The news media were in a feeding frenzy. The head-lines tumbled over one another. There was the attack on the convent, the wholesale arrest of the nuns for sheltering terrorists, the escape of four nuns, the shooting of five soldiers by one of the nuns before she was shot and killed.
The international news wires were on fire.
Reporters had arrived in Madrid from all over the world,
and Prime Minister Leopoldo Martinez, in an effort to cool things down, had agreed to a press conference. Almost four dozen reporters from all over the world were gathered in his office. Colonels Ramón Acoña and Fal Sostelo were at his side. The prime minister had seen that afternoon's headline in the London Times:
TERRORISTS AND NUNS EVADE SPAIN'S ARMY AND POLICE.
A reporter from Paris Match was asking, "Mr. Prime
Minister, do you have any idea where the missing nuns are now?"
Prime Minister Martinez replied, "Colonel Acoña is in charge of the search operation. I will let him answer that."
Acoña said, "We have reason to believe that they are in the hands of the Basque terrorists. I'm also sorry to say there is evidence to indicate that the nuns are collaborating with the terrorists."
The reporters were scribbling feverishly.
"What about the shooting of Sister Teresa and the soldiers?"
"We have information that Sister Teresa was working with
Jaime Miró. Under the pretext of helping us find Miró, she went into an army camp and shot five soldiers before she could be stopped. I can assure you that the army and the GOE are bending every effort to bring the criminals to justice."
"And the nuns who were arrested and taken to Madrid?"
"They are being interrogated," Acoña said.
The prime minister was anxious to end the meeting. It was difficult for him to keep his temper in check. The failure to locate the nuns or capture the terrorists made his government—and himself—look inept and foolish, and the press was taking full advantage of the situation.
"Can you tell us anything about the backgrounds of the four nuns who escaped, Prime Minister?" asked a reporter from
Oggi.
"I'm sorry. I can give you no further information. I repeat, ladies and gentlemen, the government is doing everything in its power to find the nuns."
"Prime Minister, there have been reports about the brutality of the attack on the convent at Ávila. Would you respond to that?"
It was a sore point with Martinez because it was true.
Colonel Acoña had grossly exceeded his authority. But he would deal with the colonel later. This was the time for a show of unity.
He turned to the colonel and said smoothly, "Colonel Acoña can respond to that."
Acoña said, "I too have heard those unfounded reports. The facts are simple. We received reliable information that the terrorist Jaime Miró and a dozen of his men were hiding in the Cistercian convent and that they were heavily armed. By the time we raided the convent, they had fled."
"Colonel, we heard that some of your men molested—"
"That is an outrageous accusation."
Prime Minister Martinez said, "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. That will be all. You will be informed of any further developments."
When the reporters had left, the prime minister turned to
Colonels Acoña and Sostelo. "They're making us look like savages in the eyes of the world."
Acoña had not the slightest interest in the prime minister's opinion. What concerned him was a telephone call he had received in the middle of the night.
"Colonel Acoña?"
It was a voice he was all too familiar with. He was instantly wide awake.
"Yes, sir."
"We're disappointed in you. We had hoped to see some results before this."
"Sir, I'm closing in on them." He found that he was perspiring heavily. "I ask that you be a little more patient.
I won't disappoint you." He held his breath, waiting for a response.
"You're running out of time."
The line went dead.
Colonel Acoña replaced the receiver and sat there,
frustrated. Where is that bastard Miró?