“Captain Eduardo Peña y Santos,” Zalaya breathed.
Serrano frowned, reaching for the associated memory the name tickled. He dredged it up. “That’s right. That’s the officer you killed in the hospital,” he told Zalaya.
* * * * *
Minnie stared at the monitor. Her heart was thundering in her ears and she grew dizzy. She remembered to breathe.
How had Duardo survived his time as Zalaya with his facilities intact? The things he must have been forced to do to keep suspicions from rising! That kiss he had given Torrez...there must have been other moments like that.
Then there was the conversation about killing Duardo. It confirmed her suspicion that Duardo had taken Zalaya’s place during his stay in the hospital.
It also crystallized a fact she hadn’t faced before. In order for that exchange to take place, Duardo had dealt with Zalaya in some way. Had he killed him, as Serrano believed Zalaya had killed Duardo?
* * * * *
“This Peña—he was a mere captain,” Torrez pointed out.
“The rank was inconsequential,” Zalaya said dismissively. “Through the American woman, Peña became first a friend and then a trusted officer to Nicolás Escobedo. They worked side by side until the beginning of the war. He arrived at a position of trust through friendship.” He speared Torrez with one of his unrelenting gazes. “Much like you, Captain Torrez.”
Torrez grinned.
Zalaya got to his feet and reached for the cane. “Regardless of rank or authority, the fact is the woman we have is important to Escobedo. She is known to him. We can use that. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I have much to do this day. General.” He inclined his head toward Serrano, tucked the files up under one arm and worked his way to the door.
“That bullet did not spare you much, did it, Bruno?” Torrez murmured.
Zalaya stopped level with him. “It spared my life. That is enough for now. The rest will come.” He considered his words and grinned. “It will come, or I will take it.” He nodded at Torrez and left the room, letting the door swing shut behind him.
Torrez sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “He has a woman tucked away in his rooms?”
“He always has something tucked away. You know him better than I, Torrez. You really need to ask?”
Torrez frowned. “Something about this one bothers you,” he said.
Serrano forced air through his teeth in a quiet hiss. “This one is becoming an obsession,” he admitted.
“Obsessions can be dangerous,” Torrez returned.
“They can also be considered a weakness,” Serrano pointed out. “Weaknesses can be exploited.”
* * * * *
When the door opened and Zalaya slipped through, Minnie was still sitting in his chair, watching the monitors. Now, more than ever, she was mortally aware of the roles they must play for the cameras and those who watched.
She scrambled to her feet, the extended chain tugging at her wrist, as Zalaya shut the door behind him. His gaze went from her to the screens and back.
“You fucking bastard!” she cried. “You knew. You knew all along!”
Both his hands came to rest on the top of the cane. The pose was eerily like the top-hatted gentlemen of the Victorian era. “Until this morning I did not know your soldier was the one in the hospital. How could I?”
“You killed him!”
Zalaya shrugged. “He was the enemy.”
“He was wounded!”
“So was I.”
She clawed the top of the file cabinets behind her and felt something solid and heavy come under her hand. She lifted it and heaved it at him. He swayed and the paper punch whizzed past his thigh to smash into the door behind him. It fell apart and paper confetti scattered across the floor.
“That achieves nothing,” he told her.
“Like hell.” As he took another step toward her, Minnie grabbed for another blunt object. “Don’t you dare come any closer!” she screamed.
He took another step, as if she had not spoken.
She threw the stapler at him. It was a big, industrial-strength one and only missed him because he dodged sideways again, ducking. She was out of ammunition. She backed up into the bedroom, searching for more missiles. She found the tray that had carried the food she had eaten. The plates and heavy-based water glass still sat on it. As soon as he appeared in the doorway, she let fly. This time she took the time to aim properly. All the plates and the tray missed him, but the missiles were too close together and she adjusted her aim as he reacted. As a result, the heavy water glass smashed into his shoulder, tearing a gash in his shirt and the shoulder beneath. The shirt instantly turned red with blood.
“¡Mierda!” he muttered and pulled a pistol from his pocket. He brought it up and fired off two shots at her.
Minnie screamed and threw herself to the floor, covering her head.
Another three shots thudded into the carpet by her head. The sound of the pistol in that enclosed space was like a volley of thunderclaps.
“Get up,” Zalaya said with a snap. “I aimed to miss, or you would not be still breathing.”
He had the pistol aimed at her. Dead center, with not a fraction of an inch of movement. It was like looking into the dead, blank eye of eternity. She shivered.
“I killed your precious captain, but only because he tried to kill me,” Zalaya told her.
“Bullshit! Why would Duardo try to kill you?”
Zalaya made an impatient sound. “Because I was in the same army once. I was posted to Pascuallita, just like Peña. He recognized me in the hospital.”
“You worked with Duardo?” Minnie shook her head. “Why would he kill you, then?” The reason dropped into place for her and she answered it herself, picking her phrases carefully to ensure the deception was maintained. “Because you betrayed Vistaria. You sold out to the Insurrectos.”
“Things like that happen in times of war,” Zalaya said dismissively. “Besides, I left the army long before the revolution began. Peña carried a grudge since then. At the hospital, when I was brought in and lay helpless, he saw his chance.”
“This grudge you speak of. Is that the reason you left the army?”
Zalaya waved the pistol impatiently. “Do not attempt futile diversions with me. I have no reason to give you this explanation. You should recognize that fact by remaining silent. Accept what I tell you, woman. No one else can offer you this boon.”
“Why do you bother, then?” she shot back.
“To show you how you waste your time mourning for a weak failure of a man.”
She shook her head. “He was not weak.”
“I stand here. He does not. Who is the stronger, hmm?”
“He was recovering from a bullet through the back that would have killed any other man.” She smiled. “Yet he still came close enough to killing you that you were scared into retaliating with deadly force.” She put her hands on her hips. “In fact, I’m betting he came at you with no weapons but his own bare hands and you took him out with a gun.” She pointed to the deadly eye staring at her. “I bet it was that one.”
Zalaya snapped on the safety and shoved the gun back into his pocket. “I will return in two hours. Be naked and waiting for me.”
“Why don’t you give Torrez that order instead? He’d bend over for you in a heartbeat.”
Zalaya grew still. “I will turn off the screens this time,” he said softly. “You hear far too much for your own good.”
She crossed her arms. “Who was it that ordered the roof over the outside path be taken away?”
Zalaya’s eye widened in surprise. “If I was not certain before, you have just confirmed that you can be no one other than Minerva Benning, one of only two Western women who would know there was a roof there once.”
“Yeah, like you didn’t already know,” she shot back. “Who ordered the roof be torn down?”
His eye narrowed. “You are not in a position to ask questions,” he reminded
her.
“Call this my boon, then. Your heroism in slaughtering an unarmed man you can shove up your ass.”
He considered it for a moment then shrugged and looked at his watch again. “I seem to recall that General Serrano gave the order.” He walked to the door, limping heavily. He maneuvered around the broken china and shattered glass. At the door, he paused, head down, hand on the handle. Considering. He spoke softly. “It would appear that your quest here is over, would it not? You have found what you came for.”
He stepped through the door and shut it firmly behind him.
Minnie was careful not to look at the camera as she sat on the bed. Her skin crawled with the knowledge that someone other than Zalaya could be watching her right now. It had to be Serrano—the paranoid general who needed someone like Zalaya to monitor everything and everyone, the general who took away the roof of the walkway so he could watch all who approached his palace.
Who watches the watchers? There was only Serrano left. But why watch at all?
The answer was obvious.
He didn’t trust Zalaya either.
That was not the only reason for her shiver. It was Duardo’s last message to her: Your quest here is over. You have found what you came for.
Added to his last message on the mirror, it was a demand that she find a way to leave.
Without him.
* * * * *
Serrano switched off the monitor on his desk and glanced at Torrez.
“Why on earth would he bother explaining it to her at all?” Torrez asked softly. “Why the whole ‘boon’ thing?”
“I figured you would be able to tell me that,” Serrano growled. He rubbed his chin in his hand, hearing the bristles scratch.
“What did he mean by her quest?”
Serrano grimaced. “Some stupid medieval jousting challenge to steal a pillow from my bed—some mad group she’s with put her up to it. That’s how we caught her.”
“She didn’t come here for Peña?” Torrez asked sharply.
Serrano paused. “I suppose she might have. That would make more sense.” He waved a hand at the monitor. “Agh, this whole business is biting itself on the ass. I can’t tell anymore why anyone is doing anything. That’s why I’m glad you’re back, Jose. I need a clear head around here. Zalaya is losing it and I need back-up.”
“Bruno was always too easily influenced by his emotions,” Torrez said softly.
“Zalaya?” Serrano’s brows shot to his hairline. “That man is so cool he pisses ice cubes.”
Torrez grinned. “I see he has never told you the details of that grudge between him and Peña.”
Serrano settled back in his chair. “I’m listening,” he said with a smile.
Chapter Fifteen
Calli slipped into Nick’s office unnoticed as General Blanco spread his hands. “But it should be you, Señor, who represents us,” Blanco said in Spanish.
The big man in the formal dress uniform towered over Nick’s desk, for he stood at nearly six feet and weighed close to two hundred and fifty pounds. At one time most of that weight had been muscle. He was still strong despite the iron-gray hair and the seamed face, but he was troubled.
Nick shook his head. “It’s not the time for me to take such a public role. I’m neither a soldier nor an elected official. It must be you, Blanco.”
“The men are expecting you. Everyone is expecting you. Even the Mexican officials are expecting you. It is a social event, Señor. No one will be discussing politics.”
Nick shook his head and stood up. “Politics will be the most popular topic, especially if I go.”
Blanco sighed heavily. “Your name is on the invitation. You will insult them if you do not go.”
Calli sensed this was Blanco’s last defense and even he knew it was a shaky one at best.
Nick smiled. “When I send the official head of the army in my place? If they do feel insulted, they have a warped sense of priorities. I’ve made my decision, Alonzo. I’m sorry, but now is not the time for me to publicly represent Vistaria. It must be you.”
Blanco sighed again.
“Did I upset your personal plans, old friend?” Nick asked.
“Not at all, Señor. How could you? My life is here in this house and will be until we can once again call Vistaria home. Only, I am a general, not a politician. I will do Vistaria a disservice by trying to fill your boots.”
Nick came around the desk and patted Blanco’s arm. “We are both leaders of men, no?”
“Yes, of course, Señor.”
“That is what they will see—that you are a leader of men—and they will be honored by your presence.”
Blanco nodded slowly. “Thank you, Señor.” He swiveled to face Calli. “Señora Calli.” He gave the short Vistarian bow.
Calli gave him a warm smile as he left the room, his shoulders square.
“How do you do that?” she asked Nick. “I watch you do it all the time and I still can’t see how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Change people’s minds like that. Make them see things your way and like it.”
“I don’t make people do anything,” Nick answered, settling himself in his chair once more. “I just...explain things.”
Calli shrugged and gave up. The truth was that Nick had a gift for dealing with people, one that he could not explain and others could not imitate. She dropped the DVD of Serrano’s goodwill tour onto Nick’s desk. “I think you were right. I think someone was trying to send us a message.”
Nick sat back in his chair. “And good afternoon to you too, mi esposa.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry.” She moved around the desk and leaned over to kiss him. Nick pulled her down onto his lap and took control of the kiss, making it a thorough one and when Calli came up for air, she clutched at his shoulder. “Maybe I’m not sorry enough,” she said.
Nick tackled the buttons on her shirt, one-handed. “You’re sorry enough,” he said with a growl. “You were saying...?”
“I was?” she asked, watching his hand work.
“About the DVD. It was a message?”
“The DVD...” His hand slid inside the shirt and settled on her bare breast and she caught her breath.
Nick’s gaze settled on her face. “Concentrate,” he crooned. “The DVD. Tell me.”
Calli battled to pull her thoughts together. “The DVD...” She swallowed hard. “It was sent to the network’s corporate office. Anonymously.”
“Post? Courier?”
“Hand delivered.” She gasped.
“And...?” he coaxed.
The window overlooking the sea exploded inward with a blast of hot, roaring air.
Nick’s reaction was instant. He pulled Calli tight against him and turned the big, high-backed chair away from the window. He held on to her as the blast battered at them, hunched over her to protect her from the worst of it.
The deafening blast lasted only a few seconds. Then came the tinkle of glass pattering on the desk, the carpet. It was a deadly rain of shards, plaster and dust. Hot air that throbbed around them.
Nick carefully lifted his head and Calli looked up at him, blinking. His dark hair with the deep red highlights was almost white on top where the dust had settled.
He swiveled the chair around to face the window.
The window was gone. In its place was a gaping hole in the wall. Even the frame had been ripped from its moorings, exposing the old stone building blocks.
Nick said something. Calli could see his lips moving and even the low rumble in his chest, where it rested against her arm.
“What?” she said. She couldn’t hear her own voice either. “I can’t hear!”
Nick brought his lips close to her ear. “Help the others! There will be injuries!”
“What happened?” she shouted back.
“Bomb.” Nick shook his head sharply, clearing it. “Car bomb. I think...I fear Blanco is dead.” He got to his feet and settled her on her own. “Go. They
will need someone calm to direct them.” He pushed her toward the door.
Calli walked stiffly, glancing at the gaping wound in the wall as she went. She was stunned, her senses all wrapped in cotton wadding. Nick expected her to be the calm director?
She buttoned her shirt and stepped out into the main rooms and was hit with panicked, hysterical Spanish as dazed people covered in dust instantly coalesced around her. Already, her hearing was returning.
She held up a hand. “Slowly, slowly,” she said in Spanish. “Who is hurt? Tell me.”
* * * * *
Forty minutes later, Nick appeared at her side as she scratched off names on one list and added them to another. He crouched down next to her as she bent over the woman on the makeshift pallet on the second-floor landing to ask her name.
Nick was covered in dust, splattered with blood and looked as tired as a man who had gone a week without sleep.
He picked up her hand that held the pen and kissed the knuckles. “Mi esposa,” he murmured.
Calli looked up as Josh moved beside Nick. Her uncle looked around the landing, shaking his head.
“Tell me what you need, Josh,” Calli said. “Triage is in the kitchen. There’s also filtered water there and food. Just sandwiches, but the carbs will get you over the shock quickly. Or do you need communications?” She pulled Nick’s cell phone off her belt. “I just traded batteries, so it’s fully charged. The land line is out, but we have email—I set up my laptop on the next landing.”
Josh just stared at her.
“Something else then,” she guessed. “I thought I had covered everything.”
Nick gave a low chuckle and got to his feet.
“You did,” Josh said, his voice hoarse. “Jesus Maria, all this in ten minutes?”
“Forty,” she corrected, glancing at her watch. “You know what Nick’s like. He tends to give impossible-to-meet demands and expects you to meet them, so you just somehow do it.”
Nick tried to shrug it off. Josh, though, shook his head. “He knows exactly what everyone is capable of,” he told Calli. He turned slowly around the room. “Sweet Maria,” he breathed. “They wanted to make sure, didn’t they?”
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