"It was the back windshield. Tempered glass. The nines broke it. I knew the first one would go wild, but I thought number two and three might score. Konzaki's custom steel cores and all that jazz."

"Nine millimeter was designed to kill Europeans," Lyons told them. "For dangerous people, you got to use .45 caliber."

They laughed at Lyons's cynicism. Blancanales finally reminded them of the task at hand. "Gentlemen, if I can have your attention. We're looking for an address."

Using a tourist map from the car-rental agency, Able Team drove through the streets and boulevards of the central city. Blancanales had no difficulty with the traffic, but few of the corners had streets signs. One-way streets forced him to drive past certain streets and then circle back. At last they found the correct avenue, and cruised slowly down the block, reading the numbers.

They found the number on a cafe's window. Looking in at the patrons and waitresses, Lyons shook his head.

"That Nazi tricked us."

"What do these big numbers on the map mean?" Gadgets asked Blancanales.

"What numbers?"

"These." Gadgets pointed out several faint numbers with penlight.

They saw large numbers in faint blue ink superimposed over the streets and rivers of Guatemala City. The number 1 marked the old center of the city. The number 9 marked the area of the international airport. The number 19 marked a suburb ten miles away.

Blancanales drove to the corner and looked at the street sign. The sign read, 6 AVENIDA Z. 1.

"Zones! The city's divided into zones."

"That Nazi Merida didn't give us the zone number!" Lyons cursed. "I told you. He fooled us."

"If you remember," Blancanales reminded Lyons, "he had your Python up against his skull. Tricking us was not his number one concern. He just forgot to give us the zone."