just lovesick. He has his nose stuck in a sweet little honey pot, and it's got him all turned around. It happens to the best of us.”

     I held the chair and tasted a black, impotent fury. I couldn't move. I couldn't think of moving. I saw that Penney was distracted, alert to something outside: gunfire, rattling again in Lanao.

     “The hacienda is a nest,” Penney said when I noticed it. “Commie Central. The G's have been using it for one big safe house. Harvest's almost over, Luis can do some housecleaning.”

     “Can we go now, Jack?” Dalzell said. “Please?”

     “I want to talk to Vangie.”

     “God damn,” Penney said.

     Footsteps came down the hall, into the sala. Baby and Nonoy. Baby put his clutch bag down on the buffet table and began to fill a plate.

     “You'd better get him out of here,” he said.

     “We're trying,” Penney said.

     “Yes, Jack, right away,” Nonoy said. His voice had an urgent quaver. He was wound tight.

     Baby took his plate over to a window across the room. He said, “He should see this. Maybe it'll light a fire under him.”

     I went with Dalzell and Penney. Nonoy came too—reluctantly, I thought—and we looked out together, down to the bottom of the hill.

     Correon was leaving the caretakers' cottage. He had a pistol in his hand. Lito Sanchez was standing in the open area between the cottage and the foot of the hill. The two vigilante guards stood nearby. Correon walked up to him and spoke. Lito spoke. A broad grin grew on his face; I recognized it.

     Correon clubbed the grin with his pistol. The force drove Lito to one knee.

     Lito stood again. The grin was still there. Correon began shouting; ranting. His arms waved as he shouted,