"One thing I fail to understand," he said. "Don Carlos was a fanatic, devoted to this revolution. Why would he fire a single flare, knowing that it would signal the death of the revolution?"
I thought about that. The man was falling and knew that he would have no chance to fire two more flares, even if he had them on his person. Why, then, did he fire? Ah, it was simple.
"It was a case of the drowning man grasping at straws," I told Intenday. "Don Carlos was falling to his death. He would have grasped at anything to save himself. The gun was in his hands and, in panic, he clutched it and pulled the trigger. And I'm afraid that's about all the explanation we'll ever get because Don Carlos is no longer among us."
"Thank God," Intenday said, crossing himself.
I picked Elicia up from the bullet-riddled couch and walked out of the guard station into the square. The guards were sitting in a bunch in the center and the monks and Niko were still standing above them with guns. I walked past them and went up the steps and into the palace. A frightened servant approached, wringing his hands.
"Show me to the master bedroom," I said. "Give me ten minutes to get this lady on her feet, then bring us something good to eat and drink. After that, we're not to be disturbed. Is that understood?"
He nodded and dashed up the main staircase like a dog leading his master to the hunting grounds.
I knew I should be spending this time in another way. I should go directly to the radio room on Alto Arete and get a message out to AXE and the American President that the mission was completed, successfully. I should get a message to the Nicarxan president that his enemies had lost, that he could easily round up dissident guerillas at will. I should…
To hell with all that. The Presidents could wait.
One more night wouldn't make any difference to anybody in the whole wide world.
Except to me.
And to Elicia.