spy, while sometimes necessary, would never be taken casually.
“There is one thing I’d like to do as soon as possible,” McCaskey said.
“What’s that?” Hood asked.
“There’s been a lot of religious unrest here,” McCaskey said. “General de la Vega tells me that it appears that General Superior Gonzalez, leader of the Jesuits in Spain, was a strong supporter of General Amadori. The General Superior was overcome with tear gas in Striker’s assault-he’d been meeting with the general in the throne room. There is certain to be a Vatican investigation.” “That’s going to make a lot of Spaniards very unhappy,” Rodgers said. “Especially if the General Superior denies the charges and loyalties are strained between the Jesuits and other Roman Catholics.” “It’s all going to help contribute to the collapse of Spain as we knew it,” McCaskey said, “which everyone here believes is imminent. Someone who spoke directly with the prime minister told General de la Vega that a new constitution is already being worked on-one that will allow the different regions virtual autonomy under a very loose central government.” Herbert folded his powerful arms. “Why don’t we call old Abril up and let him know what’s gonna happen in his own country.” Hood frowned and motioned him silent.