Sands of Time

"I want you to go on a mission for me."

"Yes, Mrs. Scott."

She studied him a moment, wondering how much she could tell him. I can tell him nothing she decided. As long as I am alive, I refuse to put myself or the company in jeopardy. Let him find Patricia first, and then I’ll decide how to handle her.

She leaned forward. "Twenty-eight years ago, an orphan was left on the doorstep of a farmhouse outside avila, Spain. I want you to find out where she is today and bring her back here to me as quickly as possible."

Alan Tucker’s face remained impassive. Mrs. Scott did not like her employees to show emotion.

"Yes, ma’am. I’ll leave tomorrow."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Colonel Ramon Acoca was in an expansive mood. All the pieces were finally falling into place.

An orderly came into his office. "Colonel Sostelo has arrived."

"Show him in."

I won’t be needing him anymore, Acoca thought. He can go back to his tin soldiers.

Colonel Fal Sostelo walked in. "Colonel."

"Colonel."

It’s ironic, Sostelo thought. We hold the same rank, but the scarred giant has the power to break me. Because he’s connected to the OPUS MUNDO.

It was an indignity for Sostelo to have to answer Acoca’s summons as though he were some unimportant subordinate. But he managed to show none of his feelings. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes." Acoca waved him to a chair. "Sit down. I have some news for you. Jaime Miro has the nuns."

"What?"

"Yes. They’re traveling with Miro and his men. He’s split them up into three groups."

"How – how do you know that?"

Ramon Acoca leaned back in his chair. "Do you play chess?"

"No."

"Pity. It’s a very educational game. In order to be a good player, it’s necessary to get into the mind of your opponent. Jaime Miro and I play chess with each other."

Fal Sostelo was staring at him. "I don’t understand how – "

"Not literally, Colonel. We don’t use a chess board. We use our minds. I probably understand Jaime Miro better than anyone in the world. I know how his mind works. I knew that he would try to blow up the dam at Puente la Reina. We captured two of his lieutenants there, and it was only by luck that Miro himself got away. I knew that he would try to rescue them, and Miro knew that I knew it." Acoca shrugged. "I didn’t anticipate that he would use the bulls to effect their escape." There was a note of admiration in his voice.

"You sound as though you – "

"Admire him? I admire his mind. I despise the man."

"Do you know where Miro is headed?"

"He is traveling north. I will catch him within the next three days."

Colonel Sostelo was gaping at him, stunned.

"It will finally be checkmate."

It was true that Colonel Acoca understood Jaime Miro, and the way his mind worked, but it was not enough for him. The colonel wanted an edge, to ensure victory, and he had found it.

"How – ?"

"One of Miro’s terrorists," Colonel Acoca said, "is an informant."

Rubio, Tomas, and the two sisters avoided the large cities and took side roads, passing old stone villages with grazing sheep and goats, and shepherds listening to music and soccer games on their transistor radios. It was a colorful juxtaposition of the past and the present, but Lucia had other things on her mind.

She stayed close to Sister Teresa, waiting for the first opportunity to get the cross and leave. The two men were always at their side. Rubio Arzano was the more considerate of the two, a tall, pleasant-looking, cheerful man. A simple-minded peasant, Lucia decided. Tomas Sanjuro was slight and balding. He looks more like a shoe clerk than a terrorist It will be easy to outwit them both.

They walked across the plains north of avila by night, cooled by the winds blowing down from the Guadarrama mountains. There was a haunting emptiness about the plains by moonlight. They passed granjas of wheat, olive trees, grapevines, and maize, and they foraged for potatoes and lettuce, fruit from the trees, and eggs and chickens from the hen coops.

"The whole countryside of Spain is a huge market," said Rubio Arzano.

Tomas Sanjuro grinned. "And it’s all for free."

Sister Teresa was totally oblivious to her surroundings. Her only thought was to reach the convent at Mendavia. The cross was getting heavy, but she was determined not to let it out of her hands. Soon, she thought. We’ll be there soon. We’re fleeing from Gethsemane and our enemies to the new mansion He has prepared for us.

Lucia said, "What?"

Sister Teresa was unaware that she had spoken aloud.

"I – nothing," she mumbled.

Lucia took a closer look at her. The older woman seemed distracted and vaguely disoriented, unaware of what was happening around her. She nodded toward the canvas package that Sister Teresa carried. "That must be heavy," Lucia said sympathetically. "Wouldn’t you like me to carry it for a while?"

Sister Teresa clutched it to her body more tightly. "Jesus carried a heavier burden. I can carry this for Him. Does it not say in Luke: ‘If any man would come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me’? I’ll carry it," she said stubbornly.

There was something odd in her tone.

"Are you all right, Sister?"

"Of course."

Sister Teresa was far from all right. She had not been able to sleep. She felt dizzy and feverish. Her mind was playing tricks again. I mustn’t let myself become ill, she thought. Sister Betina will scold me. But Sister Betina was not there. It was so confusing. And who were these men? I don’t trust them. What do they want with me?