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Back Balance of Power
Chapters (53)
  1. BALANCE OF POWER
  2. Acknowledgments
  3. About The Creators
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. THIRTY-ONE
  35. THIRTY-TWO
  36. THIRTY-THREE
  37. THIRTY-FOUR
  38. THIRTY-FIVE
  39. THIRTY-SIX
  40. THIRTY-SEVEN
  41. THIRTY-EIGHT
  42. THIRTY-NINE
  43. FORTY
  44. FORTY-ONE
  45. FORTY-TWO
  46. FORTY-THREE
  47. FORTY-FOUR
  48. FORTY-FIVE
  49. FORTY-SIX
  50. FORTY-SEVEN
  51. FORTY-EIGHT
  52. FORTY-NINE
  53. FIFTY

Norberto nodded as McCaskey turned the first doorknob. The door opened into a dark study. After being out in the bright sun it took a moment for McCaskey's eyes to adjust. When they did he saw a desk at the far end of the chamber. There was a telephone in the near corner.

"That's a break," McCaskey said.

"You go," the priest said. "I'll continue searching for the woman's companion."

"All right," McCaskey said. "I'll join you as soon as I'm finished."

Norberto nodded and went to the next door.

Shutting the door, McCaskey went to the telephone. He lifted up the receiver and swore; there was no dial tone. He'd been afraid of that. Amadori's people must have shut down access to all outside lines. In case any of the prisoners got away they wouldn't be able to get intelligence out of here.

Returning to the corridor, McCaskey moved on to the next room. The door was opened and he looked in. It was a music room. It smelled faintly of smoke and then he noticed the ashes on the floor. This must have been where the fire alarm went off. Father Norberto was in the corner with a prisoner, whom McKaskey assumed was Juan.

"Father-how is he?" McCaskey asked.

Norberto didn't turn around. His shoulders slumping, he just shook his head gravely.

McCaskey turned. The only way he was going to be able to get help was if he found Striker. They could call Interpol and ask for medical assistance. Even if the strike force hadn't succeeded in killing Amadori, the general was going to have to allow medical assistance into the palace. His own people had been injured in the fighting.

McCaskey took a deep breath and started down the corridor.

FORTY-TWO

Tuesday, 12:06 p.m.

Madrid, Spain

The music room of the palace was dark. However, there was enough light coming in from the corridor to allow Father Norberto to see the man slouched in the corner on the floor. He was gravely wounded. There were splashes of blood on him, on his clothes, and on the wall behind him. Fresh blood continued to pour from gashes on his cheek, forehead, and mouth. There were several raw, bloody wounds in his legs and chest.

Father Norberto could literally feel the presence of Death-just as he had when he knelt like this beside his brother. The sensation was always the same, whether Father Norberto was ministering to the terminally ill or holding the hand of someone who had been fatally injured. Death had a sweet, vaguely metallic scent that filled the nostrils and poisoned the stomach. The priest could almost feel Death's touch. It was like a cool, invisible smoke chilling the air and seeping into his flesh, his bones, his soul.