"We don't know who it is," Raul yelled. He crossed the room and knelt beside his wife. "Stay here by the wall. I have men all around the house. Somebody got on our wall and fired down on us, maybe several men. We'll drive them off. Listen ... the shooting has stopped." "There goes somebody--along the wall," Manuel shouted, and fired through window glass, fragments flying about him. Like a wraith, Fernando pushed through the patio entrance in his wheel chair, shoving with one hand, groaning. Manuel saw him in the direct line of fire from the wall and scuttled toward the chair, grabbed it and rolled it near Angelina and Raul. "Father!" said Raul. "You shouldn't be here." "You want them to come in my room and kill me. Who is it? What is all this? I, you ... why...." His white face and eyeglassless eyes shocked Angelina and she knelt beside him. "You should have stayed in your room," she said. "Who helped you?" "Who's out there?" Fernando asked. "What's happening?" "There are a lot of men. Pedro ... many men ... I don't know just who they are." "So Pedro has turned against me, the god-damn' bastard. I--" A volley of shots tore into the house, and Raul and Manuel returned the fire. Rifle bullets cracked above, sounding steadily. "Our men are shooting from the roof," Raul said to Manuel. The old man coughed and tried to see; he blinked and tugged at his chair. Raul, tormented by the firing, his father's presence, the destruction, fired recklessly. "Take it slow, Raul," Manuel said. "First thing you know, you'll be taking chances." Raul nodded. Crawling to the far end of the room, he opened a French door and aimed carefully at a man on the wall; as he shot, he noticed one of Petaca's guards firing from the corner turret. "Some of our men are in the turrets," he said. Esteban soon appeared in the patio door. "We're driving them away!" he shouted. "Our men are on the roof. They're leaving Petaca ... we've got them on the run!" He pointed his pistol at the walls. "Good--we've got them on the run," said Raul to Manuel, "Kill them!" cried Fernando. "You must be quiet, ssh," said Angelina, shoving his chair nearer to the wall and sitting beside it. Other Petaca men took over the outside wall, firing. Raul, at one end of the room and Manuel, at the other, watched and waited. The quiet was strange. Holding on to the wheel chair, Angelina began to cry. Raul, flattened against the wall, stared at her, hating her lack of courage and control. Why wasn't she in Guadalajara? Raul checked his supply of bullets and then wheeled his father to his bedroom and with the help of Angelina and Chavela, got him into bed. Fernando was silent, very weak.