Now that they were here, it bothered Aideen that they were collaborating with killers. But as Martha had said, different countries had different rules. Aideen could only trust that Maria knew what she was doing.
María lit Juan’s cigarette and then she did her own. The way she lit his smoke — cupping the match under Juan’s cigarette, inviting him to take her hands and move them toward the tip — made the action very intimate. Aideen admired how she used that to establish a rapport with the man.
“Señor Ramirez and the heads of other business groups and familias were slain yesterday by a man working for Amadori,” María said. “I believe you’ve met him. Adolfo Alcazar.”
Juan said nothing.
María’s voice was softer than Aideen had ever heard it. She was wooing Juan.
“Amadori is a very powerful officer,” Maria continued, “who appears to hold a key place in the food chain of what’s been going on. Here’s how it looks to me. Ramirez had an American assassinated yesterday. Amadori knew this was going to happen and let it happen. Why? So that he could present an audiotape to the nation implicating Deputy Serrador. Why? So that Serrador and the Basques he represents would be discredited at home and abroad. Then he had Alcazar murder your employer and his coconspirators. Why? To discredit the Catalonians and destroy their power-base. If Serrador and the business leaders were planning some kind of political maneuver, that’s finished now.
“More importantly,” Maria went on, “the presence of a conspiracy weakens the government considerably. They don’t know who they can trust or who to turn to for stability. Words won’t reassure the people. They’re fighting each other from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean, from the Bay of Biscay to the Strait of Gibraltar. The government needs someone strong to establish order. I believe that Amadori has orchestrated things to make himself that man.”
Juan stared at her through the smoke of his cigarette. “So?” he said. “Order will be restored.”
“But maybe not as it was,” Maria said. “I know a little about Amadori — but not enough. He’s a Castilian nationalist and, from all I can determine, a megalomaniac. He appears to have used these incidents to put himself in a position to have martial law declared throughout Spain — and then to run that martial law. I’m concerned that he won’t step down after that. I need to know if you have or can get any intelligence that will help me stop him.”
Juan smirked. “You’re suggesting that Interpol and the Ramirez familia work together?”
“I am.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Juan said. “What will stop you from gathering intelligence on us?”
“Nothing,” María admitted.
Juan’s smirk wavered. “Then you admit you might.”
“Yes, I admit that,” Maria said. “But if we don’t stop General Amadori, then whatever intelligence I happen to gather on the familia will be useless. The general will hunt you people down and destroy you. If not for killing his operative, then for the threat you represent. The possibility that you could rally other familias against him.”
Juan looked at Ferdinand. The granite-solid watchman thought for a moment and then nodded once. Juan regarded Maria. So did Aideen. Maria had played Juan honestly — and beautifully.
“Adversity has made stranger trenchmates,” Juan said. “All right. We’ve been looking into Amadori since we returned to the factory.” He snickered. “We still have some allies in government and the military, though not many. The death of Señor Ramirez has scared people.”
“As it was meant to,” María remarked.
“Amadori is based in Madrid, at the office of the Defense Ministry,” Juan said. “But we hear he has established a headquarters elsewhere. We’re trying to find out where. He has powerful Castilian allies in the Congreso de los Diputados and in the Senado. They’re backing him with deeds and with silence.”
“What do you mean?”
“The prime minister has the right to declare martial law,” Juan said, “but the parliament can effectively block him by cutting off funds if they don’t approve of the measure or the leader.”
“And they haven’t done that here,” Maria suggested.
“No,” Juan said. “I’ve been told by an informer from the Ruiz familia—”
“The computer makers?” Maria asked.
“Yes,” Juan said. “I’ve been told that the funding was actually above what the prime minister had requested. By fivefold.”
María whistled.
“But why wouldn’t they back him?” Aideen asked. “Spain is facing great danger.”
Juan looked from María to Aideen. “Usually, the money is approved in parcels. That’s done as a means of preventing exactly this kind of coup. Powerful people are behind this. Perhaps they or their families have been threatened. Perhaps they’ve been promised positions of greater authority in the new regime.”
“Regardless,” María said, “they’ve given Amadori the power and the money to do whatever he deems necessary.” She drew slowly on her cigarette. “Simple and brilliant. With the army under his control and the government crippled by acts of treason, General Amadori can’t be stopped by any legal means.”
“Exactly,” Juan said. “Which is why the familia has had to work on this in our own way.”
María looked at Juan then ground her cigarette on the floor. “What would happen if he were removed?”
“Do you mean dismissed?” Juan asked.
“If I’d meant dismissed I would have said dismissed,” the woman replied sharply.
Juan turned and put his cigarette out against the metal wall. He shrugged. “We would all benefit. But it would have to be done quickly. If Amadori has time to establish himself as the savior of Spain, then whatever momentum he creates will continue with or without him.”
“Granted,” María said. “And he will move quickly to present himself as a hero.”
Juan nodded. “The problem is, it won’t be easy getting close to him. If he stays in one place, there will be security. If he moves around, his itinerary will be classified. We’d have to be very lucky just to—”
Aideen held up her hand. “Quiet!”
The others looked at her. A moment later María obviously heard it too. By then they could feel it in their gut — the low beat of distant rotors.
“Helicopters!” Juan said. He jumped to the back of the van and opened the door.
Aideen looked past him. Coming in over the nearby hills were the navigation lights of four helicopters. They were about a mile away.
“They’re coming toward the factory,” Juan said. He turned toward María. “Yours?”
She shook her head. She pushed past him and jumped onto the asphalt. She stood watching the choppers for a moment. “Get your people out of here or into safe areas,” she said. “Arm them.”
Aideen slid out around the men. “Hold on,” she said. “Are you telling him to shoot at Spanish soldiers?”
“I don’t know!” she snapped. She started running toward the car. “These are probably Amadori’s men. If any of the familia members are captured or killed, it accomplishes what we’re afraid of. By shutting down pockets of dissent, he’s strengthened in the eyes of the people.”
Aideen jogged after her. She was trying to imagine some other scenario. But there were no riots in San Sebastián and the police were handling the inquiry into the explosion in the bay. There were only small homes and fields between this spot and the mountains: the Ramirez factory was the only target large enough to merit four helicopters.
This is a civilized nation preparing to make war on itself, she told herself. Though it was difficult to accept that fact, it was becoming more and more real by the moment.