A melodrama about the Basque peasant underground of Spain and France, silly enough for a brace of Anthony Quinn flicks. The twist is that 150 years ago Goya himself went underground, hiding out with the Basques, and as a favor painted a heroic freedom fighter against the Basque flag. The relic has been guarded in the caves of Guernica by guerrillas as if it were Peter's cross in the Vatican cellars. A wealthy Jewish art collector in New York hires the widowed daughter-in-law of the next shoo-in presidential hopeful to grab the painting (if it's authentic) before other collectors hear of it and drive the price sky-high. Since she is also likely to be the next White House hostess, she's a big diplomatic risk running around the Cantabrian Mountains with Basques who are blowing up armories and so on. The scenes shift with thumb-twiddling perfunctoriness from Washington to the U.S. consulate in Bilbao; from the caves to a police torture chamber ruled by a monstrous lesbian fascist with a taste for aristocratic ladies; from the U.S. consul's affair with a guerrilla gal to the hateful tactics of an international art thief--all in one novel, which also includes an obligatory flashback of the Nazi bombers leveling Guernica. The writing has all the flavor of a boiled typewriter.