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"You'll probably get the go-ahead then," Luis informed him. "We've just heard from the spotters."

"What's happening?" August asked.

"María Cornejas has been taken outside, into the courtyard," he said. "It looks like she's bleeding."

"Those shots we heard-?"

"Very possibly," Luis agreed. "The problem is, it doesn't look like those will be the last ones."

"What do you mean?"

"It looks as if one of the officers is selecting men for a firing squad," Luis told him.

"Where?" August asked.

"Outside the chapel," he said.

August snapped his fingers at Sondra and pointed to the map. She immediately brought it closer and turned the flashlight on it. He indicated for her to turn it over to the blueprint of the palace.

"I'm looking at the map now," August said. "What's the most direct route to the--"

"Negative," Luis replied.

"Sir?"

"This update is not to be acted upon. We wanted you to know what was going on in case you hear the volley. Darrell has already consulted with General Rodgers and Director Hood at Op-Center and they concur that your target must remain Amadori. If he's beginning to execute prisoners, it's vital that he be contained as soon as possible."

"I understand," August said, and he did. The mission objective was crucial. But the colonel felt the same nauseating kick in the gut he'd experienced in 1970 when his battle-weary company engaged a vastly superior North Vietnamese force outside of Hau Bon on the Song Ba River in Vietnam. August needed to cover the company's retreat and selected two men to stay behind with a pair of standoff rifles and hold the road as long as possible. He knew he would probably never see those two soldiers again, but the life of the company depended upon them. He also knew he would never forget the crooked half-smile one of the men gave him as he looked back at the company. It was a boy's smile-a boy who was struggling very hard to be a man.

"As soon as you're in position under the Hall of Tapestries," Luis said, "Darrell wants you to get into gear. He expects to give you the go command within the next ten to fifteen minutes."

"We'll be ready," August replied.

He briefed the team succinctly and then ordered them forward. There was no extraneous conversation. The Strikers reached their target in just over two minutes, after which Colonel August ordered them to remove their outer clothes. Beneath their damp jeans and jackets were kevlar-lined black jumpsuits. Reaching into their grips, the Strikers traded their Nikes and sandals for black "grippers," high-top sneakers with deeply ridged hard-rubber soles. The customized soles were designed to keep the wearer from slipping on slick surfaces and to enable them to stop suddenly and with precision. They were backed with kevlar to help prevent anyone from shooting up through a floor to bring the soldiers down.

The Strikers also strapped black leather sheaths around their thighs; the sheaths contained eight-inch-long serrated knives. A loop around the other thigh contained a pencil-thin flashlight. They tucked Uzis under their arms and pulled black ski masks over their heads. When they were ready, August moved them from the catacombs to the dungeon. Six of the Strikers went ahead two at a time, the middle group of two leapfrogging over the first pair and the last pair moving up to take their place. Aideen was teamed with Ishi Honda. This allowed the two stationary pairs to cover the front and rear, respectively. They reached the dungeon in slightly over three minutes. It looked exactly like it had in the photographs they'd seen back at Interpol.

The one exit from the dungeon was an old wooden door at the top of the long and very narrow staircase. The only light came from Sondra's flashlight and from the imperfect fit of the door. August motioned for Privates Pupshaw and George to check the door. August was prepared to blow it if they had to, though he'd prefer to enter with a little less thunder.

After a minute, Pupshaw came running back. "The hinges are rusted all to hell," he whispered into August's ear,