Balance of Power

“But maybe not as it was,” Maria said. “I know a little about Amadori — but not enough. He’s a Castilian nationalist and, from all I can determine, a megalomaniac. He appears to have used these incidents to put himself in a position to have martial law declared throughout Spain — and then to run that martial law. I’m concerned that he won’t step down after that. I need to know if you have or can get any intelligence that will help me stop him.”

Juan smirked. “You’re suggesting that Interpol and the Ramirez familia work together?”

“I am.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Juan said. “What will stop you from gathering intelligence on us?”

“Nothing,” Maria admitted.

Juan’s smirk wavered. “Then you admit you might.”

“Yes, I admit that,” Maria said. “But if we don’t stop General Amadori, then whatever intelligence I happen to gather on the familia will be useless. The general will hunt you people down and destroy you. If not for killing his operative, then for the threat you represent. The possibility that you could rally other familias against him.”

Juan looked at Ferdinand. The granite-solid watchman thought for a moment and then nodded once. Juan regarded Maria. So did Aideen. Maria had played Juan honestly — and beautifully.

“Adversity has made stranger trenchmates,” Juan said. “All right. We’ve been looking into Amadori since we returned to the factory.” He snickered. “We still have some allies in government and the military, though not many. The death of Senor Ramirez has scared people.”

“As it was meant to,” Maria remarked.

“Amadori is based in Madrid, at the office of the Defense Ministry,” Juan said. “But we hear he has established a headquarters elsewhere. We’re trying to find out where. He has powerful Castilian allies in the Congreso de los Diputados and in the Senado. They’re backing him with deeds and with silence.”

“What do you mean?”

“The prime minister has the right to declare martial law,” Juan said, “but the parliament can effectively block him by cutting off funds if they don’t approve of the measure or the leader.”

“And they haven’t done that here,” Maria suggested.

“No,” Juan said. “I’ve been told by an informer from the Ruiz familia—”

“The computer makers?” Maria asked.

“Yes,” Juan said. “I’ve been told that the funding was actually above what the prime minister had requested. By fivefold.”

Maria whistled.

“But why wouldn’t they back him?” Aideen asked. “Spain is facing great danger.”

Juan looked from Maria to Aideen. “Usually, the money is approved in parcels. That’s done as a means of preventing exactly this kind of coup. Powerful people are behind this. Perhaps they or their families have been threatened. Perhaps they’ve been promised positions of greater authority in the new regime.”

“Regardless,” Maria said, “they’ve given Amadori the power and the money to do whatever he deems necessary.” She drew slowly on her cigarette. “Simple and brilliant. With the army under his control and the government crippled by acts of treason, General Amadori can’t be stopped by any legal means.”

“Exactly,” Juan said. “Which is why the familia has had to work on this in our own way.”

Maria looked at Juan then ground her cigarette on the floor. “What would happen if he were removed?”

“Do you mean dismissed?” Juan asked.

“If I’d meant dismissed I would have said dismissed,” the woman replied sharply.

Juan turned and put his cigarette out against the metal wall. He shrugged. “We would all benefit. But it would have to be done quickly. If Amadori has time to establish himself as the savior of Spain, then whatever momentum he creates will continue with or without him.”

“Granted,” Maria said. “And he will move quickly to present himself as a hero.”

Juan nodded. “The problem is, it won’t be easy getting close to him. If he stays in one place, there will be security. If he moves around, his itinerary will be classified. We’d have to be very lucky just to—”

Aideen held up her hand. “Quiet!”

The others looked at her. A moment later Maria obviously heard it too. By then they could feel it in their gut — the low beat of distant rotors.

“Helicopters!” Juan said. He jumped to the back of the van and opened the door.

Aideen looked past him. Coming in over the nearby hills were the navigation lights of four helicopters. They were about a mile away.

“They’re coming toward the factory,” Juan said. He turned toward Maria. “Yours?”

She shook her head. She pushed past him and jumped onto the asphalt. She stood watching the choppers for a moment. “Get your people out of here or into safe areas,” she said. “Arm them.”

Aideen slid out around the men. “Hold on,” she said. “Are you telling him to shoot at Spanish soldiers?”

“I don’t know!” she snapped. She started running toward the car. “These are probably Amadori’s men. If any of the familia members are captured or killed, it accomplishes what we’re afraid of. By shutting down pockets of dissent, he’s strengthened in the eyes of the people.”

Aideen jogged after her. She was trying to imagine some other scenario. But there were no riots in San Sebastian and the police were handling the inquiry into the explosion in the bay. There were only small homes and fields between this spot and the mountains: the Ramirez factory was the only target large enough to merit four helicopters.

This is a civilized nation preparing to make war on itself, she told herself. Though it was difficult to accept that fact, it was becoming more and more real by the moment.

Juan stepped from the van. He was followed by Ferdinand.

“Where are you going?” Juan shouted after the women.

“To call my superior!” Maria shouted back. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”

“Tell your people that we will not fight back unless we’re attacked!” Juan yelled as he and Ferdinand started running toward the factory. The helicopters were less than a quarter mile away. “Tell them that we have no quarrel with the honest soldiers or people of—”

His words were drowned out by the rattling drone of the rotors as the choppers bore down on the factory. An instant later the crisp chatter of the airborne Modelo L-1-003 guns was added to the din and both Juan and Ferdinand fell to the ground.

TWENTY-TWO

Tuesday, 5:43 A.M. Madrid, Spain

Darrell McCaskey couldn’t sleep.

After bringing Aideen to the airfield, he’d returned with Luis to Interpol’s Madrid office. The small complex occupied a single floor of the district police station. The turn-of-the-century brick building was located just off the broad Gran Via on Calle de Hortaleza. The ride back to the city had been a quiet one as McCaskey reflected on his months with Maria.

Suddenly exhausted when they returned, McCaskey had lain down on a soft sofa in the small dining room. But while he’d gladly shut his heavy eyelids, his heavy heart had refused to shut down. Maria’s anger had disturbed him, though it was not unexpected. Worse than that, though, was simply seeing the woman again. It reminded McCaskey of the biggest mistake of his life: letting her go two years before.

The sad thing was, he’d known it then.

Lying there, McCaskey remembered vividly all the differences that had come up during her stay in America. She had a live-for-today attitude, not worrying very much about health or money or the danger of some of the assignments she took. They had different tastes in music and in the sports they liked to watch or play. She liked to bike everywhere, he liked to walk or drive. He loved cities and high energy places, she loved the country.