A week after the arrests, November 23, Senora Maria Valdes stood among a group of reporters with her back against a fence near an open window at the police headquarters where the priest had been taken. The priest's sister had also come and stood by Senora Valdes. She listened to shouted arguing coming from within.
"But surely you won't do this without a trial and official charges! He's a priest, these stupid people won't have it! Give me a few more days to draw up some paperwork!
"I don’t want paper! I want the deed! Do it now!"
Senora Valdes knew who spoke those words and what they meant. It didn't matter that there was no evidence of involvement in the plot. The priest was to be executed along with his brother and two others by order of the President.
"Oh, Cocol!" the priest's sister sobbed as she fell into the arms of Senora Valdes.
A commotion began as crowds started to gather around the police station. There were hundreds. Guards appeared at the fence, pushing back the people trying to get a glimpse of the condemned. A truck pulled up and five soldiers, rifles in hand, were ushered inside. Groups of people knelt to pray. Some shouted invectives at the guards, some at the priest. The noise became deafening.
Suddenly the roar of the crowd hushed and over the wall, from the courtyard of the police headquarters could be heard a man's voice, speaking loudly, almost happily. The crowd went still and listened.
"Viva Cristo Rey!" echoed clearly.
A volley of rifle shots rang out and then silence. Senora Valdes and Father Miguel Pro’s sister stood staring at each other, tears rolling down their cheeks. Another shot was heard, this one from a pistol, and the crowd erupted again.