Authors: Sidney Sheldon
Tags: #Espionage, #Fiction, #Nuns, #Spain, #General
T
he report of the bank robbery was handled through regular police channels, and it was not until two hours after the robbery occurred that a police lieutenant notified Colonel Acoca about it.
An hour later, Acoca was in Valladolid. He was furious at the delay.
“Why wasn’t I informed immediately?”
“I’m sorry, Colonel, but it never occurred to us that—”
“You had him in your hands and you let him get away!”
“It wasn’t our—”
“Send in the bank teller.”
The teller was filled with a sense of self-importance. “It was my window he came to. I could tell he was a killer by the look in his eye. He—”
“There is no doubt in your mind that the man who held you up was Jaime Miró?”
“None. He even showed me a wanted poster of himself. It was—”
“Did he come into the bank alone?”
“Yes. He pointed to a woman in the line and he said she was a member of his gang, but after Miró left I recognized her. She’s a secretary who’s a regular customer and—”
Colonel Acoca said impatiently, “When Miró left, did you see in which direction he went?”
“Out the front door.”
The interview with the traffic policeman was no more helpful.
“There were four of them in the car, Colonel. Jaime Miró and another man and two women in the back.”
“In what direction were they headed?”
The policeman hesitated. “They could have gone in any direction, sir, once they got off the one-way street.” His face brightened. “I can describe the car, though.”
Colonel Acoca shook his head in disgust. “Don’t bother.”
She was dreaming, and in her dream there were the voices of a mob, and they were coming for her to burn her at the stake for robbing a bank.
It wasn’t for me. It was for the cause.
The voices grew louder.
Megan opened her eyes and sat up, staring at the unfamiliar castle walls. The sound of voices was real. It was coming from outside.
Megan rose and hurried over to the narrow window. Directly below, in front of the castle, was an encampment of soldiers. She was filled with a sudden panic.
They’ve caught us. I have to find Jaime.
She hurried to the room where he and Amparo had slept and looked inside. It was empty. She ran down the steps to the reception hall on the main floor. Jaime and Amparo were standing near the bolted front door, whispering.
Felix ran up to them. “I checked the back. There’s no other way out of here.”
“What about the back windows?”
“Too small. The only way out is through the front door.”
Where the soldiers are,
Megan thought.
We’re trapped.
Jaime was saying, “It’s just our damned bad luck that they picked this place to camp.”
“What are we going to do?” Amparo whispered.
“There’s nothing we can do. We’ll have to stay here until they leave. If—”
And at that moment there was a loud knock at the front door. An authoritative voice called out, “Open up in there.”
Jaime and Felix exchanged a quick look, and without a word drew their guns.
The voice called out again, “We know there’s someone in there. Open up.”
Jaime said to Amparo and Megan, “Get out of the way.”
It’s hopeless,
Megan thought as Amparo moved behind Jaime and Felix.
There must be two dozen armed soldiers out there. We haven’t got a chance.
Before the others could stop her, Megan moved swiftly to the front door and opened it.
“Thank the Lord you’ve come!” Megan exclaimed. “You must help me.”
T
he army officer stared at Megan. “Who are you? What are you doing in there? I’m Captain Rodriguez, and we’re looking for—”
“You’re just in time, Captain.” She grabbed his arm. “My two little sons have typhoid fever, and I have to get them to a doctor. You must come in and help me with them.”
“Typhoid fever?”
“Yes.” Megan was pulling on his arm. “It is terrible. They are burning up. They are covered with sores and are very sick. Bring your men in and help me carry them out to—”
“
Señora!
You must be mad. That is highly contagious.”
“Never mind that. They need your help. They may be dying.” She was pulling on his arm.
“Let go of me.”
“You can’t leave me. What will I do?”
“Get back inside and stay there until we can notify the police to send an ambulance or a doctor.”
“But—”
“That’s an order,
señora.
Get inside.”
He called out, “Sergeant, we’re moving out of here.”
Megan closed the front door and leaned against it, drained.
Jaime was staring at her in stunned amazement. “My God, that was brilliant. Where did you learn to he like that?”
Megan turned to him and sighed. “When I was in the orphanage, we had to learn to defend ourselves. I hope God will forgive me.”
“I wish I could have seen the look on that captain’s face.” Jaime burst into laughter. “Typhoid fever! Jesus Christ!” He saw the look on Megan’s face. “I beg your pardon, Sister.”
From outside they could hear the sounds of the soldiers packing their tents and moving out.
When the troops had departed, Jaime said, “The police will be here soon. Anyway, we have an appointment in Logroño.”
Fifteen minutes after the soldiers had departed, Jaime said, “It should be safe to leave now.” He turned to Felix. “See what you can pick up in town. Preferably a sedan.”
Felix grinned. “No problem.”
Half an hour later they were in a beat-up gray sedan heading east.
To Megan’s surprise, she was seated next to Jaime. Felix and Amparo were in the backseat. Jaime glanced at Megan, a grin on his face.
“Typhoid fever,” he said, and burst out laughing.
Megan smiled. “He
did
seem eager to get away, didn’t he?”
“Did you say you were in an orphanage, Sister?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In Ávila.”
“You don’t look Spanish.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“It must have been hell for you in the orphanage.”
She was startled by the unexpected concern. “It could have been,” she said. “But it wasn’t.”
I wouldn’t let it be,
she thought.
“Do you have any idea who your parents were?”
Megan recalled her fantasies. “Oh, yes. My father was a brave Englishman who drove an ambulance for the Loyalists in the Spanish Civil War. My mother was killed in the fighting and I was left on the doorstep of a farmhouse.” Megan shrugged. “Or my father was a foreign prince who had an affair with a peasant girl and abandoned me to avoid a scandal.”
Jaime glanced at her, saying nothing.
“I—” she stopped abruptly. “I don’t know who my parents were.”
They drove on in silence for a while.
“How long were you behind the walls of the convent?”
“About fifteen years.”
Jaime was astonished. “Jesus!” Hastily he added, “I beg your pardon, Sister. But it’s like talking to someone from another planet. You have no idea what’s happened in the world in the past fifteen years.”
“I’m sure that whatever changed is only temporary. It will change again.”
“Do you still want to go back to a convent?”
The question took Megan by surprise.
“Of course.”
“Why?”
Jaime made a sweeping gesture. “I mean—there is so much that you must miss behind the walls. Here we have music and poetry. Spain gave the world Cervantes and Picasso, Lorca, Pizarro, de Soto, Cortes. This is a magical country.”
There was a surprising mellowness about this man, a soft fire.
Unexpectedly, Jaime said, “I’m sorry for wanting to desert you earlier, Sister. It was nothing personal. I have had bad experiences with your Church.”
“That is difficult to believe.”
“Believe it.” His voice was bitter.
In his mind’s eye he could see the buildings and statues and streets of Guernica exploding in showers of death. He could still hear the screams of the bombs mingling with the screams of the helpless victims being torn apart. The only place of sanctuary was the church.
The priests have locked the church. They won’t let us in.
And the deadly hail of bullets that had murdered his mother and father and sisters.
No. Not the bullets,
Jaime thought.
The Church.
“Your Church stood behind Franco and allowed unspeakable things to be done to innocent civilians.”
“I’m sure the Church protested,” Megan said.
“No. It wasn’t until nuns were being raped by his Falangists and priests were being murdered and churches were being burned that finally the pope broke with Franco. But that didn’t bring my mother or father or sisters back to life.”
The passion in his voice was frightening.
“I’m sorry. But that was long ago. The war is over.”
“No. Not for us it isn’t. The government will still not permit us to fly the Basque flag or celebrate our national holidays or speak our own language. No, Sister. We’re still being oppressed. We’ll keep on fighting until we gain our independence. There are half a million Basques in Spain and a hundred fifty thousand more in France. We want our independence—but your God is too busy to help us.”
Megan said earnestly, “God cannot take sides, for He is in all of us. We are all a part of Him, and when we try to destroy Him, we destroy ourselves.”
To Megan’s surprise, Jaime smiled. “We are a lot alike, you and I, Sister.”
“We are?”
“We may believe in different things, but we believe with a passion. Most people go through life without caring deeply about anything. You devote your life to God; I devote my life to my cause. We care.”
And Megan thought:
Do I care enough? And if I do, why am I enjoying being with this man? I should be thinking only of returning to a convent
There was a power in Jaime Miró that was like a magnet.
Is he like Manolete? Risking his life taking daring chances because he has nothing to lose?
“What will they do to you if the soldiers catch you?” Megan asked.
“Execute me.” He said it so matter-of-factly that for a moment Megan thought she had misunderstood.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
“Of course I’m afraid. We’re all afraid. None of us wants to die, Sister. We’ll meet your God soon enough. We don’t want to rush it.”
“Have you done such terrible things?”
“That depends on your point of view. The difference between a patriot and a rebel depends on who is in power at the moment. The government calls us terrorists. We call ourselves freedom fighters. Jean Jacques Rousseau said that freedom is the power to choose our own chains. I want that freedom.” He studied her a moment. “But you don’t have to concern yourself with any of these things, do you? Once you’re back in the convent, you’ll no longer be interested in the world outside.”
Was that true?
Being out in the world again had turned her life upside down. Had she given up her freedom? There was so much she wanted to know, so much she had to learn. She felt like an artist with a blank canvas about to start sketching a new life.
If I go back to a
convent,
she thought,
I will be shut away from life again.
And even as she thought it, Megan was appalled by the word
if. When I go back,
she corrected herself hastily.
Of course I’m going back. I have nowhere else to go.
They camped that night in the woods.
Jaime said, “We’re about thirty miles from Logroño and we aren’t supposed to meet the others for two days. It will be safer for us to stay on the move until then. So tomorrow we will head toward Vitoria. The next day we’ll go into Logroño and just a few hours after that, Sister, you’ll be at the convent in Mendavia.”
Forever.
“Will you be all right?” Megan asked.
“Are you worried about my soul, Sister, or my body?”
Megan found herself blushing.
“Nothing will happen to me. I’ll cross the border into France for a while.”
“I will pray for you,” Megan told him.
“Thank you,” he said gravely. “I will think of you praying for me and it will make me feel safer. Get some sleep now.”
As Megan turned to he down, she saw Amparo staring at her from the far end of the clearing. There was a look of naked hatred on her face.
No one takes my man from me. No one.
E
arly the following morning, they reached the outskirts of Nanclares, a small village west of Vitoria. They came to a filling station with a garage, where a mechanic was working on a car. Jaime pulled into the garage.
“Buenas días,”
the mechanic said. “What is the problem?”
“If I knew,” Jaime replied, “I would fix it myself and charge for it. This car is as useless as a mule. It sputters like an old woman and has no energy.”
“It sounds like my wife,” the mechanic grinned. “I think you may have a carburetor problem,
señor.”
Jaime shrugged. “I know nothing about cars. All I know is that I have a very important appointment in Madrid tomorrow. Can you have it fixed by this afternoon?”
The mechanic said, “I have two jobs ahead of you,
señor,
but—” He let the rest of the sentence hang in the air.
“I will be glad to pay you double.”
The mechanic’s face brightened. “Will two o’clock be all right?”
“Wonderful. We’ll get something to eat and come back at two.”
Jaime turned to the others, who had been listening to the conversation in amazement. “We’re in luck,” Jaime said. “This man is going to fix the car for us. Let’s go eat.”
They got out of the car and followed Jaime down the street.
“Two o’clock,” the mechanic said.
“Two o’clock.”
When they were out of earshot, Felix said, “What are you doing? There’s nothing wrong with the car.”
Except that by now the police will be looking for it,
Megan thought.
But they’ll be looking on the road, not in a garage. It’s a clever way to get rid of it
“By two o’clock we’ll be gone, won’t we?” Megan asked.
Jaime looked at her and grinned. “I have to make a phone call. Wait here.”
Amparo took Jaime’s arm. “I’ll go with you.”
Megan and Felix watched them walk off.
Felix looked at Megan and said, “You and Jaime are getting along well, yes?”
“Yes.” She suddenly felt shy.
“He is not an easy man to know. But he is a man of great honor and great bravery. He is a very caring man. There is no one like him. Did I tell you how he saved my life, Sister?”
“No. I would like to hear.”
“A few months ago the government executed six freedom fighters. In revenge, Jaime decided to blow up the dam at Puente la Reina, south of Pamplona. The town below was headquarters for the army. We moved in at night, but someone tipped off the GOE, and Acoca’s men caught three of us. We were sentenced to die. It would have taken an army to storm our prison, but Jaime figured out a way. He set the bulls loose in Pamplona, and in the confusion got two of us away. The third one was beaten to death by Acoca’s men. Yes, Sister, Jaime Miró is very special.”
When Jaime and Amparo returned, Felix asked, “What is happening?”
“Friends are picking us up. We’ll have a ride into Vitoria.”
Half an hour later, a truck appeared. The back of it was covered by canvas.
“Welcome,” the driver said cheerfully. “Hop in.”
“Thank you,
amigo.
”
“It’s a pleasure to be of assistance to you,
señor.
It’s good that you called. The damned soldiers are swarming around like fleas. It is not safe for you and your friends to be out in the open.”
They climbed into the back of the truck, and the huge vehicle headed northeast.
“Where will you be staying?” the driver asked.
“With friends,” Jaime said.
And Megan thought:
He doesn’t trust anyone. Not even someone who is helping him. But how can he? His life is in danger.
And she thought of how terrible it must be for Jaime to be living under that shadow, running from the police and the army. And all because he believed in an ideal so much that he was willing to die for it. What was it he had said?
The difference between a patriot and a rebel depends on who is in power at the moment
The ride was a pleasant one. The thin canvas cover offered security, and Megan realized how much fear she had felt when they were out in the open fields, knowing that they were all being hunted.
And Jaime lives with that tension constantly. How strong he is.
She and Jaime talked, and the conversation flowed easily, as though they had known each other forever. Amparo Jirón sat listening to them, saying nothing, her face impassive.
“When I was a boy,” Jaime told Megan, “I wanted to be an astronomer.”
Megan was curious. “What made you—?”
“I had seen my mother and father and sisters shot down, and friends murdered, and I couldn’t face what was happening here on this bloody earth. The stars were an escape. They were millions of light years away, and I used to dream of going to them one day and getting away from this awful planet.”
She was watching him, silent.
“But there is no escape, is there? In the end, we all have to face up to our responsibilities. So I came back down to earth. I used to believe that one person could not make a difference. But I know now that that is not true. Jesus made a difference, and Mohammed and Gandhi and Einstein and Churchill.” He smiled wryly. “Don’t misunderstand, Sister. I’m not comparing myself to any of them. But in my small way, I do what I can. I think we must all do what we can.”
And Megan wondered whether his words were meant to have a special meaning for her.
“When I got the stars out of my eyes, I studied to be an engineer. I learned to build buildings. Now I blow them up. And the irony is that some of the buildings I’ve blown up are ones that I’ve built.”
They reached Vitoria at dusk.
“Where shall I take you?” the truck driver asked.
“You can drop us off here, at the corner,
amigo.”
The truck driver nodded. “Right. Keep up the good fight.”
Jaime helped Megan down from the truck. Amparo watched, her eyes blazing. She allowed her man to touch no other woman.
She’s a whore,
Amparo thought.
And Jaime is homy for that bitch of a nun. Well, that won’t last. He will soon find that her milk is thin. He needs a real woman.
The group took to the side streets, keeping a wary eye out for trouble. Twenty minutes later, they arrived at a one-story stone house nestled in a narrow street and surrounded by a high fence.
“This is it,” Jaime said. “We will stay here tonight and leave tomorrow when it is dark.”
They entered through the front gate and went to the door. It took Jaime but a moment to slip the lock, and they all went inside.
“Whose house is this?” Megan asked.
“You ask too many questions,” Amparo said. “Just be grateful we’ve kept you alive.”
Jaime looked at Amparo a moment. “She’s proved her right to ask questions.” He turned to Megan. “It’s the house of a friend. You’re in Basque country now. From here on our journey will be easier. There will be comrades everywhere, watching and protecting us. You’ll be at the convent the day after tomorrow.”
And Megan felt a small chill that was almost a sorrow.
What is the matter with me?
she wondered.
Of course I want to go back. Forgive me, Lord. I asked that You bring me home to Your safety, and You are.
“I’m starved,” Felix said. “Let’s check out the kitchen.”
It was completely stocked.
Jaime said, “He left plenty of food for us. I will make us a wonderful dinner.” He smiled at Megan. “I think we deserve it, don’t you?”
Megan said, “I didn’t know men cooked.”
Felix laughed. “Basque men take pride in their cooking. You are in for a treat. You will see.”
Handing Jaime the ingredients he asked for, they watched as he prepared a
piperade
of fresh roasted green peppers, sliced white onions, tomatoes, eggs, and ham sautéed together.
As it started to cook, Megan said, “It smells delicious.”
“Ah, that’s just the appetizer. I’m going to make a famous Basque dish for you—
pollo al chilindrón.
”
He didn’t say “for us,”
Amparo noted.
He said, “for you.” For the bitch.
Jaime cut chicken into strips, sprinkled salt and pepper over them, and browned them in hot oil while in a separate pan he started to cook onions, garlic, and tomatoes. “We’ll let it simmer for half an hour.”
Felix had found a bottle of red wine. He passed out glasses. “The red wine of La Rioja. You will like this.” He offered a glass to Megan. “Sister?”
The last time Megan had tasted wine had been at communion. “Thank you,” she said.
Slowly she raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. It was delicious. She took another sip and she could feel a warmth moving down her body. It felt wonderful.
I must enjoy all this while I can,
Megan thought.
It will be over soon.
During dinner, Jaime seemed unusually preoccupied.
“What’s troubling you,
amigo
?” Felix asked.
Jaime hesitated. “We have a traitor in the movement.”
There was a shocked silence.
“What—what makes you think that?” Felix demanded.
“Acoca. He keeps getting too close to us.”
Felix shrugged. “He’s the fox and we’re the rabbits.”
“It’s something more than that.”
“What do you mean?” Amparo asked.
“When we were going to blow up the dam at Puente la Reina, Acoca was tipped off.” He looked at Felix. “He set a trap and caught you and Ricardo and Zamora. If I hadn’t been delayed, I would have been captured with you. And look what happened at the
parador.”
“You heard the clerk telephoning the police,” Amparo pointed out.
Jaime nodded. “Right. Because I had a feeling that something was wrong.”
Amparo’s face was somber. “Who do you think it is?”
Jaime shook his head. “I’m not sure. Someone who knows all our plans.”
“Then let’s change our plans,” Amparo said. “We’ll meet the others at Logroño and skip Mendavia.”
Jaime glanced at Megan. “We can’t do that. We have to get the sisters to their convent.”
Megan looked at him and thought:
He’s already done enough for me. I mustn’t put him in greater danger than he’s already in.
“Jaime, I can—”
But he knew what she was going to say. “Don’t worry, Megan. We’re all going to get there safely.”
He’s changed,
Amparo thought.
In the beginning he wanted nothing to do with any of them. Now he’s willing to risk his life for her. And he calls her Megan. It’s no longer Sister.
Jaime was going on. “There are at least fifteen people who know our plans.”
“We have to find out which one it is,” Amparo insisted.
“How do we do that?” Felix asked. He was nervously picking at the edges of the tablecloth.
Jaime said, “Paco is in Madrid doing some checking for me. I’ve arranged for him to telephone me here.” He looked at Felix for a moment, then looked away.
What he had not said was that no more than half a dozen people knew the exact route that the three groups were taking. It was true that Felix Carpio had been imprisoned by Acoca. It was also true that that would have provided a perfect alibi for Felix. At the propitious moment, an escape could have been planned for him.
Except that I got him out first,
Jaime thought.
Paco is checking on him. I hope he calls soon.
Amparo rose and turned to Megan. “Help me with the dishes.”
The two women began to clear the table and the men went into the living room.
“The nun—she’s holding up well,” Felix said.
“Yes.”
“You like her, don’t you?”
Jaime found it difficult to look at Felix. “Yes. I like her.”
And you would betray her along with the rest of us.
“What about you and Amparo?”
“We’re cut from the same cloth. She believes in the cause as much as I do. Her entire family was killed by Franco’s Falangists.” Jaime rose and stretched. “Time to turn in.”
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep tonight. Are you certain there’s a spy?”
Jaime looked at him and said, “I’m certain.”
When Jaime came downstairs for breakfast in the morning, Megan did not recognize him. His face had been darkened, he was wearing a wig and a moustache, and he was dressed in scruffy clothes. He looked ten years older.
“Good morning,” he said. His voice coming out of that body startled her.
“Where did you—?”
“This is a house I use from time to time. I keep an assortment of things here that I need.”
He said it casually, but it gave Megan a sudden insight into the kind of life he led. How many other houses and disguises did he need to stay alive? How many other close calls had he had that she knew nothing about? She remembered the ruthlessness of the men who had attacked the convent and thought:
If they catch Jaime, they’ll show him no mercy. I wish I knew how to protect him.
Megan’s mind was filled with thoughts she had no right to be thinking.
Amparo prepared breakfast:
bacalao
—steamed, salted codfish—goat’s milk, cheese, and thick, hot chocolate with
churros.
As they were eating, Felix asked, “How long are we going to stay here?”
Jaime replied casually, “We’ll leave when it gets dark.”
But he had no intention of letting Felix use that information.
“I have some errands to do,” he told Felix. “I’ll need your help.”
“Right.”
Jaime called Amparo aside. “When Paco calls, tell him I’ll be back shortly. Take a message.”
She nodded. “Be careful.”
“Don’t worry.” He turned to Megan. “Your last day. Tomorrow you’ll be at the convent. You must be eager to get there.”
She looked at him a long moment. “Yes.”
Not eager,
Megan thought.
Anxious. I wish I weren’t anxious. I’m going to shut myself away from this, but for the rest of my life I’m going to wonder what happened to Jaime and Felix and the others.