'¡Señor Gerrard! ¡Buenas tardes! ¡Mucho gusto! Cómo está usted?'

'Muy bien. Gracias,' Gerrard said. 'Y usted?

'¡Excelente!'

The two men embraced, slapping each other's back.

When they separated, the stranger abruptly changed to English, his voice deep and resonant, a politician's voice. 'You've stayed away much too long. You know you're always welcome here.'

'I'll try to visit more often,' Gerrard said.

'I look forward to it.' The stranger ignored the two Secret Service agents and faced Hugh Kelly. Smiling warmly, he shook his hand. 'It's a pleasure to see you again, Señor Kelly.'

'The pleasure is mine.'

'Bueno. Bueno. And Alan, these are your friends?'

'Forgive me for being rude,' Gerrard said. Tess, Lieutenant Craig, this is José Fulano. He has a title and a formal version of name that's extremely long, but when we're not at the conference table, we like to keep things unofficial. I phoned José while we flew to Madrid and told him you'd be coming here with me.'

Fulano shook their hands with delight. 'To borrow your American expression, any friends of Alan are friends of mine. You're very welcome. My home is at your disposal. Mi casa, su casa. Whatever you need, please don't hesitate to ask.'

Sure, Tess thought. What do I need? Like, how the hell do I get out of here? But she pretended not to be terrified and gave him her most pleasant smile. 'We appreciate your hospitality, Señor Fulano.'

'Please, I'm José.'

'Your home is magnificent,' Craig said. 'I've never seen a more beautiful setting.'

Fulano turned and joined them in their admiration of his property. 'I spend too much time in Madrid. If I were sane, I'd never leave here.' He sighed. 'But as Alan understands too well, the pressures of responsibility don't give us much time to enjoy the truly important things, the beauties of life.' Fulano glanced at Tess. 'When Alan phoned me from Air Force Two, he explained that you're an environmentalist. You'll be pleased to learn that there isn't any pollution here.'

'I realized that when we got off the helicopter. I feel like I'm breathing pure oxygen.'

Fulano smiled. 'You must be exhausted from your journey. You'll want to rest, to bathe. I'll show you to your rooms. I'm sure you'd also appreciate a change of clothes.'

Thank you,' Tess said.

'De nada.' Fulano guided them proudly past an outbuilding toward the castle.

A cobblestone road, bordered by grass, led toward it. Close, the building looked less tall than from the air, perhaps six stories, but its width and depth remained considerable. The rocks that made up its walls were huge. Most of the shutters were open, revealing tall spacious windows. On the upper floors, each window had a balcony with pots of colorful blooming flowers and a wrought-iron railing, the bars of which were bent into ornate shapes. Two thick stone slabs formed steps toward a huge, arched, double door made of rich, dark wood.

Fulano pushed one heavy side open and gestured for Tess and Craig to enter ahead of him. More fearful, Tess complied, but not before she noticed armed sentries at each corner of the building.

Although they pretended to study the road and the fields, what they really cared about, with surreptitious glances, were she and Craig.

The moment Tess crossed the threshhold, her first impression was of sweat cooling on her brow. Evidently the temperature outside had been warmer than she'd realized. The stone of both the walls and the floor made the interior at least ten degrees lower.

Her second impression was of shadows. After the bright sun, she needed several moments for her eyes to adjust. A long, sturdy, antique, wooden table occupied the middle of the entry room. Complex tapestries depicting woodlands and mountains hung on two walls. Another tapestry portrayed a bullfight, the matador thrusting his sword. An ancient suit of armor stood in the far left corner.

The ceiling amazed her: dark, polished, foot-square beams joined perfectly, anchored into the stone walls, supported by pillars and occasional transverse beams. She'd never been in a building that felt more solid.

'This way,' Fulano said graciously. He led them across the room, up three more slabs of cool stone, turned left in a muffled corridor, and walked with them up a staircase that was made from the same thick beams that formed the ceiling. The echo of their footsteps was absorbed by the substantial wood and stone below and around them.

The second level was equally amazing, a high, large, open area with a floor and ceiling of massive beams and another long, sturdy, antique table. More tapestries. Wooden throne-like chairs along the walls. Between each chair, a door.

'This is your room,' Fulano told Tess, 'and this is yours,' he said to Craig.

The doors were widely separated.

'Fine,' Craig said. 'But not to be indelicate, Tess and I are…'

'Yes?' Fulano asked, puzzled.

'Together.'

'You're telling me that you've…?' Fulano raised his eyebrows.

'Reached an arrangement.'

'Yes,' Fulano said. 'By all means. Forgive my manners. This room,' he told Craig and Tess, 'is yours. You've had a long journey. You'll no doubt want to rest. But at eight o'clock, please join us in the dining room. It's down the staircase, then left along the corridor. We have a surprise for you.'

'I'm eager to see it. We'll clean up and join you at eight,' Craig said.

'Bueno.'

NINE

Tess and Craig entered the room, which was lofty and wide, with antique Spanish cabinets, open doors at the window, and an oversized bed. Its tall headboard matched the rich, dark beams of the floor and ceiling.

Craig locked the door.

Tess gripped his arms. 'Thank God, you-!'

Craig forcefully put a finger on her lips. 'I bet the view from this room is magnificent. Those flowers. Did you notice them on the balcony? Why don't we take a look?'

It wasn't as if she had a choice. Craig's hand pressed against her back and urged her toward the balcony.

Past the open doors, leaning against the wrought-iron railing, they had a view of the cobblestone road and the outbuildings, beyond which there were fields – bulls in some, horses in others – then the forest, then the towering mountains. A scented breeze widened Tess's nostrils, but that pleasure was irrelevant.

'I'm sure the room is bugged,' Craig murmured. 'But I don't think the microphones can hear us on the balcony. Did you notice the sentries?'

'Yes.'

The white bull?'

'Especially.'

'We're screwed,' Craig said. 'Father Baldwin's plan is a disaster.'

'Maybe not. He could still-'

'You're dreaming,' Craig said. 'We're on our own. I don't understand why Gerrard and Fulano haven't killed us yet, but from now on, we forget about Father Baldwin and depend on ourselves.'

'Gerrard and Fulano must have a reason for letting us live.'

'So far.'

With a tremble, Tess agreed. 'So far. Something else is going on. Maybe the surprise Fulano mentioned.'

'Whatever it is, it's not in our favor.'

'So what do we do?' Tess asked. Try to run?'

'With those sentries? God damn that Father Baldwin,' Craig said. 'He didn't want to help us. He used us. We'd have been safer if we'd never listened to him.'

'That was yesterday. We have to deal with now.'

'All right,' Craig said. 'For the moment, we have to go with the flow. When it's dark, maybe we'll find a chance to escape. Through the woods. Into the mountains. At night, when everyone's asleep, I think we can climb down from this balcony. If anyone tries to stop us I'll do my best to distract them. In that case, you go on without me.'

'No way,' Tess said. 'It's both of us or none.'