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Refugio laughed silently； and the sweat in his massive eyebrows winked as though sharing the
joke。 As Masarek turned toward the tunnel； he decided that when the smuggler’s usefulness was
done； he would teach Refugio the meaning of terror。 And then Refugio would die。
Imperial General HQ
Tokyo
50 Hours Before Trinity
Page 34
（Excerpts from radio log of American Intelligence Section of Imperial Army Intelligence。
Decoded。）
AMERICANS SOON WILL TEST NEW WEAPON IN DESERT NORTH OF
ALAMOGORDO； NEW MEXICO。 NATURE OF WEAPON STILL UNKNOWN。 IT IS
SMALL ENOUGH TO BE CARRIED BY ONE MAN； YET POWERFUL （OR
UNPREDICTABLE） ENOUGH TO REQUIRE A DISTANCE OF SEVERAL MILES
BETWEEN OBSERVERS AND TEST。
ANOTHER WEAPON SOON TO BE SHIPPED FROM LOS ALAMOS TO SAN
FRANCISCO。 FROM THERE； IT MUST BE ASSUMED THE WEAPON WILL BE PUT
INTO USE AGAINST JAPAN。
RUSSIAN SPY PLANS TO STEAL WEAPON IN SAN FRANCISCO。 I WILL GO THERE
AND STEAL WEAPON FROM HIM。 KESTREL
（Reply。 Decoded。）
ANY WEAPON SMALL ENOUGH FOR ONE MAN TO CARRY CAN’T AFFECT
JAPAN’S IMMEDIATE FUTURE AND THEREFORE IS NOT TO BE FEARED。 THERE
MUST BE TWO DIFFERENT WEAPONS。
REMAIN IN JUAREZ AND DETERMINE THE NATURE OF WEAPON TO BE
TESTED IN THE DESERT。 MAJ。 GEN。 ARISUE
（Reply。 Decoded。）
ANY WEAPON THAT SETS ALLIES AGAINST EACH OTHER MUST BE
ENORMOUSLY VALUABLE TO AN ENEMY。 URGENTLY REQUEST PERMISSION
TO FOLLOW RUSSIAN TO SAN FRANCISCO。 KESTREL
（Reply。 Decoded。）
REQUEST UNDER CONSIDERATION。 MAJ。 GEN。 ARISUE
Beneath Mexican…American Border
49 Hours Before Trinity
Once； half…revealed by a swinging yellow light； they saw Buddha staring from a wall niche； his
dust…covered eyes contemplating far more distant borders than the one the tunnel had been built
to circumvent。
“The Chinese；” said Refugio as he passed the niche； “built this tunnel with the skills they learned
on gringo railroad crews； and then they used this tunnel to smuggle thousands of Chinese into
the United States。”
“My father’s uncle；” Refugio said； “married the only child of the man who owned the houses on
both sides of the border； and the tunnel between。 She was Chinese； but our family wanted the
tunnel very badly。 She died soon and he married a good Mexican girl。 The tunnel is ours now； as
is only just。 The Chinese are very good smugglers； but they are not very good Mexicans。”
The atmosphere was neither fresh nor stale。 It had a peculiar； dense taste to it； as though the
same air had been there since the tunnel was built。
“How deep are we？” asked Vanessa。
“Deep enough to die if the tunnel gives way；” said Refugio。
The tunnel walls seemed to lean in； absorbing light and sound。 Refugio’s voice was clear； but it
did not carry as well as it should have。 The air was thick； flat； deadening； yet the lamps still
burned with a muddy yellow flame。 Suddenly the walls changed from aggregate to wood； a dark
hallway more than 150 feet long。 Sand that had seeped and trickled between the timbers lay in
small drifts across the floor and grated beneath their feet。
Page 35
“This is the bottom of an old river。 The ground is very soft。 More than thirty Chinese were
buried alive here before they finally brought in timber from the north of California。 They had
many Chinese； you see； but very little wood。”
In the silence it seemed that they could hear individual grains of sand sifting between cracked
timbers； and the wood itself sighing under the interminable burden of heavy earth。
Beyond the shored…up section； the floor ascended steadily。 Walking became more difficult。
Pebbles rolled beneath their feet as they climbed back toward the surface。 At the foot of a short
stairway； Refugio pulled hard several times on a dirty cord that was strung along the wall。
When he turned away from the wall； the light from the lamp he was carrying washed over
Vanessa。 The thick yellow glow and velvet shadows mellowed her brittle beauty。 Refugio
stopped； caught by the unexpected softness of her body in the light。 He stared at her with eyes
that were as intrusive as hands。 Vanessa ignored him。
After another long look； Refugio led Vanessa and Masarek up the stairs； through a short
passageway and into a room that resembled a wine cellar。 Instead of a trapdoor in the ceiling；
the exit was a full…sized door set in the far wall。 The door was heavily carved and lacked anything
resembling a handle。 Refugio waited several moments； then swore beneath his breath。
Shielding the door with his body； Refugio pushed against the wood in several places at once。
With a click； the door swung slightly toward him。 From the other side of the door； a shaft of
blue…white light fell over them； dimming the lanterns into insignificant yellow puddles。 Refugio
opened the door all the way。
“Welcome to the United States；” he said； smiling and gesturing toward the hard white light
made by electricity rather than kerosene。 “Jucumba； California。”
Masarek went through the door first； relieved to be out of the tunnel。 Vanessa followed； looking
around carefully； suddenly conscious of the weight of the pistol lying inside her purse。
The house they entered was an odd mixture of Mexican； Oriental and American culture。 The
eaves curved upward； echoing the pagodas of China and Japan； an echo repeated by the
elegantly painted silk screen that divided the room。 The hard lights； the indifferently made
furniture and the picture windows were American； as was the telephone and the varnished wood
cabinet containing a radio。 The curtains and rugs were distinctively Mexican； aflame with colors。
The shrine holding a gilt…and…blue plaster Madonna was also Mexican。
A man appeared； moving slowly； with the awkwardness of age。 When he came closer； it was
clear that he was not so much aged as crippled。 He walked as though his knees were as rigid as
his shins。 Unlike the Mexicans； his skin was more red than brown； though his hair was as black as
theirs。
“Don Refugio；” said the man in quick Spanish。 “I was just coming to open the door for you。”
Refugio grunted。 “Verdad？ But I could not wait all day； so I opened the door myself。 You are
getting too slow for even this job。”
“No； no；” said the man。 “I am not too slow。” To prove his words； he ran three shuffling steps
across the room。 “See； don Refugio？ I am very fast。”
Refugio shrugged and turned away。 “Stay fast； viejo。 I have no other jobs for a cripple。” Refugio
switched to English for the benefit of the two foreigners。 “That man is Ridgewalker。 He used to
be an Apache and a smuggler。 Now he is an old woman with no knees。”
Masarek looked at Refugio； then at the Indian whom age had robbed of quickness and pride。
“Send them all away；” he said。 “I won’t discuss business in the presence of servants。”
Masarek’s voice was hard； his body relaxed。 Being above ground had regenerated his
confidence。 Refugio sent his men away with three curt words in Spanish。 After the men were
gone； he leaned against the carved door until it clicked into place。 When closed； the door
blended into a wall of carved panels that depicted mountains and waterfalls and elegant trees
bending beneath an invisible wind。
Vanessa walked to a heavily curtained window。 She pulled the cloth aside slightly； ignoring the
two men。 In the distance she could see the buildings of Calexico and Mexicali； a single entity but
Page 36
for the geographic accident of an international border dividing their sprawl into two unequal
cities。
Refugio turned to Masarek。 “You have seen my houses and my tunnel。 It is as I told you – a very
safe way to take something across the border。 Well worth the 15；0001 will charge for its rent。”
“I would not pay you that much if the tunnel bypassed hell；” said Masarek； his voice colorless。
“You are also buying my services – and my silence。”
“Both have yet to be proved。”
“Perhaps the price is too high；” Refugio conceded； shrugging； “but you have not told me what it
is you want done。 I have shared with you the secrets of my work and you have shared nothing。
So my price is high。 Offended pride； you understand。”
“Your price is ridiculous。”
Vanessa listened to the two men argue。 Refugio oozed reason； while Masarek displayed casual
contempt。 She listened； counting the houses between herself and the outskirts of Calcxico。 When
she had counted them four times； the men were no closer to agreeing than when she had started。
Vanessa let the colorful curtain fall back into place。 “Refugio。”
At the single word from Vanessa； both men stopped arguing。 Refugio turned and stared at the
white…skinned woman whose voice was oddly different。 When she spoke again； he realized that
her speech had lost its intriguing breathiness。
“Our employers are willing to pay you； within reason； for your services。 Fifteen thousand dollars
is not within reason。 Ten is。 No；” she said when she saw Refugio begin to speak。 “I’m not
bargaining。 Ten thousand dollars or nothing at all。”
Refugio knew inflexibility when he met it。 He hesitated； then nodded a curt agreement。 Ten
thousand was three thousand more than he would have settled for。
“That’s too much money； of course；” said Vanessa。 “In return for it； you will cooperate
completely with both Masarek and me。 If I tell you to do som