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The corridor ahead was empty. They heard a shot and quickened their pace. Aideen wondered if someone else — possibly Maria? — had found Amadori. The trail of blood continued around the corner. They followed it, stopping short as they entered the hallway leading past the music room. They saw General Amadori standing there with a gun in his white-gloved hand. The gun was being held to someone’s head. It took a moment for Aideen to realize who the general was holding in front of him.

It was Father Norberto. And at his feet was another man lying faceup. He wasn’t moving.

It was Darrell McCaskey.

FORTY-SIX

Tuesday, 12:24 P.M. Madrid, Spain

When Father Norberto had entered the courtyard outside the palace, he didn’t believe the soldiers were going to hurt him. He could see it in their eyes, hear it in their voices.

He had no such illusions about this man, the one who had just shot the American in the back. The officer had a gun pressed under his jaw and was holding his hair tightly with the other hand. The man was bleeding. He did not have the time or disposition to talk.

“Where is the major general?” Amadori shouted.

Aideen dropped the major general’s goggles and gun and kicked them into the hallway. “He’s dead. Now let the priest go.”

“A woman?” Amadori yelled. “Damn you, who is making war on me? Show yourself now!”

“Let the padre go, General Amadori,” Aideen said. “Release him and you can have me.”

“I do not negotiate,” Amadori yelled. He took a quick look behind him. The door to the courtyard was only a few yards away. He pulled off his goggles and threw them to the floor. Then he pressed the gun harder against Father Norberto’s throat and continued backing toward the door. “My soldiers are still outside, watching the perimeter while their brothers fight. When I call them they’ll come. They’ll hunt you down.”

“You’ll shoot me if I show myself.”

“That is correct,” said Amadori. “But I’ll release the priest.”

The woman was silent.

Throughout his years in the priesthood, Norberto had talked to grieving widows and parishioners whose brothers or sisters or children had died. Most of them had expressed the desire to die as well. Despite his own loss, Norberto didn’t feel that way. He did not want to be a martyr. He wanted to live. He wanted to continue helping others. But he wasn’t going to let a woman die for him.

“My child, leave here!” Norberto cried.

Amadori pulled tighter on his hair. “Don’t talk.”

“My brother, Adolfo Alcazar, believed in you,” Norberto said. “He died in your service.”

“Your brother?” the general said. He continued walking. He was just a few feet from the door. “Don’t you realize that the people who killed Adolfo are here?”

“I know,” Norberto said. “One of them died in my arms, just as Adolfo did.”

“Then how can you take their side?”

“I haven’t taken their side,” Norberto said. “I am on the side of God. And in His name I beg you to call off this war.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Amadori snapped. “My enemies are the enemies of Spain. Tell me who the woman is and I’ll release you.”

“I won’t help you,” Norberto said.

“Then you’ll die.” Amadori groaned as he reached the door. He was obviously in pain. Still holding the priest, he stepped into the gleaming sunlight and turned toward the southern gate. “I need assistance!” he yelled. He looked back quickly to make sure Aideen hadn’t moved.

The soldiers on the other side of the courtyard had their guns pointed toward the arches. They turned to look at the door. Suddenly, one of the soldiers stepped from behind the gatepost.

“Stay where you are, sir!” the soldier yelled.

Amadori glanced toward the arches. He saw two people crouched there, a bleeding man and a woman.

“Get your unit back out here,” Amadori shouted. “Secure the courtyard!”

The soldier pulled the field radio from his belt and called for reinforcements. As he did, the woman behind the arch aimed at Amadori. The general angrily swung the priest around so he was facing her. The woman held her fire; gunshots from the soldiers quickly drove her back behind the arch. Amadori looked back into the palace to make sure the other woman hadn’t come from around the corner.

She had not. She didn’t need to.

Darrell McCaskey was lying on his side halfway down the corridor. He was facing Amadori and holding the gun Aideen had kicked into the corridor.

Father Norberto looked in as well. He didn’t understand. There was no blood, yet he’d seen the general shoot this man in the back.

Amadori began to turn the priest around. But McCaskey didn’t give the general a chance to maneuver Father Norberto between them. And he didn’t fire to wound the general. He put two quick shots into Amadori’s temple.

The general was dead before he reached the ground.

FORTY-SEVEN

Tuesday, 12:35 P.M. Madrid, Spain

“You took one of the bulletproof vests,” Aideen said as she ran toward McCaskey.

“Never travel without it,” McCaskey said. He winced as she helped him to his feet. “I put it on before I came here. After he shot me — I figured I’d lie low and wait for something like this.”

“Glad I didn’t just kick out the goggles,” Aideen said.

Ferdinand ran past them to the priest. Father Norberto was standing just inside the doorway, staring down at the body of General Amadori. He knelt and began to say a prayer over the dead man.

“Father, he doesn’t deserve your blessing,” Ferdinand said. “Come. We must go.”

Norberto finished praying. Only when he made the sign of the cross over the general did he rise. He looked at Ferdinand. “Where are we going?”

“Away,” Ferdinand said. “The soldiers—”

“He’s right, Father,” Aideen said. “We don’t know what they’re going to do. But we should be somewhere else when they do it.”

McCaskey held onto Aideen’s shoulder while he drew several painful breaths. “We’ve also got to let the boss know what’s going on as soon as possible,” he said. “Where’s the team?”

“They encountered some resistance after the flush-out,” she said. “They withdrew.”

“Can you get to them?”

Aideen nodded. “Can you walk?”

“Yes, but I’m not going with you,” McCaskey said. “I can’t leave María.”

“Darrell, you heard what Amadori said,” Aideen declared. “More soldiers are on the way.”

“I know,” McCaskey said. He smiled faintly. “All the more reason I can’t leave her.”

“He won’t be alone,” Father Norberto told her. “I’ll stay with him.”

Aideen regarded them both through her mask. “There isn’t time to argue. I’ll get the word out. You three take care.”

McCaskey thanked her. As she turned and ran toward the grand staircase, McCaskey hobbled toward the priest.

“I’m sorry about this,” he said in English, pointing to Amadori’s body. “It was necessary.”

Norberto said nothing.

Ferdinand put his gun in his waistband. “I’m going to look for my friend Juan,” he said. He regarded McCaskey. “Thank you, sir, for ridding Spain of this would-be caudillo.”

McCaskey wasn’t exactly sure what Ferdinand had said, but he got the gist of it. “¡De nada!” he said. “You’re welcome.”