Ibaibarriaga cast an incredulous glance at Pazos’s lifeless body. A guttural wail of grief rose from deep in his throat.
“Where’s the money?” Roberto said.
“In my room, under the bed,” Ibaibarriaga whimpered. His eyes were growing dim.
“I’m going to get it.”
“Roberto, wait!” Antía grabbed his arm, but before she could say any more, a shrill beeping struck up. They both looked over at Ibaibarriaga, who was struggling to unzip his jacket.
“What’s that?”
“It’s the security cameras at the front gate. They’ve picked up some movement. Someone’s coming.” He held out a device reminiscent ofa large cell phone. A black-and-white image showed a large group of people surging through the front gates at that very moment.
“Thank goodness,” sighed Roberto. “Just in time.”
Antía looked over his shoulder and gasped in surprise. “No way!”
“There you have it.” Roberto gave a relieved smile. “The Docampos and Freires side by side. The Colombians didn’t see this coming.”
“Helena and Tristán,” Antía said. “They’re here for them.”
“The families might not be the best of friends,” Roberto said, “but there’s one thing they hate even more: an outsider who’s dumb enough to make a common enemy of himself. They’re actually very closely knit. And right now, they seem pretty pissed.”
“You knew this was going to happen!” Antía marveled. “This was part of your plan!”
“It wasn’t so hard to foresee.” Roberto shrugged. “I’ve seen it plenty of times in rural societies: They have their differences, but when the chips are down, they pull together. Ons isn’t so different from the rest of the world, after all.”
“So what next?”
“You stay with Ibaibarriaga,” he said, hobbling toward the front door. “And when I give you the word, tell Diego to bring the money out to me.”
“What are you going to do?”
Roberto smiled at her, as it struck him this might be the last time he ever set eyes on her. But he kept that to himself.
“I’m going to talk movies with Osvaldo,” he said. “I hope he’s into cinema.”
And without another word, he turned and went down the hallway.
49
What Things Are Worth
Osvaldo was pleased to hear a key turning in the lighthouse door. His call was being answered. At the same time, gripping the battery in his hand, he felt a touch of regret. A part of him would also have loved to blow the door ... Maybe he’d do so anyway, he said to himself, when he’d dealt with this part.
Just then, however, there came a cry from an agitated Python.
“Chief! Look! It’s all those farmers—they’re back, and they’ve got their guns.”
Osvaldo turned to look, eyes blazing. Pouring through the main gates at the entrance to the lighthouse grounds was a group of the islanders. Grim-faced, Freires and Docampos advanced side by side.
“Hold them off!” he shouted. “And don’t let Carlito take his gun off the lovebirds for one second! If anyone makes a false move, tell him to take them out!”
“Sure thing.” Python patted the MP 40. “I can stop them by myself with this baby!”
Nonetheless, they were trapped between the lighthouse and the angry islanders, with no apparent way out.
Osvaldo rubbed his temples. The islanders had quickly found cover. Two of them, Ramón Docampo and Rosalía Freire, holding out white handkerchiefs, moved forward cautiously, looking to parlay.
