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By Root 429 0

where Striker was stationed. Striker's status at the moment was neutral. But there were still two Op-Center personnel in Spain. If things got out of hand there they might be called upon to leave in a hurry. Rodgers hadn't told him what Martha was doing in Spain because he obviously didn't want to risk being overheard. Bugging and electronic surveillance of cars belonging to military personnel was not uncommon. But August knew about the tense political situation in Spain. He also knew about Martha's involvement in ethnic issues. And he assumed that she was probably involved in diplomatic efforts to keep the nation's many political and cultural entities from fraying, from becoming involved in a catastrophic and far-reaching power struggle.

He also knew one thing more. Whoever had killed her was probably aware of why she was there. Which raised another question that transcended the shock of the moment: whether this was the first or the last shot in the possible destruction of Spain.

* * *

THREE

Monday, 6:45 p.m.

San Sebastián, Spain

Countless pieces of moonglow glittered atop the dark waters of La Concha Bay. The luminous shards were shattered into shimmering dust as the waves struck loudly at Playa de la Concha, the expansive, sensuously curving beach that bordered the elegant, cosmopolitan city. Just over a half mile to the east, fishing vessels and recreational boats rocked in the crowded harbor of Parte Vieja, the "old section." Their masts creaked in the firm southerly wind as small waves gently tapped at the hulls. A few stragglers, still hoping for a late-day catch, were only now returning to anchor. Seabirds, active by the score during the day, roosted silently beneath aged wharfs or on the high crags of the towering Isla de Santa Clara near the mouth of the bay.

Beyond the nesting birds and the idle boats, slightly more than a half mile north of the coast of Spain, the sleek white yacht Verídico lolled in the moonlit-waters. The forty-five-foot vessel carried a complement of four. Dressed entirely in black, one crewman stood watch on deck while another had the helm. A third man was taking his dinner in the curving dining area beside the galley and the fourth was asleep in the forward cabin.

There were also five passengers, all of whom were gathered in the very private midcabin. The door was shut and the heavy drapes were drawn over the two portholes. The passengers, all men, were seated around a large, ivory-colored table. There was a thick, oversized leather binder in the center of the table and a bottle of vintage Madeira beside it. The dinner plates had all been cleared away and only the near-empty wineglasses remained.

The men were dressed in expensive pastel-colored blazers and large, loose-fitting slacks. They wore jeweled rings and gold or silver necklaces. Their socks were silk and their shoes were handmade and brightly polished. Their haircuts were fresh and short. Their cigars were Cuban and four of them had been burning for quite some time; there were more in a humidor in the center of the table. The men's hands were soft and their expressions were relaxed. When they spoke their voices were soft and warm.

The owner of the Verídico, Seńor Esteban Ramirez, was also the founder of the Ramirez Boat Company, the firm that had built the yacht. Unlike the other men, he did not smoke. It wasn't because he did not want to but because it was not yet time to celebrate. Nor did he reminisce about how their Catalonian grandparents had raised sheep or grapes or grain in the fertile fields of León. As important as his heritage was, he couldn't think about such things right now. His mind and soul were preoccupied with what should have happened by now. His imagination was consumed with everything that was at stake-much as it had been during the years of dreaming, the months of planning, and the hours of execution.

What was keeping the man?

Ramirez reflected quietly on how, in years gone by, he used to sit in this very room of the yacht and wait for calls from the men he worked with at the American CIA.