helicopters. McCaskey stopped. He looked
to his left, toward the palace. The soldiers also
looked over. A moment later six
choppers flew over the southern wall. They hovered
over the courtyard, blocking the sun and sending out an
ear-splitting roar.
It was the sweetest sound McCaskey had ever
heard. The sweetest sight McCaskey ever saw
was what looked like police sharpshooters leaning from the
open doors and aiming CETME assault rifles
down at the soldiers.
BALANCE OF POWER 441
McCaskey heard sirens along the avenues
alongside the palace. Aideen and Striker must have
gotten out and given the police enough intel to send in the
cavalry-serious business cavalry.
McCaskey started walking again. "Come on. Father,"
he said. "They're on our side."
The dual air and land approach suggested
to McKaskey that the police were waiting for the army
to split up like this so they could pin both parts down. That
would significantly weaken resistance.
McCaskey and Father Norberto finished crossing the
courtyard as the sirens neared and the choppers held the
soldiers back. McCaskey ached to embrace
Maria. But in his present condition it would probably
cost him his lungs. She was also hurt, and Luis
needed attention.
"It's good to see you again," Maria said, smiling.
"Did I hear correctly? About Amadori?"
McCaskey nodded as he looked at Luis. The
officer was ashen, his breathing very shallow. McCaskey
checked the improvised bandage. Then he took off
his own shirt and began tearing it into fresh strips.
"Father," McCaskey said, "we have to get Luis
to a hospital. Please-would you flag down a car?"
"I don't think that will be necessary," Norberto said.
McCaskey looked toward the street. A police
car had pulled up to the curb and four men had gotten
out. They were dressed in distinctive dark blue
berets, white belts, and spats.
"The Guardia Real," Maria said. "The Royal
Guard."
442 OP-CENTER
A fifth man got out as well. He was a tall,
whitehaired gentleman with a proud military bearing.
He approached quickly.
"It's General de la Vega," McCaskey
said. Then he shouted, "We need help here. Luis
needs a doctor!"
was l'Ambulancia!"
Maria added.
The Royal Guard members began running
toward them. One of them shouted something to Maria.
She nodded then turned to McCaskey. "They're
setting up a mobile field hospital in the
Plaza de Oriente," she said. "They're going
to take him there."
McCaskey looked down at Luis. He finished
bandaging the Interpol officer then took his hand and
squeezed it hard. "Hold on, partner,"
McCaskey said. "Help's here."
Luis squeezed back weakly. His eyes remained
shut. Father Norberto knelt beside Luis to pray for
him. The priest was obviously hurting. It was also
obvious that he had no intention of letting that stop
him.
A moment later gunfire erupted once again from
inside the palace. McCaskey and Maria
exchanged glances.
"Sounds like the government's playing for keeps,"
McCaskey said.
Maria nodded. "We're going to lose a lot of good
people today. And for what? One man's insane vision."
"Or his vanity," McCaskey said. "I'm never
sure which one motivates a dictator more."
As they spoke, the police arrived. Two men
lifted Luis up gently and carried him
toward the plaza. The
BALANCE OF POWER 443
general thanked McCaskey and Maria for all they
had done, then ran after them. The other two Royal
Guardsmen stopped and lifted Maria.
"An honor guard." She grinned.
McCaskey smiled and rose, assisted by Father
Norberto. They walked alongside Maria as she
was carried away. McCaskey felt a
knifelike jab with every step he took. But he
kept up with the guards. It was rare to get a second
chance at anything, whether it was the opportunity to fix
a wrong choice at a moment of crisis or
to reclaim a lost love. McCaskey had
experienced both. He knew what it was like to be
tortured by events his indecision or fear or weakness
had caused.
If Maria Comeja would have him, there was no way he
intended to lose her again. Not even for a minute. The
pain of blowing a second chance would be much, much
worse.
Maria sought and found McCaskey's hand. A moment
later her eyes found his. And at least one pain
stopped when it became clear that she felt the same.
FIFTY
Tuesday, 7:20 a.m. Washington, B.c.
Though he hadn't slept much over the past
twentyfour hours, Paul Hood felt
surprisingly refreshed.
He had spoken with Colonel August and Aideen
Marley when they returned to Interpol headquarters.
The fate of Darrell McCaskey, Maria
Comeja, and Luis Garcia de la Vega hadn't
been known then- although General Manolo de la
Vega had assured him that when the time was right, a
police assault squad would be going in even if
he had to kick each butt in personally.
McCaskey finally called from a field hospital
only to say that they were all right. A more detailed
report would have to wait until they were on a secure
line back at Interpol.
Hood, Rodgers, Herbert, Coffey, and
Plummer celebrated with a fresh pot of coffee and
congratulations all around. There was a call from
Ambassador Abril, who said that the king and the
prime minister had been informed and would be addressing
Spain at two p.m. local time. Abril could not
tell them whether the Royal Palace had been
taken from General Amadori's troops. He said
that that information would be provided to the
BALANCE OF POWER 445
White House when it was available and would have to make
its way through channels.
Abril also could not tell them what the future of
Spain might be-not only because it would be
inappropriate to, but because he truly didn't
know.
"Deputy Serrador and General Amadori both
released some very powerful opposing forces," he said.
"Ethnic and cultural differences have been inflamed.
I hope-yet am not hopeful-that they can be doused."
"We'll all be praying for the best," Hood said.
The ambassador thanked him.
After Hood hung up, Herbert muttered a few
graphic Southern expressions for the ambassador and
his secrecy-though Ron Plummer reminded him that
Abril was acting according to protocol.
"I remember how upset Jimmy Carter was when the
American hostages were released from Tehran," he
said. " The Iranians waited until Ronald
Reagan had
been sworn in to let them go. When former
President Carter telephoned the White House
to find out if the Americans were free, he was told
that that information was classified. He had to find out about
it much later."
Herbert was not appeased. He picked up the phone
on the armrest of his wheelchair and called his office.
He asked his assistant to phone Interpol and ask
the spotters for an update on the situation at the
palace. Less than two minutes later he was
informed that the shooting had stopped and, in the few areas
of the courtyard they could see, the police seemed to be
in control. A call to Stephen Viens and a check with
NRO satellites confirmed that soldiers were being
dis-
446 OR-CENTER
armed in other parts of the compound and civilians were being
led out to a Red Cross facility that was being set up
outside the Cathedral of the Almudena.
Herbert grinned triumphantly. "What do you say
we inform Abril that "diplomatic channels"
include a lot more stations than they used to."
The call from McCaskey finally came at
sevenforty-five. Hood put it on the
speakerphone. McKaskey said he was whipped and
suffering from three broken ribs and a bruised
kidney. Otherwise, he said, he was in good spirits.
Maria and Luis were in surgery but both were expected
to pull through.
"I'll be staying here for a while
to recover," McCaskey said. "Hope that isn't
a problem."
"No problem at all," Hood said. "Stay
until you recover everything you feel you need."
McCaskey thanked him.
They did not discuss McCaskey's role in
killing General Amadori. That would not be discussed
until someone from Op-Center-probably Mike
Rodgers- flew over to debrief him. It was
understood among intelligence agents that assassination
must be treated with an almost ceremonial reverence.
Debriefing must be done face to face, like confession.
That helped to ensure that killing a leader or spy,
while sometimes necessary, would never be taken casually.
"There is one thing I'd like to do as soon as
possible," McCaskey said.
"What's that?" Hood asked.
"There's been a lot of religious unrest here,"
McCaskey said. "General de la Vega tells
me that it appears that General Superior
Gonzalez, leader of the
BALANCE OF POWER 447
Jesuits in Spain, was a strong supporter of
General Amadori. The General Superior was
overcome with tear gas in Striker's
assault-he'd been meeting with the general in the throne
room. There is certain to be a Vatican
investigation."
"That's going to make a lot of Spaniards very
unhappy," Rodgers said. "Especially if the
General Superior denies the charges and
loyalties are strained between the Jesuits and other
Roman Catholics."
"It's all going to help contribute to the collapse
of Spain as we knew it," McCaskey said, "which
everyone here believes is imminent. Someone who
spoke directly with the prime minister told
General de la Vega that a new constitution is
already being worked on-one that will allow the different
regions virtual autonomy under a very loose
central government."
Herbert folded his powerful arms. "Why don't we
call old Abril up and let him know what's
gonna happen in his own country."
Hood frowned and motioned him silent.
"The reason I mentioned General Superior
Gonzalez," McCaskey said, "is that there is a
Jesuit priest who helped to save our lives.
His name is Father Norberto Alcazar."
"Is he all right?" Hood asked,
writing down his name.
"He was hurt getting me safely to Maria's
side- couple of heavy-duty bruises from
gunfire chopping up the courtyard. Nothing serious,
though. But I want to do something for him. He
doesn't strike me as the kind of priest who'd
want to be kicked upstairs or anything like that. Father
Norberto was telling me at
448 OP-CENTER
the field hospital that he lost his brother in this
ordeal. He's had it pretty rough. Perhaps we can
do something for his parish. Work it through the Vatican, if
the White House can arrange that."
"We'll certainly talk to them about that," Hood
said. "We can set up a scholarship somewhere in the
brother's name."
"Sounds good," McCaskey said. "Maybe one for
Martha too. Maybe from all of this madness a little
good
will
come."
After the other men in the room wished McCaskey
well-"And I don't mean with just your health,"
Herbert added-Hood hung up. Father Norberto's
story reminded him of something that tends to get
lost in events like these. It isn't only a nation whose
destiny is changed. The ripples go outward,
affecting the world-and the ripples go inward, affecting every
citizen. It was not only an awesome
metamorphosis to behold. It was damn near
overwhelming to have been an integral part of the
process. And without having left this office.
It was time to hang that responsibility up.
Hood buzzed Bugs Benet and asked him to call
his wife. She was at her parents' home in Old
Saybrook, Hood told him.
Herbert looked at Hood. "Sudden trip?" he
asked.
Hood shook his head. "Long time in the works."
Hood swung the computer monitor toward him. He
went to his personal file.
Bugs buzzed. "Sir?"
"Yes?"
BALANCE OF POWER 449
"Mr. Kent says that Sharon and the kids left
early this morning to go back to Washington," Bugs
told him. "They were going to take the eight o'clock
flight. Do you want to speak with him?"
"No," Hood said. He looked at his watch.
"Thank him and tell him I'll call
later."
"Shall I ring Mrs. Hood's cellular?"
"No, Bugs," Hood said. "I'll tell her
when I meet her at the airport."
Hood hung up and finished his coffee. Then he
rose.
"You're going to the airport now?" Herbert asked.
"Chief, I'm sure you're going to have to brief the
President."
Hood looked at Rodgers. "Mike, are you
okay to handle that?"
"Sure," Rodgers said. He patted his bandages.
"I got myself rewrapped before I came here."
"Good," Hood said. He took his cell phone out
of his jacket pocket and put it in a drawer.
"I'm going to get out of here before I get
summoned.""
"When will you be back?" Herbert asked.
Hood looked at the monitor. He stood over the
keyboard. "I'll see you at the service for
Martha," he said.
He looked at Rodgers then. The general's eyes
were sharp and unblinki
ng. He understood.
"I can tell you this, though," Hood continued.
"Darrell was right. Good can come from madness.
Through all the crises we've had to deal with, I
couldn't have been blessed with a greater team."
"I don't like the sound of that," Herbert said.
450 OP-CENTER
Hood smiled. Still smiling, he e-mailed his
resignation to the White House. Then he turned from
his desk, threw a respectful salute at Mike
Rodgers, and walked out the door.
ABOUT THE CREATORS
Tom Clancy is the author of
The Hunt for Red October, Red Storm Rising,
Patriot Games, The Cardinal of the Kremlin,
Clear and. Present Danger, The Sum of All
Fears, Without Remorse, Debt of Honor,
and
Executive Orders.
He is also the author of the nonfiction books
Submarine, Armored Cav, Fighter Wing,
Marine,
and
Airborne.
He lives in Maryland.
Steve Pieczenik is a Harvard-trained
psychiatrist with an M.d. from Comell University
Medical College. He has a
Ph.d. in International Relations from M.i.t.
and served as principal hostage negotiator and
international crisis manager while Deputy
Assistant Secretary of State under Henry
Kissinger, Cyrus Vance, and James Baker.
He is also the bestselling novelist of the
psycho-political thrillers
The Mind Palace, Blood Heat, Maximum
Vigilance,
and
Pax Pacifica.
Clancy, Tom - Ballance of Power Page 42
