"Good morning."

"Good morning."

"Have you thought about our conversation?"

She had thought of nothing else all night."Yes, Jaime."

He looked into her eyes, trying to read the answer there.

"Will you wait for me?"

"Jaime—"

At that moment Largo Cortez hurried up to them. With him was a leathery-looking man in his fifties.

"I'm afraid there won't be any time for breakfast," Cortez said. "You should be leaving. This is Jos й Cebriбn, your guide. He will take you across the mountains into France.

He's the best guide in San Sebastian."

"I'm glad to see you, Josй," Jaime said. "What's your plan?"

"We're going to take the first part of the journey by foot," Josй Cebriбn told the group. "On the other side of the border, I've arranged for cars to be waiting for us. We should hurry. Come along, please."

The group moved out into the street, which was painted yellow by the rays of the bright sun.

Largo Cortez came out of the hotel to see them off. "Safe journey," he said.

"Thank you for everything," Jaime replied. "We'll be back,

amigo. Sooner than you think."

"We go this way," Josй Cebriбn ordered.

The group started to turn toward the square. And at that moment, soldiers and members of the GOE suddenly materialized at both ends of the street, sealing it off. There were at least a dozen of them, all heavily armed. Colonels Ramón

Acoña and Fal Sostelo were leading them.

Jaime glanced quickly toward the beach, looking for an escape route. Another dozen soldiers were approaching from that direction. There was no escape. They would have to fight. Jaime instinctively reached for his gun.

Colonel Acoña called out, "Don't even think about it,

Miró, or we'll shoot all of you down where you're standing."

Jaime's mind was racing furiously, looking for a way out.

How had Acoña known where to find him? Jaime turned and saw

Amparo standing in the doorway, a look of profound sorrow on her face.

Felix said, "What the bloody hell! I thought you—"

"I gave her sleeping pills. They should have knocked her out until we got across the border."

"The bitch!"

Colonel Acoña walked toward Jaime. "It's over." He turned to one of his men. "Disarm them."

Felix and Ricardo were looking toward Jaime for guidance,

ready to follow his lead. Jaime shook his head. Reluctantly,

he handed over his gun, and Felix and Ricardo followed suit.

"What are you going to do with us?" Jaime asked.

Several passersby stopped to watch the proceedings.

Colonel Acoña's voice was curt. "I'm taking you and your gang of murderers back to Madrid. We'll give you a fair military trial and then hang you. If I had my way, I'd hang you here now."

"Let the sisters go," Jaime said. "They had nothing to do with this."

"They're accomplices. They're as guilty as you are."

Colonel Acoña turned and gave a signal. The soldiers motioned to the growing crowd of onlookers to move aside and let three army tracks drive up.

"You and your assassins will ride in the middle truck," the colonel informed Jaime. "My men will be in front of you and in back of you. If any of you makes one false move, they have orders to kill all of you. Do you understand?"

Jaime nodded.

Colonel Acoña spat into Jaime's face. "Good. Into the truck."

There was an angry murmur from the now sizable crowd.

Amparo watched impassively from the doorway as Jaime,

Megan, Graciela, Ricardo, and Felix climbed into the truck,

surrounded by soldiers with automatic weapons.

Colonel Sostelo walked up to the driver of the first truck. "We'll head straight for Madrid. No stops along the way."

"Yes, Colonel."

By now, many people had gathered at both ends of the street to watch what was happening. Colonel Acoña started to climb into the first truck. He called out to those in front of the truck, "Clear the way."

From the side streets more people began to emerge.

"Move along," Acoña ordered. "Out of the way."

And still they came, the men wearing the wide Basque chapellas. It was as though they were responding to some invisible signal. Jaime Miró is in trouble. They came from shops and homes. Housewives dropped what they were doing and moved out into the street. Shopkeepers about to open for business heard the news and hurried to the hotel. And still they came. Artists and plumbers and doctors, mechanics and salesmen and students, many carrying shotguns and rifles,

axes and scythes. They were Basques, and this was then homeland. It started with a few, and then a hundred, and within minutes it had swollen to more than a thousand,

filling the sidewalks and streets, completely surrounding the army trucks. They were ominously silent.

Colonel Acoña observed the huge crowd in desperation. He screamed, "Everybody get out of the way or we'll start shooting."

Jaime called out, "I wouldn't advise it. These people hate you for what you're trying to do to them. A word from me and they'll tear you and your men to pieces. There's one thing you forgot, Colonel. San Sebastian is a Basque town. It's my town." He turned to his group. "Let's get out of here."

Jaime helped Megan down from the truck, and the others followed. Acoña watched helplessly, his face tight with fury.

The crowd was waiting, hostile and silent. Jaime walked up to the colonel. "Take your trucks and get back to Madrid."

Acoña looked around at the still growing mob. "I—you won't get away with this, Miró."

"I have gotten away with it. Now get out of here." He spat in Acoña's face.

The colonel stared at him for a long, murderous moment. It can't end this way, he thought desperately. I was so close.

It was checkmate. But he knew that it was worse than a defeat for him. It was a death sentence. The OPUS MUNDO would be waiting for him in Madrid. He looked at the sea of people surrounding him. He had no choice.

He turned to his driver, and his voice was choked with fury. "We're moving out."

The crowd stepped back, watching as the soldiers climbed into the trucks. A moment later, the trucks began to roll down the street, and the crowd began to cheer wildly. It started out as a cheer for Jaime Miró, and it grew louder and louder, and soon they were cheering for their freedom, and their fight against tyranny, and their coming victory, and the streets reverberated with the noise of their celebration.

Two teenagers were screaming themselves hoarse. One turned to the other. "Let's join ETA."

An elderly couple held each other, and the woman said,

"Now maybe they'll give us back our farm."

An old man stood alone in the crowd, silently watching the army trucks leave. When he spoke, he said, "They'll be back one day."

Jaime took Megan's hand and said, "It's over. We're free.

We'll be across the border in an hour. I'll take you to my aunt."

She looked into his eyes. "Jaime—"

A man pushed his way toward them through the crowd and hurried up to Megan.

"Excuse me," he said breathlessly. "Are you Sister Megan?"

She turned to him. "Yes."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "I've had quite a time finding you. My name is Alan Tucker. I wonder if I could speak to you for a moment?"

"Yes."

"Alone."

"I'm sorry. I'm just leaving for—"

"Please. This is very important. I've come all the way from New York to find you."

She looked at him, puzzled. "To find me? I don't understand. Why—?"

"I'll explain it to you, if you'll give me a moment."