Emanuel had offered only the briefest explanation of handmade explosives before he and some of the others left on a night mission.
Though she knew she should sleep, Sophie found it hard to rest amongst a half-dozen men of various ages; plus it was difficult getting used to the strange place and hard-packed ground. She was thankful to have Walt and Philip by her side. One of them—if not both—never strayed more than a few feet away.
Sometime in the night Sophie heard noises from outside, and the men around her stirred. The man closest to the door lit a lamp.
Salvador, who stood far taller than the others, hunched over in order to enter the cave without hitting his head. A smile brightened his wrinkled face as he entered. "Formidable!"
The one word told Sophie his mission must have been a success.
The men following Salvador hauled in sacks filled with food. One man also carried an armful of rifles.
Though it was the middle of the night, the excited voices of the men filled the air as supplies were handed out.
Sophie scooted back and leaned against the wall, taking it all in.
Emanuel caught her gaze. He came over and sat beside her and handed her a tin of sardines. "We are our own army of sorts, but our work is important." He pulled a bottle of whiskey from the inside pocket of his coat, took a swig, then offered it to her.
"No, thanks." Sophie glanced around at the others. She chuckled as one man lifted another and twirled with joy over the supplies. "I'm waiting for them to sing."
Emanuel nodded. "We get some food from the army, but little else. We must purchase our own supplies and more food. Or steal it when that is our only choice. It has been many weeks since we've been so successful. Franco's armies won't know what hit them."
One man stood off from the rest, holding what looked like maps. With eagerness, he lit another lamp and unrolled one. Others watched him respectfully but did not interrupt.
"That is Domingo," Emanuel commented. "He studies the positions held by both sides. Watch. His most prized possessions are his colored pencils. He marks the positions held by the Nationalist Rebels in one color and the Republicans in another."
Even from where she sat, Sophie could tell the Rebels held far more territory. "What about the areas with no color?"
"Those are forest and mountains. They are held by no one." Emanuel spread an arm, as if motioning to the hills outside the cave. "Or so they think. They have no idea what these mountains hold."
Guilt seeped through Sophie's conscience as she thought about what else the mountains held. In the nearby cave was more gold than this part of the country had probably ever seen. She bit her lip and glanced around . . . knowing how much just one box could help fund these people's efforts. To buy them food. To give them enough supplies to make their work successful.
She glanced at Philip and noticed he was listening to their conversation. As if reading her thoughts, he ever so slightly shook his head.
She turned her attention back to Domingo and his maps. "So, if you know where the enemy is, why do you wait?"
Emanuel glanced up at her with a look of pity on his face. "Señorita, knowing the right timing is just as important as the act itself. We must use our supplies well, which means timing them to achieve the greatest damage."
Sophie wondered if he meant damage to machines or men. She had a feeling it was both. "I see."
"I see, too," Emanuel said, studying her face.
"I mean, I understand."
"Sí, that is what I mean. I see anxiety on your face, and I understand you have many worries. Perhaps you cannot be of help as we first thought."
"You doubt I can help your cause?" She brushed her hair back from her face and sat straighter, trying not to be offended by his tone.
"No, it is simply that you worry about much. And if you are to be effective behind the lines, there is only one thing to worry about. Do you know what that is?"
"My task. Whatever that is."
"Sí, that is correct."
"I think I can do that."
"Can you? We will see. Because from what I hear you will be with us for at least a few weeks." He swept his arm around the cave. "So I have a task for you. I discussed it with Walt this evening."
"If Walt is in agreement, as you say he is, I will do what you ask." She held his gaze until she was sure he believed her words. "Although, if I tried to put together a detonator, that would be the end of me."
The man laughed. It was a loud, boisterous laugh that she hadn't expected.
"No, do not worry. Our plans are far different than that."
Emanuel glanced at Philip, who nodded and smiled. Sophie realized he was in on this, too. No wonder he hadn't said anything.
"Señorita," Emanuel said with a sigh. "The next part of the lesson is timing. As I have said, it is just as important as the act itself. But even more important is having the right man for the right job. Or in this case, the right woman."
"So, you have a job specifically designed for me?"
"Sí, that I do. It is an inside job, and one that is very dangerous. But do not worry. We will have someone watching over you."
A chill settled over Sophie as she remembered Bilbao. The scenario sounded familiar. A man had watched over her then, and she didn't realize until later that it had been her dear friend Luis. Not only had he watched for her, he had died protecting her.
She also knew having a guardian meant she needed one. Sophie crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to hide their trembling. She offered a weak smile. "I know what this means. I've been asked to do such a thing before. And I have a feeling I should have volunteered to set bombs. I have a strange notion it's safer."
"Sí, I suppose so, but do you see those maps? The problem with them is that the information is old. We wait to act until we get a confirmation. But by the time our data is confirmed, the situation has changed. We need you to go on the inside . . . someplace to watch and report."
Sophie noticed he didn't use the word spy. She pressed her hand to her forehead. It made no sense. She thought their plans were to get the gold out of the country. Why had things changed?
"We have someone on the inside . . . although he appears to be a Fascist supporter, he works for us. His position is too critical. We need someone to smuggle out information for us to look at and then smuggle it back in again the next morning before it is missed. Our friend cannot make the deliveries himself, but he will help you. We already have a story for your presence."
"Walt agrees?" she asked.
"Walt agrees as long as we promise to take care of you . . . and only if your help is vital to our cause. I assured him of both."
"Where is he now?"
"He is outside, talking with some of the others. We have a man who is familiar with the castle at Granada—Alhambra."
"Just as long as you don't ask me to be anyone's girlfriend. I . . . I'm tired of having to spread out my affections—be it real or pretend."
"Do not worry, Señorita. We will not ask anything of your heart—just your mind . . . and your acting abilities."
"Let me guess. Should I get used to being called Eleanor?"
For the next hour Emanuel told Sophie and Philip about the rugged hill on which the Alhambra was built, especially about the subterranean passages leading from the fortress to various parts of the city.
Walt joined them, yawning widely but eager to join their talk. "More than once the tunnels carried royal damsels beyond the walls of Granada, where the cavaliers waited to bear the whole party over the borders," he said.
"It sounds like something out of a storybook," Sophie commented. "Will I have to sneak in?"
"Nothing of the sort. You are arriving as the niece of one of the most honored men in the city. Tomas, or rather, Uncle Tomas, lives within the Alhambra on the top of the hill. He is one of us, but we set him up there from the beginning of the war. No one questions his loyalty to Franco, which is exactly how we want to keep it. Within these various tunnels and passages of the fortress, it should be easy for you to get information to us."
"If they know the tunnels are there, why don't they watch them more closely?"
Emanuel cocked one eyebrow. "Walt mentioned the . . . damsels who used the tunnels. . . . When first constructed, the tunnels were used as passageways for the rich men to keep their sins hidden. Today, the travel is not much different. No one wishes to stop it, because in doing so their own indulgences would be made known."
"Wonderful! You're going to place me in a palace and give me the reputation of a harlot?" She glanced at Philip, and for the first time he appeared ill at ease.
"You won't be asked to do anything I wouldn't have my own daughter do," Emanuel replied. "Besides, you will be safe, and you will provide us with the information we need."
"Walt? Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"
Walt's eyes darted to Emanuel. "Yes, Sophie. Actually, I think it will help us get information for our . . . shipment, too."
"Philip?" She turned to him.
"It will be safer than having you work with bombs and guns." Philip took her hand. "If anyone can pull this off, Sophie, it's you. And . . . well, you've helped the Republican causes in many different ways before. I have no doubt you'll succeed again. Besides, it's only for a week or two. Isn't that what you said?" He locked eyes on Emanuel.
"Sí, just enough time for us to update our information."
Sophie pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them. Amazingly, the first thought that came to her was the woman in the cave apartment. When the Republicans win, I will have a home, she had said. That woman had hoped, even though she could do nothing for the cause. How could Sophie not act when given the chance?
"Okay. Count me in. When do I leave?"
Emanuel clicked his tongue. "Not too soon. The timing . . . it is not right. Not until we prepare. And not until you know your duty." He slid the gun from his shoulder holster. "First of which will be to protect yourself. And you need to know how to make it back to safety whenever it is necessary. This mission will not be done in haste. After all . . ." He smiled. "This right person is greatly valued in our eyes."