The Sands of Time (29 page)

“You’re surrounded,” he called out. “You haven’t got a chance. Come out with your hands up. One at a time. If you try to resist, you’ll all die.”

There was a long moment of silence, and then the van door slowly opened and three men and three women emerged, trembling, their hands raised high above their heads.

They were strangers.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-SIX

H
igh on a hill above the convent, Jaime and the others observed Acoca and his men move in on the van. They saw the terrified passengers get out, hands raised, and watched the scene played out in pantomime.

Jaime could almost hear the dialogue:

Who are you?

We work at a hotel outside Logroño.

What are you doing here?

A man gave us five thousand pesetas to deliver this van to the convent.

What man?

I don’t know. I never saw him before.

Is this his picture?

Yes. That’s him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jaime said.

They were in a white station wagon, heading back to Logroño. Megan was looking at Jaime in wonder.

“How did you know?”

“That Colonel Acoca would be waiting for us at the convent? He told me.”

“What?”

“The fox has to think like the hunter, Megan. I put myself in Acoca’s place. Where would he set a trap for me? He did exactly what I would have done.”

“And if he had not shown up?”

“Then it would have been safe to take you into the convent.”

“What happens now?” Felix asked.

It was the question uppermost in all their minds.

“Spain isn’t safe for any of us for a while,” Jaime decided. “We’ll head directly for San Sebastián and into France.” He looked at Megan. “There are Cistercian convents there.”

It was more than Amparo could bear.

“Why don’t you give yourself up? If you keep on this way, there will be more blood spilled and more lives taken—”

“You’ve lost the right to speak,” Jaime said curtly. “Just be grateful you’re still alive.” He turned to Megan. “There are ten mountain passes across the Pyrenees leading from San Sebastian to France. We’ll cross there.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Felix objected. “Acoca’s going to be looking for us in San Sebastian. He’ll be expecting us to cross the border into France.”

“If it’s that dangerous—” Graciela began.

“Don’t worry,” Jaime assured her. “San Sebastian is Basque country.”

The station wagon was approaching the outskirts of Logroño again.

“All the roads to San Sebastian will be watched,” Felix warned. “How do you plan for us to get there?”

Jaime had already decided. “We’ll take the train.”

“The soldiers will be searching the trains,” Ricardo objected.

Jaime gave Amparo a thoughtful look. “No. I don’t think so. Our friend here is going to help us. Do you know how to reach Colonel Acoca?”

She hesitated. “Yes.”

“Good. You’re going to call him.”

They stopped at one of the telephone booths along the highway. Jaime followed Amparo into the booth and closed the door. He was holding a pistol to her side.

“You know what to say?”

“Yes.”

He watched her dial a number, and when a voice answered, she said, “This is Amparo Jirón. Colonel Acoca is expecting my call…Thank you.” She looked up at Jaime. “They’re putting me through.” The gun was pressing against her. “Do you have to—?”

“Just do as you were told.” His voice was ice.

A moment later, Jaime heard Acoca’s voice come over the phone. “Where are you?”

The gun pressed against her harder. “I—I’m—we’re just leaving Logroño.”

“Do you know where our friends are going?”

“Yes.”

Jaime’s face was inches from hers, his eyes hard.

“They’ve decided to reverse themselves to throw you off. They’re on their way to Barcelona. He’s driving a white Seat. He’ll be taking the main highway.”

Jaime nodded at her.

“I—I have to go now. The car is here.”

Jaime pressed down the receiver. “Very good. Let’s go. We’ll give him half an hour to call off his men here.”

Thirty minutes later they were at the railroad station.

There were three classes of trains from Logroño to San Sebastian: The TALGO was the luxury train; the second-class train was the TER; and the worst and cheapest trains, uncomfortable and dirty, were misnamed the
expresos
—they stopped at every little station from Logroño to San Sebastian.

Jaime said, “We’ll take the
expreso.
By now all of Acoca’s men will be busy stopping every white Seat on the road to Barcelona. We’ll buy our tickets separately and meet in the last car of the train.” Jaime turned to Amparo. “You go first. I’ll be right behind you.”

She knew why, and hated him for it. If Colonel Acoca had set a trap, she would be the bait. Well, she was Amparo Jirón. She would not flinch.

She walked into the station while Jaime and the others watched. There were no soldiers.

They’re all out covering the highway to Barcelona. It’s going to be a madhouse,
Jaime thought wryly.
Every other car is a white Seat

One by one the group purchased their tickets and headed for the train. They boarded without incident. Jaime took the seat next to Megan. Amparo sat in front of them, next to Felix. Across the way Ricardo and Graciela sat together.

Jaime said to Megan, “We’ll reach San Sebastián in three hours. We’ll spend the night there and in the early morning we’ll cross over into France.”

“And after we get to France?”

She was thinking of what would happen to Jaime, but when he replied, he said, “Don’t worry. There’s a Cistercian convent just a few hours across the border.” He hesitated. “If that’s what you still want.”

So he had understood her doubts.
Is that what I want?
They were coming to more than a border that divided two countries. This border would divide her old life from her future life…which would be…what? She had been desperate to return to a convent, but now she was filled with doubts. She had forgotten how exciting the world outside the walls could be.
I’ve never felt so alive.
Megan looked over at Jaime and admitted to herself:
And Jaime Miró is a part of it

He caught her glance and looked into her eyes, and Megan thought:
He knows it.

The
expreso
stopped at every hamlet and village along the track. The train was packed with farmers and their wives, merchants and salesmen, and at each stop passengers noisily embarked and disembarked.

The
expreso
made its way slowly through the mountains, fighting the steep grades.

When the train finally pulled into the station in San Sebastian, Jaime said to Megan, “The danger is over. This is our city. I’ve arranged for a car to be here for us.”

A large sedan was waiting in front of the station. A driver wearing a
chapella,
the big, wide-brimmed beret of the Basques, greeted Jaime with warm hugs, and the group got into the car.

Megan noticed that Jaime stayed close to Amparo, ready to grab her if she tried to make a move.
What’s he going to do to her?
Megan wondered.

“We were worried about you, Jaime,” the driver said. “According to the press, Colonel Acoca is conducting a big hunt for you.”

Jaime laughed. “Let him keep hunting, Gil. I am out of season.”

They drove down the Avenida Sancho el Savio, toward the beach. It was a cloudless summer day and the streets were crowded with strolling couples bent on pleasure. The harbor was awash with yachts and smaller craft. The distant mountains formed a picturesque backdrop for the city. Everything seemed so peaceful.

“What are the arrangements?” Jaime asked the driver.

“The Hotel Niza. Largo Cortez is waiting for you.”

“It will be good to see the old pirate again.”

The Niza was a medium-class hotel in the Plaza Juan de Olezabal, off the Calle de San Martin on the corner of a busy square. It was a white building with brown shutters and a big blue sign at the top. The rear of the hotel backed onto a beach.

When the car pulled up in front of the hotel, the group got out and followed Jaime into the lobby.

Largo Cortez, the hotel owner, ran up to greet them. He was a large man. He had only one arm as the result of a daring exploit, and he moved awkwardly, as though off-balance.

“Welcome,” he said, beaming. “I have been expecting you for a week now.”

Jaime shrugged. “We had a few delays,
amigo.
”

Largo Cortez grinned. “I read about them. The papers are full of nothing else.” He turned to look at Megan and Graciela. “Everyone is rooting for you, Sisters. I have your rooms all prepared.”

“We’ll be staying overnight,” Jaime told him. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning and cross into France. I want a good guide who knows all the passes—either Cabrera Infante or José Cebrián.”

“I will arrange it,” the hotel owner assured him. “There will be six of you?”

Jaime glanced at Amparo. “Five.”

Amparo looked away.

“I suggest that none of you registers,” Cortez said. “What the police don’t know won’t hurt them. Why don’t you let me take you to your rooms, where you can refresh yourselves? Then we’ll have a magnificent supper.”

“Amparo and I are going to the bar to have a drink,” Jaime said. “We’ll join you later.”

Largo Cortez nodded. “As you wish, Jaime.”

Megan was watching Jaime, puzzled. She wondered what he planned to do with Amparo.
Is he going to cold-bloodedly
—
?
She could not bear even to think about it.

Amparo was wondering too, but she was too proud to ask.

Jaime led her into the bar at the far end of the lobby and took a table in the corner.

When the waiter approached them, Jaime said, “A glass of wine,
por favor.”

“One?”

“One.”

Amparo watched as Jaime took out a small packet and opened it. It contained a fine, powdery substance.

“Jaime—” There was desperation in Amparo’s voice. “Please listen to me! Try to understand why I did what I did. You’re tearing the country apart. Your cause is hopeless. You must stop this insanity.”

The waiter reappeared and set a glass of wine on the table. When he walked away, Jaime carefully poured the contents of the packet into the glass and stirred it. He pushed the glass in front of Amparo.

“Drink it.”

“No!”

“Not many of us are privileged to choose the way we die,” Jaime said quietly. “This way will be quick and painless. If I turn you over to my people, I can’t make any such promise.”

“Jaime—I loved you once. You must believe me. Please—”

“Drink it.” His voice was implacable.

Amparo looked at him for a long moment, then picked up the glass. “I’ll drink to your death.”

He watched as Amparo put the glass to her lips and swallowed the wine in one gulp.

She shuddered. “What happens now?”

“I’ll help you upstairs. I’ll put you to bed. You’ll sleep.”

Amparo’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re a fool,” she whispered. “Jaime—I’m dying, and I tell you that I loved you so—” Her words were beginning to slur.

Jaime rose and helped Amparo to her feet. She stood up, unsteady. The room seemed to be rocking.

“Jaime—”

He guided her out the door and into the lobby, holding her up. Largo Cortez was waiting for him with a key.

“I’ll take her to her room,” Jaime said. “See that she’s not disturbed.”

“Right.”

Cortez watched as Jaime half-carried Amparo up the stairs.

In her room, Megan was thinking how strange it felt to be by herself in a hotel in a resort town. San Sebastian was filled with people on vacation, honeymooners, lovers enjoying themselves in a hundred other hotel rooms. And suddenly Megan wished Jaime were there with her, and wondered what it would be like to have him make love to her. All the feelings that she had been suppressing for so long came flooding into her mind in a wild torrent of emotions.

But what did Jaime do to Amparo? Could he possibly have…but no, he could never have done that. Or could he? I want him,
she thought.
Oh, Lord, what’s happening to me? What can I do?

Ricardo was whistling as he dressed. He was in a wonderful mood.
I’m the luckiest man in the world,
he thought.
We’ll be married in France. There’s a beautiful church across the border in Bayonne. Tomorrow…

In her room, Graciela was taking a bath, luxuriating in the warm water, thinking of Ricardo. She smiled to herself and thought:
I’m going to make him so happy. Thank You, God.

Felix Carpio was thinking about Jaime and Megan.
A blind man can see the electricity between them,
he thought.
It is going to bring bad luck. Nuns belong to God. It’s bad enough that Ricardo has taken Sister Graciela from her calling.
But Jaime had always been reckless. What was he going to do about this one?

The five of them met for supper in the hotel dining room. No one mentioned Amparo.

Looking at Jaime, Megan felt suddenly embarrassed, as though he could read her mind.

It’s better not to ask questions,
she decided.
I know he could never do anything brutal

They found that Largo Cortez had not exaggerated about the supper. The meal began with gazpacho—the thick cold soup made from tomatoes, cucumbers, and water-soaked bread—followed by a salad of fresh greens, a huge dish of paella—rice, shrimp, chicken, and vegetables in a wonderful sauce—and ended with a delicious flan. It was the first hot meal Ricardo and Graciela had had in a long time.

When the meal was over, Megan rose. “I should be getting to bed.”

“Wait,” Jaime said. “I have to talk to you.” He escorted her to a deserted corner of the lobby. “About tomorrow…”

“Yes?”

And she knew what he was going to ask. What she did not know was what she was going to answer.
I’ve changed,
Megan thought.
I was so sure about my life before. I believed I had everything I wanted