Rubio Arzano stared at her. "Here?"

No, you idiot, in Rome. "Yes."

"Be careful. The river is swollen because of the rain."

"Don't worry." She stood there, patiently waiting.

"Oh. I will go away while you undress."

"Stay nearby," Lucia said quickly. There were probably wild animals in the woods.

As Lucia started to undress, Rubio hastily walked a few yards away and turned his back.

"Don't go in too far, Sister," he called. "The river is treacherous."

Lucia put down the wrapped cross where she could keep an eye on it. The cool morning air felt wonderful on her naked body. When she had stripped completely, she stepped into the water. It was cold and invigorating. She turned and saw that

Rubio was steadfastly looking in the other direction, his back turned to her. She smiled to herself. All the other men she had known would be feasting their eyes.

She stepped in deeper, avoiding the rocks that were all around, and splashed the water over herself, feeling the rushing river tugging hard at her legs.

A few feet away a small tree was being swept downstream.

As Lucia turned to watch it, she suddenly lost her balance and slipped, screaming. She fell hard, slamming her head against a boulder.

Rubio turned and watched in horror as Lucia disappeared downstream in the raging waters.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

When Sergeant Florian Santiago replaced the receiver in the police station in Salamanca, his hands were trembling.

I have Jaime Miró and three of his people here. How would you like the honor of capturing them?

The government had posted a large reward for the head of

Jaime Miró, and now the Basque outlaw was in his hands. The reward money would change his whole life. He could afford to send his children to a better school, he could buy a washing machine for his wife and jewelry for his mistress. Of course,

he would have to share some of the reward money with his uncle. I'll give him twenty percent, Santiago thought. Or maybe ten percent.

He was well aware of Jaime Miró's reputation, and he had no intention of risking his life trying to capture the terrorist. Let others face the danger and give me the reward.

He sat at his desk deciding the best way to handle the situation. Colonel Acoña's name immediately sprang to mind.

Everybody knew there was a blood vendetta between the colonel and the outlaw. Besides, the colonel had the whole GOE at his command. Yes, that was definitely the way to proceed.

He picked up the telephone, and ten minutes later he was speaking to the colonel himself.

"This is Sergeant Florian Santiago calling from the police station at Salamanca. I have tracked down Jaime Miró."

Acoña fought to keep his voice even. "Are you certain of this?"

"Yes, Colonel. He is at the Parador Nacional Raimundo de

Borgon, just outside of town. He is spending the night. My uncle is the room clerk. He telephoned me himself. There is another man and two women with Miró."

"Your uncle is positive it is Miró?"

"Yes, Colonel. He and the others are sleeping in the two back rooms on the second floor of the inn."

Acoña said, "Listen to me very carefully, Sergeant. I want you to go to the parador immediately and stand watch outside to make certain none of them leaves. I should be able to reach there in an hour. You are not to go inside. And stay out of sight. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir. I will leave immediately." He hesitated.

"Colonel, about the reward money—"

"When we catch Miró, it's yours."

"Thank you, Colonel. I am most—"

"Go."

"Yes, sir."

Florian Santiago replaced the receiver. He was tempted to call his mistress to tell her the exciting news, but that could wait. He would surprise her later. Meanwhile, he had a job to do.

He summoned one of the policemen on duty upstairs.

"Take over the desk. I have an errand to do. I'll be back in a few hours." And I'll come back a rich man, he thought.

The first thing I'll buy will be a new car—a Seat. A blue one. No, maybe it will be white.

Colonel Ramón Acoña replaced the receiver and sat still,

Setting his brain go to work. This time there would be no slipup. It was the final move in the chess game between them.

He would have to proceed very carefully. Miró would have sentries alert for trouble.

Acoña called in his aide-de-camp.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Pick out two dozen of your best marksmen. See that they're armed with automatic weapons. We're leaving for

Salamanca in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, sir."

There would be no escape for Miró. The colonel was already planning the raid in his mind. The parador would be completely surrounded by a cordon that would move in quickly and quietly. A sneak attack before the butcher has a chance to murder any more of my men. We'll kill them all in their sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, his aide returned. "We're ready to move, Colonel."

Sergeant Santiago lost no time in getting to the parodor.

Even without the colonel's warning, he had no intention of going after the terrorists. But now, in obedience to Acoña's orders, he stood in the shadows twenty yards away from the inn, where he had a good view of the front door. There was a chill in the night air, but the thought of the reward money kept Santiago warm. He wondered whether the two women inside were pretty and whether they were in bed with the men. Of one thing Santiago was certain: In a few hours, they would all be dead.

The army truck moved into town quietly and drove toward the parador.

Colonel Acoña flicked on a flashlight and looked at his map, and when they were a mile from the inn, he said, "Stop here. We'll walk the rest of the way. Maintain silence."

Santiago was unaware of their approach until a voice in his ear startled him with, "Who are you?"

He turned and found himself facing Colonel Ramón Acoña. My

God, he's frightening-looking, Santiago thought.

"I am Sergeant Santiago, sir."

"Has anyone left the inn?"

"No, sir. They're all inside, probably asleep by now."

The colonel turned to his aide. "I want half our men to form a perimeter around the hotel. If anyone tries to escape,

they are to shoot to kill. The others will come with me. The fugitives are in the two back bedrooms upstairs. Let's go."

Santiago watched as the colonel and his men entered the front door of the parador, moving quietly. He wondered if there would be a lot of shooting. And if there was, he wondered if his uncle might be lulled in the cross fire. That would be a pity. But on the other hand, there would be no one he would have to share the reward money with.

When the colonel and his men reached the top of the stairs, Acoña whispered, "Take no chances. Open fire as soon as you see them."

His aide asked, "Colonel, would you like me to go ahead of you?"

"No." He intended to have the pleasure of killing Jaime

Miró himself.

At the end of the hall were the two rooms where Miró and his group were staying. Acoña silently motioned six of his men to cover one door and the other six to cover the other door.

"Now!" he screamed.

It was the moment he had been burning for. At his signal,

the soldiers kicked in both doors simultaneously and rushed into the rooms, weapons ready. They stood there in the middle of the empty rooms, staring at the rumpled beds.

"Spread out. Hurry! Downstairs!" Acoña shrieked.

The soldiers raced through every room in the hotel,

smashing doors open, waking up startled guests. Jaime Miró and the others were nowhere to be found. The colonel stormed downstairs to confront the room clerk. There was no one in the lobby.

 "Hello," he called out. "Hello." There was no response.