their vacation in California. He'd forgotten
birthdays and anniversaries and school concerts.
He'd neglected to ask about report cards and
doctor's appointments and God knows what else.
Hood picked up the interoffice line as the
black-andwhite satellite photo was downloaded.
This was not the time to beat himself up. Tens of thousands of
lives were at risk. He still had
responsibilities, however distasteful Sharon had
managed to make the word sound.
"Mike, I'm here," Hood said. "What am I
looking at?"
"The Royal Palace in Madrid," he said.
"The effective view is from twenty-five feet
up looking down from about two o'clock. That's the main
courtyard of the palace."
"I don't suppose those are tourist vans,"
Hood said.
"No," Rodgers said. "Here's how we got there.
After the attack on the Ramirez factory,
Steve Viens had an NRO satellite follow
the prisoners. They went from the parking lot to the
airport in Bilbao to the airport in Madrid.
Then they were bused from there to the palace. We think that
woman near the front of the line is Maria
Comeja."
Hood enlarged the figure in the center. The computer
automatically cleaned up the image for him. He
hadn't known Maria well and he wasn't sure
he'd recognize her if she hadn't been
pointed out. But it certainly could be her, and it was the
only woman in view.
296 OP-CENTER
The screen cleared.
Other photographs began to appear.
"These are higher level views," Rodgers said.
"Fifty feet, one hundred feet, two hundred
feet. From the number of soldiers there and the
top-level brass who are coming and going we think that
that's where Amadori may be. But there's a
problem."
"I see it," Hood said as the higher views
appeared. " 'A square building with a courtyard in
the center and nothing higher around it. Infiltration during
the day is going to be a problem."
"Bingo," Rodgers said. "And waiting twelve
hours until dark may not be acceptable."
"What about Spanish uniforms?" Hood asked.
"Can't Striker wear those to get inside?"
"In theory, maybe," Rodgers said. "The problem
is it doesn't look like any of the soldiers who
bring prisoners to the palace or patrol the grounds
are actually going inside. That's another reason we
think General Amadori's there. He's probably
got an elite guard inside, patroling
the halls and taking care of security. They're the
only ones who'll have access."
"Are there any underground passageways?"
"We're looking into that now," Rodgers said. "
"Even if there are, coming up inside those big
sunlit corridors is going to be risky."
Hood's eyes burned and his mind was whirling. Part
of him wished he could just bomb the palace, fly up
to Connecticut, and collect his family. Maybe
stay there and open a fish-and-chips stand on the
seashore.
"So we wait?" Hood asked.
"No one here or in Madrid's in favor of that,"
BALANCE OF POWER 297
Rodgers said. " "But Aideen just arrived at the
Interpol office. She and Darrell are talking the
situation over with Brett and members of the Interpol
team, adapting their playbook for the palace. There's
a team of Interpol spotters on the roof of the
Teatro Real, the opera house, on the other side
of the avenue. They're scanning the entire palace with
an LDE trying to pick out Amadori's voice."
The LDE'-THE Long Distance Ear-was a
funnellike dish that collected all the sounds from a
narrow area and keyed in on those of a
specific decibel range. In the case of a
room inside a castle, it would automatically
filter out external sounds such as cars, birds, and
pedestrians. It would only "hear" very low intensity
sounds inside walls. It would then compare the sounds
to whatever was digitally stored in its memory-in this
case, Amadori's voice.
" "How long will it take them to scan the entire
castle?" Hood asked.
"Until about four o'clock," Rodgers said.
Hood looked at the computer clock. "That's
nearly two hours from now."
"I don't like the idea of Striker sitting around and
getting stale either," Rodgers said, "but it's the best
they can do."
"How far is the palace from the Interpol office?"
Hood asked.
"I'm checking a map now," Rodgers said. "It
looks to be about fifteen minutes by car-if there's
no traffic or military checkpoints.".
"Which means that if they sit and wait for the LDE
findings they're as much as two hours and fifteen
298 OP-CENTER
minutes away," Hood said. "If Amadori
decided to leave the area before we pinpoint
him, we'd have a problem."
"True," Rodgers said. "But even if the
Strikers were at the palace, there's nothing they can do.
They can't choose a game plan without knowing
exactly where he is. Besides, if Amadori
isn't there we may be sending them off in the wrong
direction."
Hood looked at the high-resolution photograph
of the troops in the courtyard. There were at least two
hundred of them, broken into small groups. The
soldiers looked as though they were drilling-perhaps
to defend the compound, perhaps to serve as firing squads.
In any case, it reminded Hood of the pictures
he'd seen of Saddam Hussein's Republican
Guards drilling in front of
his
residence before Desert Storm. Muscle flexing.
Amadori had to be there.
"Mike," Hood said, "we're responsible for
Maria being in on this. She's got no backup. I
can't have that."
Rodgers was silent for a moment. "I don't
disagree. But we've been over these photographs
and we're going through floor plans of the palace now.
Getting in there isn't going to be easy."
"They don't have to go in," Hood said. "I just
want some firepower in the area. Darrell can be in
touch with them through Ishi Honda."
"That's right," Rodgers said. "But the mission is still
Amadori and we don't know for sure that he's there.
We haven't been able to pick up any ELINT
BALANCE OF POWER 299
yet. It'll be another hour or so before we can start
getting that."
Hood was not getting impatient with Rodgers. The
general was doing exactly what he was supposed to be
doing. Pointing out options and possible pitfalls.
"If Amadori's somewhere else we'll pull
Striker off," Hood said. "And who knows? Maybe
the son of a bitch will decide to show himself and save us
the trouble of going in."
Rodgers exhaled audibly. "That's not likely,
Paul. But I'll tell Brett to move out
. I
also want to remind you that, while we brought Maria
into this, she acted without orders," Rodgers said.
"She put herself in this situation. And not for our
benefit, but for the benefit of her country. I will not be
in favor of risking team lives to evacuate her."
"Noted," Hood said. "And thanks."
Rodgers clicked off and Hood hung
up. He dumped the photos from the monitor and
turned off the desk lamp. He shut his eyes.
It made no sense; none at all. Clinging to a
job that by its very nature left you alone, cut off from
your family and often cut off from subordinates.
Maybe that's why he felt drawn to Maria's
situation. She was alone too.
No, Hood wouldn't forget the mission. And he
wouldn't forget what Mike Rodgers had been too
respectful to point out: that the Strikers had lives
and loved ones, just like Maria.
But Hood also couldn't forget Martha Mackall.
And he'd be damned if he did nothing while
another unarmed colleague faced danger in the
bloody streets of Madrid.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Tuesday, 8:36 a.m. Madrid, Spain
Maria followed the young captain into the corridor,
confident that she could trust the officer to bring her
to Amadori. Neither the captain nor the general had
anything to gain by tricking her. They had to be curious
about the information she said she possessed. And if he
didn't trust her, he wouldn't be in front of her.
He'd be behind her, with a gun.
Nonetheless, she was startled by the relative
ease with which she'd been able to bully the captain.
Either he was inexperienced or far more clever than she
gave him credit for.
He turned to the left. Maria stopped.
"I thought we were going to see the general," she said.
"We are," the captain replied. He extended his
arm down the hallway-away from the Hall of
Halberdiers.
"Isn't he in the throne room?" she asked.
"The throne room?" The captain laughed loudly.
"Wouldn't that be somewhat presumptuous?"
"I don't know," she replied. "Isn't being in this
palace somewhat presumptuous?"'"
BALANCE OF POWER 301
"Not when the king returns to Madrid and we need
to protect him," the captain said. "We intend
to secure both of the royal palaces."
"But there were guards-was
"Protecting the chamber from the prisoners." The
captain bowed his head in the direction of his
outstretched hand. "The general is in the state dining
room with his advisors."
Maria looked at him. She didn't believe him.
She didn't know why; she just didn't.
"But the question is not where the general is
located," the captain continued. "The question is whether
you have something to tell him or not. Are you coming,
Senorita Comeja?"
Maria looked down. For now, she had no choice but
to do what she was told. "I'm coming," she said, and
walked toward the captain.
The officer turned and strode briskly along the
brightly lit corridor, and then around the corner.
Maria walked a little slower, remaining several steps
behind him. Other soldiers moved quickly along the
corridor. Some of them had prisoners, others were
on field phones. A few were carrying computer
equipment into rooms. None of them was paying her any
attention.
This didn't feel right but Maria had to play it out.
Yes, she was coming-but not without precautions.
"Would you like a cigarette?" she asked the captain.
She was already reaching into the breast pocket of her
blouse. She removed the pack and took one of the
cigarettes out. She tore a match from the book of
matches.
"Thank you, no," said the captain. "Actually,
we'd
302 OP-CENTER
appreciate it if you didn't smoke
here. So many treasures. A careless flick-was
"I understand," she said.
The captain had said exactly what Maria had
expected him to say. She began to replace the
pack but first palmed the cigarette. Because the captain
was facing forward he didn't see her poke the match
into the tobacco of the palmed cigarette. Then she put
the cigarette down the front of her pants, into the
crotch, and put the pack back in her blouse
pocket.
Now, at least, she had a weapon.
The state dining room was on the other side of the
music room overlooking the Plaza Incognita.
On the other side of the plaza was the Campo del
Moro, the Camp of the Moors. The park marked the
site where the troops of the powerful emir All
bin-Yusuf camped in the eleventh century during the
Moorish attempt to conquer Spain.
They reached the door of the music room and the captain
knocked. He looked at Maria and smiled. She
reached his side but she didn't return his smile.
The door opened.
The captain extended a hand inside. "After you," he
said.
Maria took a step toward it and looked
in.
The windowless room was dark and it took a moment for
her eyes to adjust. Something moved toward her from the
shadows to the right. She backed away only to bump
into the captain, who was standing directly and solidly
behind her. Suddenly, he pushed her inside. At the
same time, two pairs of hands grabbed her forearms.
She was pulled off her feet and landed
BALANCE OF POWER 303
facedown on the floor. Boots were planted
firmly on her shoulder blades.
A light came on, casting a soft amber glow
throughout the room. Maria looked out at a pastoral
mural as a third set of hands groped her legs,
waist, arms, and chest, searching for concealed weapons.
Her belt and watch were removed and they took the
pack of cigarettes.
When the search was finished, the extra set of hands
suddenly pulled back on Maria's hair. The
tug was rough and she found herself looking up. With her
shoulders pushed down and her head drawn back, the
pain in her neck was intense.
The captain walked over and looked down at her.
He smirked and put the hard heel of his boot against
her forehead. He leaned into it and her head
went back further.
"You asked me if I were sure I would get the
information in time," the captain said. He grinned
cruelly. "Yes,
senorita.
I am sure. Just as I am certain that many of the people
we've brought to the palace will be purged from the
system. Just as I am sure that we will win. A new
nation isn't born without blood, sacrifice, and
one thing more: willingness. The willingness to do whatever is
necessary to get what you want."
Maria's vocal cord strained against the tightening
flesh of her throat. Thick cables of pain twisted
along her body fro
m the front of her ears to the small
of her back.
"I could snap your neck," the captain said, "but then
you would die and that wouldn't help me. In 304
OP-CENTER
stead, I will give you five minutes to reflect on
the situation and then tell me what you know. If you
talk, you will remain our guest but you will be unharmed.
If you choose not to talk, I will leave you to these fine
men. Believe me,
senorita.
They are very good at what they do."
The captain released her forehead. Maria gagged
horribly as her throat relaxed. The pain in her
back was replaced by a cool, tingling sensation up and
down her spine. She swallowed hard and tried
to move, but the men were still standing on her back.
The captain looked at the men. " "Let her
taste some of what she can expect," he said. "Then
maybe she will think differently."
As he backed away, Maria felt the boots
lifted from her shoulders. She was hoisted up by the
arms. As she was getting her footing a fist was
driven hard into her belly. She doubled over, the
air rushing from her lungs. Her legs went out from under
her but the men held her up. One of them grabbed her
hair from behind, pulled her erect, and she was punched
again. Maria actually felt the contours of the fist against
the small of her back. Her legs wobbled like
ribbon and she moaned loudly. The next blow came
up from under her chin. Fortunately, her tongue
wasn't between her teeth as they clacked loudly and
painfully. After a second blow, which knocked her
head toward the right, her lower jaw hung down. She
felt blood and saliva roll along her extended
tongue.
The men released her and she dropped to the
floor. She landed on her back with her arms
splayed and her knees raised. Slowly, her bent
legs rolled to the right.
BALANCE OF POWER 305
Maria didn't hurt; she knew that the pain would come
later. But she felt utterly spent, the way she
did when she bicycled up a hill and had no
strength left in her limbs. Yet as weak as she was
she forced herself to open her eyes and look at the men.
She wanted to see where they wore their guns.
They were all right-handed. That would make things easier.
The soldiers stepped into the hallway, splitting up
her cigarettes. They shut the door and turned off
the light. She knew this drill: break the body and
then leave the shocked, disoriented mind a few
minutes alone to contemplate mortality.
Clancy, Tom - Ballance of Power Page 29
