Eva quickly wiped her tears and changed from her elegant dance attire, the final strains of Carlos’ music still ringing in her ears. She rushed at Terry’s side to his car, unsure of how she could help and silent as he drove from SoHo to Manhattan. As usual, her lover read her thoughts.

“Simple, love. We know what we know, can do the research and Zack’s preparing a bit of a bloody history lesson for us all, we’ve got as many facts as we can get our hands on, but you are Basque, darlin’. Some things only you can help us with.”

“How can you be so sure the ETA has Carlos? It is not out of the norm for kidnappers to say they are ETA just to stir things up, Terry.” She climbed from the car and followed him to the elevator that swept them up to his offices.

“We thought of that; have already begun checking the obvious. We’ve considered the possibility that there’s been no kidnapping at all. That it could just be a resourceful prankster who knows your connection with me and hopes to make a fortune. Someone who knows Carlos is out doing his thing and no one can reach him. Perhaps even knows where your brother is. Bloody hell. I have told Carlos myself to never, ever travel without lettin’ someone know where he’s fuckin’ heading.” Terry huffed, calmed then turned a gaze at Eva just before the doors whooshed open. “Love, have ya heard from him?”

Her head shook and again she felt her knees weaken. Not this time, she had to be strong. It was vital to the case, possibly vital to her brother’s survival. 

She’d never been to Terry’s offices when things were so intense. Sunday and one would expect peace and quiet, but with a mere phone call, the place was buzzing like a hive. Terry had called in the troops and they arrived in droves. Secretaries bustled around in denim shorts and tank tops, obviously there directly from a casual summer afternoon. No one complained and all eyes showed concern and sadness for Eva. Her terror grew.

In the conference room, Zack Grant was sweeping a hand through his hair and compiling stacks of papers, rearranging them then laying them out on the table in a strange display, a three pile pyramid that repeatedly altered then restructured. He glanced up, winked but none of his pleasant personality showed. Eva had never seen such weight in the man. She had never seen any of them in this particular scenario. This was all for Carlos, all for her. She was humbled and even more afraid.

She sat next to Terry in silence. Dino swept in and kissed the top of her head before settling in. Roger Hammond, former CIA and Tim Spendle, communications expert, also joined them. The door was closed and all eyes fell on Zack. He cleared his throat and looked directly at Eva.

“Hon, sorry about all this. Usually we don’t involve family at this stage of the game, but your knowledge of Basque politics just might cut days from our usual research load.”

Eva nodded and Terry squeezed her hand.

Dino piped in. “Before we get started, Terry, I wanted you to know Goshim’s already in San Sebastian, dealing with the police at the Menendez house. He’s called in Kenny Friday to assist. Good for you?”

Terry’s eyes glittered and he grinned. “Are they on loan from Hollingsworth?” Hollingsworth had become Thorn & O’Leary’s biggest competitor in the Western European territories. Goshim started negotiations with Dino months earlier to jump ship and become a T&O operative. Friday was on the fence about even talking to Dino.

“No loaner. I called, Goshim leaped over the wall and his dog Friday came with him. This could cost us down the road, but that kind of expertise so quickly in the region is a godsend. Zack, let’s get started, buddy.”

Now both Eva’s hands were squeezed, one by her lover and fiancé, the other by his partner. There were no two men on the planet more suited to find and rescue Carlos … and no two men on the planet more suited to comfort her. She settled her straining heart and mind to pay close attention.

“Well,” Zack began, shifting his paper pyramid formation on the polished table top. “The area around the Basque Country has been in flux and turmoil since the 1800’s. The worst of it began in 1937 when the Basque army surrendered in Santona to the Italian allies of General Franco.”

“The Treason of Santona,” interrupted Terry and Grant nodded.

“TMI? I can move ahead.”

“No, keep going, mate. Eva,” Terry again squeezed her hand gently, “I want you to interrupt at any time. If you can add anything at all, just speak up.”

Zack continued. “Altighty then. In 1959, young Nationalists founded the separatists group, the ETA. Since then, they’ve been influenced by the likes of Marx, Castro and Ho Chi Minh. Hairy group, these dudes, and they are terrorists in every sense of the word, fighting for their version of the Basque Nation at all costs.” He lifted another sheet of paper.

“We have Spanish Basques, French Basques, hell there are Catalan Basques and all of this is affected by what the ETA can gain through violence in the name of independence.” He looked to Eva. “San Sebastian is what?”

“Twenty kilometers from the French border, Northern Basque Country. We have faced far less violence,” Eva stated, feeling grateful to offer something.

“Untrue,” Zack spoke calmly. “You’ve been traveling a lot over the past twenty years, sweetheart. San Sebastian is now a Mecca for tourism, and the ETA likes to disrupt such advantages gained by the Spanish government. You’re correct on one count, Eva. Kidnapping isn’t common in the north at all. But, it does happen. And everything is escalating.

“Technically the ETA is supposed to be in the throws of a goodwill cease fire. Let’s see how that’s working for them.” He lifted another document. “Between 1961 and 2000, one … six … ten … seventeen acts of violence credited to the ETA. Seven between May and September of 2001 assassinations and bombings, a few kidnappings, mostly in Madrid. In 2002, kidnapping again got real popular, with several businessmen and politicians taken for ransom. My guess; the movement needed money. From January of ‘03 to present, a recorded seventy-two acts of terrorism; an even sprinkling of kidnappings along with everything else. These guys mean business and no matter how much popular or world governmental opposition they get, they just keep getting stronger.

“Intelligence confirms ETA members hiding in France, Portugal, Belfast … all over Europe, the Middle East, Africa and here in the good old U. S. of A. Activity is being directed from around the freaking world via the internet, twitter, disposable cell phones, you name it.”

Zack collected his documents, tapped them into a neat stack and gathered another stack. Eva was shocked. Looking around her, no one at the table was the least surprised. Every one of them knew more about her own country than she did. And what they knew was devastating.

“Okay, on to the issue at hand.” Zack passed photos to the attendees. “This is Robert Garra Rubina, a man with so many A.K.A.s I’d run out of paper printing the list out. He’s a member of the Herri Batasuna … the HB, sort of Basque Sinn Fein that supports the armed actions of ETA … lately it’s showing up as the Euskal Herritarrok, the EH, like we need more names connected to this prick.  Rubina is –”

“No!” Eva gasped, staring at the photo. “You are wrong. This is Luc Ramirez. I know this man.”

All eyes trained on her and she stood. “I know Luc all my life. He is Carlos’ dearest friend since boyhood. He is no terrorist.” She almost chuckled, remembering the pranks and freewheeling fun the two young men had, the favors and secrets shared, the life … but the men around her were serious. Zack clacked on a keyboard and finally slid the laptop for her and Terry to see.

“One of Robert Garra Rubina’s A.K.A.’s … Luc Rameriez.”

“How is this possible? There must be a mistake,” Eva coked.

Terry rubbed his eyes and nodded for Zack to continue. “Eva, honey, sweetie … um … there’s no question of this man’s identity. And … it’s more complicated than any of us thought. See … Rubina has contacted us to negotiate ransom for Carlos’ release. He’s announced ETA responsibility and he’s demanding four and a half million American dollars.”

Someone held her shoulder. Someone else brought her a glass of water. When Eva Menendez could finally speak, the only words to come from her mouth she immediately regretted, as they not only convicted Luc, but implicated Carlos. She spoke quietly but they all heard.

“Four point five million American dollars … is the exact value of my family home in San Sebastian. The exact amount. There was a private assessment made only last week.”

“By who?” three male voices asked.