Sidney Sheldon - The sands of time

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This is a work of fiction. And yet…
The romantic land of flamenco and Don Quixote and exotic-looking señoritas with tortoises hell combs in their hair is also the land of Torquemada, the Spanish Inquisition, and one of the bloodiest civil wars in history. More than half a million people lost their lives in the battles for power between the Republicans and the rebel Nationalists in Spain.
In 1936, between February and June, 269 political murders were committed, and the Nationalists executed Republicans at the rate of a thousand a month, with no mourning permitted. One hundred sixty churches were burned to the ground, and nuns were removed forcibly from convents, "as though," wrote Due de Saint-Simon of an earlier conflict between the Spanish government and the Church, "they were whores in a bawdy house." Newspaper offices were sacked and strikes and riots were endemic throughout the land. The Civil War ended in a victory for the Nationalists under Franco, and following his death, Spain became a monarchy.
The Civil War, which lasted from 1936 to 1939, may be officially over, but the two Spains that fought it have never been reconciled. Today another war continues to rage in Spain, the guerrilla war fought by the Basques to regain the autonomy they had won under the Republic and lost under the Franco regime. The war is being fought with bombs, bank robberies to finance the bombs, assassinations, and riots. When a member of ETA, a Basque guerrilla underground group, died in a Madrid hospital after being tortured by the police, the nationwide riots that followed led to the resignation of the director general of Spain's police force, five security chiefs, and two hundred senior police officers. In 1986, in Barcelona, the Basques publicly burned the
Spanish flag, and in Pamplona thousands fled in fear, when Basque Nationalists clashed with police in a series of mutinies that eventually spread across Spain and threatened the stability of the government. The paramilitary police retaliated by going on a rampage, firing at random at homes and shops of the Basques. The terrorism that goes on is more violent than ever.
This is a work of fiction. And yet…

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Miró might hide anywhere, but the sisters could find sanctuary only in another convent. And it would almost certainly be in a convent of the same order.

Colonel Acoña turned to study the map again. And there it was: Mendavia. There was a convent of the Cistercian order at

Mendavia. That's where they're headed, Acoña thought triumphantly. Well, so am I.

Only I'll be there first, waiting for them.

The journey for Ricardo and Graciela was coming to an end.

The last few days had been the happiest Ricardo had ever known. He was being hunted by the military and the police,

his capture meant certain death, and yet none of that seemed to matter. It was as though he and Graciela had carved out an island in time, a paradise where nothing could touch them.

They had turned their desperate journey into a wonderful adventure that they shared together.

They talked endlessly, exploring and explaining, and their words were tendrils that drew them even closer together. They spoke of the past, the present, and the future. Particularly the future.

"We'll be married in church," Ricardo said. "You'll be the most beautiful bride in the world…"

And Graciela could visualize the scene and was thrilled by it.

"And we'll live in the most beautiful house…"

And she thought: I've never had a house of my own, or a real room of my own.

There was the little casa she had shared with her mother and all the uncles, and then the convent cell, living with the sisters.

"And we'll have handsome sons and beautiful daughters…"

And I will give them all the things I never had. They will be so loved.

And Graciela's heart soared.

But there was one thing troubling her. Ricardo was a soldier fighting for a cause he passionately believed in.

Would he be content living in France, withdrawing from the battle? She knew she had to discuss this with him.

"Ricardo—how much longer do you think this revolution is going to go on?"

It's already gone on too long, Ricardo thought. The government had made peace overtures, but ETA had done worse than reject them. It had responded to the offers with a series of increased terrorist attacks. Ricardo had tried to discuss it with Jaime.

"They're willing to compromise, Jaime. Shouldn't we meet them halfway?"

"Their offer is a trick—they want to destroy us. They're forcing us to go on fighting."

And because Ricardo loved Jaime and believed in him, he continued to support him. But the doubts refused to die. And as the bloodshed increased, so did his uncertainty. And now

Graciela was asking, How much longer do you think this revolution is going to go on?

"I don't know," Ricardo told her. "I wish it were over.

But I will tell you this, my darling. Nothing will ever come between us—not even a war. There will never be words enough to tell you how much I love you." And they went on dreaming.

They traveled during the night, making their way through the fertile, green countryside, past El Burgo and Soria. At dawn, from the top of a hill, they saw Logroño in the far distance. To the left of the road was a stand of pine trees and beyond that a forest of electric-power lines. Graciela and Ricardo followed the winding road down to the outskirts of the bustling city.

"Where are we going to meet the others?" Graciela asked.

Ricardo pointed to a poster on a building they were passing. It read:

CIRQUE JAPON!

THE WORLD'S MOST

SENSATIONAL CIRCUS FRESH FROM JAPAN!

JULY 24TH

FOR ONE WEEK

AVENTOA CLUB DEPORTTVO.

"There," Ricardo told her. "We'll meet them there this afternoon."

In another part of the city, Megan, Jaime, Amparo, and

Felix were also looking at a circus poster. There was a feeling of enormous tension in the group. Amparo was never out of their sight. Ever since the incident at Vitoria, the men treated Amparo as an outcast, ignoring her most of the time and speaking to her only when necessary.

Jaime looked at his watch. "The circus should be starting," he said. "Let's go."

At police headquarters in Logroño, Colonel Ramón Acoña was finalizing his plans.

"Are the men deployed around the convent?"

"Yes, Colonel. Everything is in place."

"Excellent."

Acoña was in an expansive mood. The trap he had set was foolproof, and there would be no bungling policemen to spoil his plans this time. He was personally conducting the operation. The OPUS MUNDO was going to be proud of him. He went over the details with his officers once again.

"The nuns are traveling with Miró and his men. It's important that we catch them before they walk into the convent. We'll be spread out in the woods around it. Don't move until I give the signal to close in."

"What are our orders if Jaime Miró resists?"

Acoña said softly, "I hope he does try to resist."

An orderly came into the room. "Excuse me, Colonel. There is an American here who would like to speak to you."

"I have no time now."

"Yes, sir." The orderly hesitated. "He says it's about one of the nuns."

"Oh? An American, did you say?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"Send him in."

A moment later, Alan Tucker was ushered in.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Colonel. I'm Alan Tucker. I'm hoping you can help me."

"Yes? How, Mr. Tucker?"

"I understand that you're looking for one of the nuns from the Cistercian convent—a Sister Megan."

The colonel sat back in his chair, studying the American.

"How does that concern you?"

"I'm looking for her too. It's very important that I find her."

Interesting, Colonel Acoña thought. Why is it so important for this American to find a nun? "You have no idea where she is?"

"No. The newspapers—"

The goddamn press again. "Perhaps you could tell me why you are looking for her."

"I'm afraid I can't discuss that."

"Then I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Colonel—could you let me know if you find her?"

Acoña gave him a thin smile. "You'll know."

The whole country was following the hegira of the nuns.

The press had reported the narrow escape of Jaime Miró and one of the nuns in Vitoria.

So they're heading north, Alan Tucker thought. Their best bet to get out of the country is probably San Sebastian. I've got to get hold of her. He sensed that he was in trouble with

Ellen Scott. I handled that badly, he thought. I can make up for it by bringing her Megan.

He placed a call to Ellen Scott.

The Cirque Japon was held in a huge tent in an outlying district of Logroño. Ten minutes before the circus was to begin, the tent was filled to capacity. Megan, Jaime, Amparo,

and Felix made their way down the crowded aisle to their reserved seats. There were two empty seats next to Jaime.

He stared at them and said, "Something's wrong. Ricardo and Sister Graciela were supposed to be here." He turned to

Amparo. "Did you—?"

"No. I swear it. I know nothing about it."

The lights dimmed and the show began. There was a roar from the crowd, and they turned to look at the arena. A bicycle rider was circling the ring, and as he pedaled an acrobat leaped onto his shoulder. Then, one by one, a swarm of other performers jumped on, clinging to the front and back and sides of the bicycle until it was invisible. The audience cheered.

A trained-bear act was next, and then a tightrope walker.

The audience was enjoying the show tremendously, but Jaime and the others were too nervous to pay any attention. Time was running out.

"We'll wait another fifteen minutes," Jaime decided. "If they're not here by then—"

A voice said, "Excuse me—are these seats taken?"

Jaime looked up to see Ricardo and Graciela, and grinned.

"No. Please sit down." And then, in a relieved whisper, "I'm damned glad to see you."

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