"I don't believe in luck," María said. She used her free hand to push aside his arms. "I believe in the lousiness of people. And so far I've never been disappointed. Amadori may execute his prisoners just to keep them from talking about what he's been doing-"

María stopped. She glanced past McCaskey. As she did, her eyes widened.

"What is it?" McCaskey asked, turning around.

"I know that man," she said.

McCaskey gazed into the courtyard. The priest was hurrying toward them. He slowed as he neared. He obviously recognized her as well.

"María," the priest said as he reached the arch.

"Father Norberto," she replied. "What are you doing here?"

"It was strange fortune brought me," he said. He squatted and touched her head comfortingly. Then he looked at her wound. "My poor girl."

"I'll live," she said.

"You've lost a lot of blood," Norberto said.

He glanced at Luis. "So has this man. Has a doctor been summoned?"

"I'm going now," McCaskey said.

"No!" María shouted.

"It's all right," Norberto said, "I'll stay with you."

"It isn't that," María said. "There's a prisoner-he must be helped!"

"Where?" Norberto asked.

"He's in a room over there," she said. She pointed toward the doorway along the palace wall. "I'm afraid they'll kill him."

Norberto took her hand. He patted it as he rose. "I will go to him, María," he said. "You stay here and try not to move."

María looked from the priest to McCaskey. The concern McCaskey had seen in the woman's eyes was gone, replaced by contempt. His heart shattered, McCaskey left without a word. He was followed closely by Father Norberto.

The men entered the doorway together, McCaskey going in first. He'd left the gun with María in case the soldiers had a change of heart. He hoped he wouldn't need it here. The gunfire was louder, of course. But it was still far enough away so that McCaskey didn't think they'd get caught in a firefight. He looked at the old wooden cross hanging on the priest's chest. McCaskey's tired eyes lingered for a moment as he asked God to help his comrades who might be in the middle of the fighting.

There were eight doors along the short corridor. They were all shut. McCaskey stopped and turned to the priest.

Speaking in a very low whisper, he asked, "Do you speak English?"

"Some," Norberto replied.

"Okay," McCaskey said. "I'm not going to leave you alone."

"I'm never alone," Father Norberto replied, gently touching the cross.

"I know that. I mean-unprotected."

"But the wounded ones-"

"There may be a telephone in one of these rooms," McCaskey told him. "If there is, I'll make the call and stay with you. We'll find María's friend and take him out together."