Oblivious to the military assault outside, Yaquita’s rage towered in the cathedral. “I knew it! You can’t toss me aside like a helpless flower, after you’ve had your way with me, Pedrito … or whoever you are!”
Smith tried to talk, backing away toward a small alcove, a stairway and escape—escape from Yaquita as well as from O’Halloran’s attack. He just wanted to get out of this crazy country.
At the altar, the hunchbacked priest tried to look very small and unobtrusive as he continued mumbling the marriage ceremony. He didn’t know what else to do.
Outside, the roar of the oncoming military truck grew louder, wheels clattering on the marble steps as it knocked the big flowerpots aside. The engine backfired, echoing like gunshots, then O’Halloran fired real shots.
Yaquita fumed, wondering
