"Sir, what brings you to the fortress this time of night?"

"Colonel Antonio Yarayo. I was sent by the Ministry of State Security with this team to interrogate one of the prisoners. A new investigation has turned up a suspected United States spy operation. We believe they have information which could prove useful."

"Pardon me, sir, but I must ask you for the proper papers."

"As a good soldier, Sergeant," said Seng officiously, "well you should." He handed the guard an envelope. "Why aren't there more guards on duty?"

"There is one other who watches the prisoners' cells."

"Hmm. Well, I see no reason to stand out here all night. Take me to your office quarters."

The guard immediately ushered them into a barren office that contained only a desk and two chairs. A photo of Castro, taken when he was a young man, hung alone on one wall.

"Who is the officer in command here?" asked Seng.

"Captain Juan Lopez."

"Where is he?"

"He has a girlfriend with a house in the city. He will be back at nine o'clock tomorrow."

"How very convenient," Seng said as if bored. "What is your name?"

"Lieutenant Gabriel Sanchez, sir."

"And the name of the other guard on duty in the cells?"

"Sergeant Ignez Macco."

"Please check the documents so we can get on with it."

The guard sat down at the desk and pulled some paper out of the envelope. Seng moved behind and removed a small gun from his pocket as Sanchez stared blankly at a pair of comic books. He looked up. "Colonel, I don't under--"

That was as far as he got before Seng shot a tiny dart filled with a tranquilizer into the nape of his neck. Sanchez looked at Seng oddly before slumping unconscious over the table.

Seng threw a roll of duct tape to one of his team. Every move was so well rehearsed that he did not have to give orders. Two men took the tape, bound the unconscious guard, searched his pockets--finding an unusual round key--and then stuffed him in a closet. Another man went to work carefully rendering the security alarms and communications equipment inoperable.

As they rushed through the passageways and tunnels and down stone steps to the cells below, Seng knew where he was within a foot, thanks to the holographic image of the fortress that he had committed to memory.

There was no desperate hurry, but they could not afford to throw away time. He could see now why only a few men guarded the entire facility. The walls were massively thick, and there was only one entrance in and out of the dungeon cells far below street level. The only way a prisoner could escape was the way the team from the Oregon had come--from the outside. A string of lightbulbs lit the passageway. The ceiling was very high, but the space between the walls was very narrow. The steps finally ended at an enormous steel door with the thickness of a bank vault. A TV camera stared ominously at Seng and his men. This was the tricky part, he thought, as he inserted the odd-looking key into the steel lock. Seng prayed that the key would do the job without a code being demanded.