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Bath time with Rosa and Verdé.

"But, you are hurt." The second said and the opened wide the door and lent their support on either side of him.

I carried the two rifles as the sisters helped Roddrego inside and closed and bolted the doors behind us.

I could see no sign of the truck. That worried me. I could see Roddrego was looking for it as well. We looked at each other. This could be awkward.

One of the sisters called ahead and two other nuns appeared and helped and escorted us into the convent chapel, to a narrow side door in the shadows of one corner and down into the crypt.

A number of lanterns lit the tombs and monuments throwing ghastly, fantastical shadows over the inhabitants.

It was cold in these cellars and most of the occupants had blankets draped around them. It was difficult to estimate the numbers but there must have been upwards of fifty people down here. It looked as if the evening meal had just finished as I could see two nuns scraps from the various groups of people in buckets.

"Roddrego."

I heard a woman's voice cry out.

"And Mr Wagstaffe."

I turned to watch an elderly lady move towards us. Despite her advancing years she still carried herself with an air of authority and grace.

"You are hurt." She said looking down to where one of the nuns had removed Roddrego's shoe and sock to reveal a multicoloured grossly swollen ankle.

I flinched as a nun pulled the tattered remains of my shirt from the dried blood that surrounded the wound on my back.

A second lady, whom I recognised as the wife of Roddrego's father's Chief of Staff joined us and looked from each of us to the narrow flight with a look of anticipation on her face.

"Did you see Javier?" She asked the stairway.

"We saw him." Roddrego replied, looking at his mother and shaking his head slowly.

"When will he return?"

"I'm sorry." Roddrego replied.

"Sorry?" Her shoulders seemed to sag as she turned slowly towards Roddrego. "Sorry? Why are you sorry. Where is he?"

Roddrego's mother placed her arm around her shoulder.

"No, they cannot mean it." She continued, turning her gaze towards the stairs again. "They are mistaken."

"There is no mistake. He fought like a Lion and killed four men." Roddrego spoke. "He tried to protect the girls."

"Tried?"

Roddrego's father had joined us and picked up on the one word.

"He tried." Roddrego replied. "The girls were coming here in a truck with a driver. Has it not arrived?"

"We have seen nobody since the village priest came and left with two of our order to administer to the sick and needy." A large, middle-aged woman said. From her air of authority I imagined she would be the Mother Superior. "He has not returned. Can you tell us what is happening."

A jug of water was produced with a metal cup and both Roddrego and I drank deeply. Then, whilst my shirt was removed and my wound bathed and a cold compress applied to Roddrego's ankle we told them what had happened since our leaving Gibraltar that morning. We spoke quietly so as not to alarm the others. The Chief of Staff's wife had to be taken away by Roddrego's mother when we came to tell of our arrival at the Villa. We glossed over the details of what we found in the servants quarters. Then went on to tell of our plan to lead the Communists away to give the others a chance to escape in the truck.

I heard the Nun behind me working on my back and shoulder gasp a number of times as we told our tale. I looked into her face when she had finished to offer my thanks. It was a pretty face. In her early twenties perhaps. I hoped the gangs of men roaming outside still retained some respect for those in holy orders but from what I had seen that day I doubted it.

We had to get them out. All of them.

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Somerset 1972.

Paul.

I could hear a bell ringing. It seemed so far away at first, then it was closer. Somebody was tight up close behind me breathing into my hair. I could feel a cock between my ass cheeks.

I looked over my shoulder at Steve's face.

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