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"In what context?" Hood asked.

VanZandt looked down at the printout. "In one case as a man whom the spy had seen at a meeting with a Soviet officer-Amadori was wearing his nameplate-and in the second case as someone to whom intelligence was to be reported in a matter involving a West German businessman who was trying to buy a Spanish newspaper."

"So," the President said, "what we're dealing with here is someone who's familiar with a failed coup in his own country and with antirebel tactics in other nations. He also has a lifetime of contacts, intelligence gathering capability, and virtual control of the Spanish military. Ambassador Abril fears, and not without some justification, that both Portugal and France are at risk. Running Spain as a military state, Amadori would be ideally positioned to undermine both governments over time and move troops in."

"Over NATO'S dead body," VanZandt said.

"You forget. General," the President replied. "Amadori appears to have engineered this takeover as a progovernment action. He allowed a conspiracy to get going and then crushed it. It's a brilliant strategy: let an enemy show itself then crush it. And while you're crushing it, make the government look corrupt and crush them too."

"Whether he runs France or Portugal personally or puts in a puppet regime," Lanning said thoughtfully, "he still calls the shots."

"Exactly," said the President. "What came out of my conversation with Abril and the Vice-President is that there's going to be a new government in Spain. There's no dispute about that. But we also agreed that whoever comes to power in Spain, it mustn't be Amadori. So the first question is, do we have the time and sufficient manpower to turn anyone there against him? And if not, is there any way that we can get to him ourselves?"

VanZandt shook his head and sat back. "This is a rotten business, Mr. President," he said. "A dirty, rotten business."

"I think so too. General," the President replied. He sounded surprisingly contrite. "But unless anyone's got any ideas, I don't see any way around it."

"How about waiting?" CIA Director Fox asked. "This Amadori may self-destruct. Or the people may not buy him."

"Every indication is that he's getting stronger by the hour," said the President. "It may be by default: he's killing the opposition. Am I wrong about that, Paul?"

Hood shook his head. "One of my people was there when he executed factory workers who may-may-have opposed him."

"When did this happen?" Lanning asked, openly horrified.

"Within the hour," Hood told her.

"This man has the makings of a genocidal maniac," she said.

"I don't know about that," said Hood, "but he certainly seems determined to seize Spain."

"And we're determined to stop him," the President said.

"How?" asked Burkow. "We can't do it officially. Paul, Marius-have we got people underground there that we can count on?"

"I'll have to ask our contact in Madrid," Fox said. "That kind of work hasn't been a part of our repertoire for a while."

Burkow looked at Hood. So did the President. Hood said nothing. With Fox effectively out of the front line, he knew what was coming.

"Paul, your Striker team is en route to Spain," the President said, "and Darrell McCaskey is already there. You're also working with an Interpol agent who surrendered to the troops at that factory massacre. What about her, Paul? Can she be counted on?"

"She surrendered to try and get to Amadori," Hood acknowledged. "But we don't know what she'll do if and when she gets to him. Whether she'll reconnoiter or try and neutralize him."

Hood hated himself for using that euphemism. They were talking about assassination-the same thing they'd all deplored when it happened to Martha Mackall. And for exactly the same reason: politics. This was, truly, a dirty, stinking business. He wished that he were with his family instead of here.

"What's this woman's name?" the President asked.

"María Corneja, Mr. President," Hood replied. "We have a file on her. She was attached