The frightened man who was both host and hostage raised his hand slowly, fingered the dial, dropped his hand in disgust. He dried his sopping fingers against the front of his jacket, tried again. The tumblers of the lock rose and fell; the lock remained closed. Santiago slowly released the safety catch of his pistol. "What passes?" he asked.
"Ssh," Rivas pleaded. "I'll try it again."
"Wait." Hall held a small bottle of brandy up to Rivas's face. "Take a drink. It will steady your hands."
"Many thanks."
"Open it."
"It's coming, Colonel."
Santiago looked at the luminous dial of his wrist watch; eight minutes gone. The band would not be under the window all night. He beckoned to Hall. "That white door near the window, Mateo. He says you will find the Arribas in there perhaps."
"I'll try it."
"He's opened the steel door," Eduardo said.
"Keep him covered." Santiago stepped in front of Rivas, opened the door as wide as it would swing. He faced a multitude of locked steel drawers.