V-Day

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  Even so, Chloe knew who she was before she spoke. She was US military.

  The red-head nodded at Cristián. “Captain Graves, United States Army Rangers,” she said. Her Spanish was flawless, as far as Chloe could tell.

  “American?” Cristián replied. He let out a heavy breath and looked up at the top of the cliffs. “Then who…?”

  There were nine other figures up on the cliffs, now. They stood openly, all wearing the same fatigues, their rifles leaning against their knees, or slung over their shoulders. Their posture was casual as they scanned the area, their heads turning.

  “Insurrectos,” Graves told Cristián. “We picked up Chloe’s trail eighteen hours ago. We’ve been following her ever since. So have the Insurrectos. We think they waited for her to lead them to you. They only opened fire when you appeared. You’re a wanted man, Cristián Peña.”

  Chloe flinched. “How do you know our names?” she demanded. Had nothing she done in the last two weeks been private?

  Graves glanced at her. Her green eyes danced. “I know your names, Chloe, because Cristián and I are family.”

  “What?” both Chloe and Cristián said together.

  2.

  PARRIS SETTLED ON HER PACK, which Ramirez had brought down for her, while Cristián and the Masters woman sat on the ground in front of her. It was almost dawn. The camp was fully awake now. Parris asked Lieutenant Locke to set out sentries. She told everyone else to get some shut eye, which they were doing down here in the gully, at the edges of the camp, to the consternation of the people already here.

  Parris ignored it all. She assessed Cristián Peña. He had gray eyes instead of the Vistarian black, yet in all other aspects he was typically Vistarian. He had a sharp jaw and nose and a direct way of looking at people which made her think he was assessing her just as thoroughly as she was considering him.

  “We’re related?” he said at last.

  “As of two days ago, yes,” Parris told him. She didn’t lift her hand. There was no ring there for her to display.

  “By marriage,” Chloe murmured.

  Cristián frowned. “Only, who…” Then his frown cleared. “Adán Caballero,” he concluded.

  Chloe frowned. “He didn’t say he was married…” she murmured to herself.

  Parris admitted to herself she was impressed. “I didn’t give you many clues,” she told Cristián.

  He shrugged. “You implied we’re related by marriage—and there are…there was not, I mean, any unwed men in the family but Adán Caballero. He’s related to me through marriage, too.” Cristián shifted on the ground. “Is that why you’re here?”

  Parris nodded. “We chuted onto the island yesterday—sorry, Wednesday morning now. Just over six hours after I said ‘I do,’” she added.

  Chloe smiled. Cristián did not. He was too tense.

  Parris noted his tension for later consideration. “Anyway, an hour after we had got moving, we ran into Nicolás Escobedo.” She hesitated. Could she admit aloud what had happened next? It still smarted each time she thought about it…

  *

  PARRIS AND HER TEAM HAD worked their way silently through the trees and undergrowth, heading for the coordinates their orders told them to find and await fresh instructions. It was a typical hide-and-wait scenario. They were being placed on the game board to be called into action when needed. A dozen other units would be positioned across the island. The main American assault forces had made beachhead far to the south, to join the Vistarian Loyalists pushing up to the city from the south end of the elongated island.

  Parris and her group had been moving through this same landscape only three days ago. For Parris, the whole world had altered in the meantime. Even the green paradise didn’t look the same. Her perceptions had undergone a radical shift since then.

  She had told no one in the group about Adán, yet. There would be a natural time when she could drop the information. Or not. Sharing the fact of her marriage with them wasn’t mandatory. It had no bearing on her abilities as a leader, which was all they should care about.

  Except her men operated better if they could trust her. Withholding news of that magnitude would make them wonder what else she was keeping from them, for they would learn about the marriage from another source.

  It would be worse if they learned about it from the media, whom Adán had assured her would sniff out the fact eventually.

  She saw the man-shape from the corner of her eye as she moved past the trunk of a huge banyan tree. He held himself flattened against the trunk, waiting for her to move ahead so he could take her from behind.

  Too late to reach for her knife. She gripped the M-16 by the middle of the barrel and rammed it into his chest as hard as she could. She spun out of reach of his hands.

  He pushed himself off the tree and launched himself at her. He gripped her throat and as he sailed past her, the grip tore her backward. He dropped to the ground and tossed her over his shoulder like wet washing—and she was wearing an eighty-pound backpack.

  Parris just had enough time to brace herself for the impact. She landed heavily on her belly. It would have winded her if she hadn’t clenched every muscle in her torso. It still stunned her for a fraction of a second, which was all he needed. He flipped her onto her back, pack and all. His knife rested against her throat. Dark blue eyes stared into hers. “Tell them to back off. Right. Now.”

  Parris swallowed. Over his shoulder, she could see her men forming a circle around them, their rifles up and ready.

  The whole thing had taken maybe two seconds.

  Jesus Christ.

  She looked up at the man. Red hair glinted in the filtered light under the canopy. She frowned. “Escobedo?” she breathed.

  “Give the order,” he demanded, his voice flat.

  Parris let her resentment go. “Stand down,” she told her men. “He won’t hurt me. We’re related.”

  No one moved. Not even Nick Escobedo, although his eyes widened a fraction. “You’re Parris Graves?”

  “In person.” She waited.

  Escobedo took the knife away. He held up both hands, the knife in one, so her men could see them. Then he pushed the knife back into the scabbard on his belt and got up. He held out his hand toward her. “Not exactly how I thought this meeting would go.” He helped her up.

  “Another Vistarian you just happen to know, Captain?” Donaldson, the mouthy one, asked.

  Parris pointed to Ramirez, then spun her finger. He nodded and turned away, his trigger finger on the guard of his rifle, to keep watch. She beckoned everyone else in. “Hunker down a sec,” she told them.

  Escobedo hunkered with them.

  “Everyone, this is Nicolás Escobedo. Until twenty-four hours ago he was the president pro tem of Loyalist Vistaria.”

  Silence ticked for a heartbeat or two.

  “Shit on a stick,” someone breathed.

  Escobedo grinned. “How much do you know about the current situation?” he asked her.

  “More than you,” she said.

  He considered that. “You have the American perspective, too,” he concluded. “Then I don’t have to explain myself.”

  Parris pursed her lips. “You’re here on Vistaria. There is only one place you can be heading. You’re going to spring your wife.”

  “They’ve got his wife?” Jonesy breathed. “Shit.”

  “In the Palace,” Escobedo told her men, his glance moving from man to man. “It’s been confirmed.”

  “By yourself?” Locke said. Disbelief tinged his voice.

  Parris halted the impulse to remind him Escobedo had just tossed her around like a rag doll. Her chest and stomach were still throbbing.

  “I know the Palace inside-out,” Escobedo told Locke. “I lived in it most of my adult life.”

  “Aren’t Serrano and his senior lieutenants there now?” Odesky asked.

  “They are,” Escobedo said coolly. “I’ll do my best to take out as many as possible while I’m in there. I
f Serrano wanders into my sights, that would be a good thing.”

  “You’re aware there are three armies heading for the city?” Odesky said.

  “Which will keep Serrano occupied,” Escobedo said, a smile touching the corner of his mouth.

  The smile was echoed among her men. He’d won them over, just like that. Wow. He was as charismatic as Adán had described him. He radiated power, too, which her men would respond to.

  Escobedo looked at Parris. “Can we talk?”

  Parris nodded and got to her feet. Locke Rosa, too. “We’ll move off a hundred yards and watch out.”

  “Thanks,” Parris said.

  Locke signaled, then pointed. Everyone moved off in the direction he’d given. Odesky patted Ramirez’s shoulder and he joined them.

  Locke hesitated, his gaze swiveling to Escobedo, then back. “You married the guy? Caballero?” he said, in English.

  “An hour before we left Los Alamitos.” She grimaced. “I was trying to figure out when to tell everyone.”

  “No wonder Escobedo downed you,” Locke said, which hurt, because it was the truth. Her mind hadn’t been properly in the game.

  Now it was.

  Escobedo seemed to follow the quick exchange just fine. She’d read in the profile which had been included in her briefing folder that his English was fluent.

  Locke touched a finger to the edge of his helmet and withdrew to where the others squatted, talking quietly. Ramirez and Jonesy stood with their backs to the group, scanning the trees ceaselessly.

  Parris cocked her rifle and rested it on her hip and looked at Escobedo. She raised her brow.

  “Probably just as well I wasn’t an Insurrecto,” he said, the same one-sided smile forming.

  “Enjoy the moment,” Parris told him. “There won’t be another.”

  “I believe you.” He paused. “I didn’t come across to Vistaria by myself. There’s a civilian, Chloe Masters. She’s heading into the mountains to find someone. Cristián Peña. Did his name surface in your briefings?”

  Parris stretched for the name. “Duardo Peña’s brother? The one coordinating Loyalist communications on Vistaria?”

  “That one. He went dark twenty-four hours ago. The whole town vanished, Marie Celeste style.” Escobedo raised his brow at her, daring her to figure the rest out.

  “This Chloe Masters panicked and wants to find him now? Make sure he’s still breathing?”

  Escobedo nodded. “She’s smart in a dozen different ways although she has zero experience. If you come across her…” He hesitated. “This is likely the Insurrectos’ work—they’ve been striking at members of my family, using them as leverage. Adán was part of it.”

  Parris nodded. “I’ve never seen extortion used as a weapon of war. It seems…unclean, somehow.”

  “It’s definitely gray-hat,” Escobedo said. “It’s only possible in a war like this one, with a country as small as Vistaria. There are so few key players and we’re all connected. Leverage works in this case, as it neutralizes the key figures.”

  “Unless they take themselves off the board and let someone else step into their place. That was a gutsy move, Escobedo.”

  “Not that gutsy,” Escobedo told her. “I had to be forced into it. I would have launched the Blackhawks and gone in screaming death and mayhem, if Duardo hadn’t pinned me down and talked sense into me.” His smile was wry with self-knowledge. “You’ll be doing me a favor, if you can watch out for anyone else I’ve got tangled up in this affair because of my inability to think clearly.”

  “Like Chloe Masters,” Parris concluded. “We’re on squat-and-wait status,” she added. “It’s unlikely we’ll trip over her but if we do, I’ll help where I can.” She cocked her head. “Feeling guilty?”

  His brow lifted. “Yes. Does it show?”

  Parris pursed her lips. “No. Only, I can figure it from here. She maybe twisted your arm into bringing her over. Now she’s here, you’re wondering what you dumped her into the middle of.”

  “Something like that.” Escobedo patted the brown fatigue shirt he wore over a tee shirt and a Kevlar vest. He pulled out a cellphone. “Did Adán give you the magic cloak?”

  “The what?”

  He lifted a brow. “He’s loyal to a fault,” he muttered. “I think you’re safe, though. What’s your number?”

  Puzzled, Parris gave him her cellphone number. “Not that I bother even turning it on,” she added. “Not on mission.”

  “Now you can,” Escobedo told her. “I’m sending you an app which will self-install once you agree to it. It will hide your cellphone from everything.”

  “Impossible.”

  He glanced at her from under his brow. “Once you’ve got to know Chloe, you’ll take that back. I figure you’re Intelligence of one stripe or another. Have your analysts mentioned the lack of electronic traffic on the Loyalist side of the war?”

  Parris jaw slackened. “I’ll be damned,” she breathed. “They figured it was because no one had phones or computers to talk with.”

  Escobedo hefted his cellphone, then put it back in his pocket. His smile was warm.

  “Thanks.”

  “You have my number now,” he told her. “If any of my extended family or Chloe move onto your radar, tell me.”

  “Still leading, Escobedo?”

  “It’s a hard habit to let go,” he admitted. His brow lifted. “As you know.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed. She hefted the rifle. “I’d offer to help you with your suicide mission, only, well…you know how it goes.”

  “You have your orders,” he finished and nodded. “This must be a one-man thing, anyway.”

  She held out her hand. “It was good to meet you, Nicolás Escobedo.”

  He looked at the hand, then at her. “Sorry, but you’re a part of the family now, so…” He hugged her. It was brief, but warm. Then he let her go.

  Parris felt dazed and realized she was grinning stupidly.

  “Good to meet you, too, Parris,” he told her. He glanced at his watch. “I have to be in the city by tomorrow noon, so…”

  “What happens at tomorrow noon?” Parris asked.

  “If General Peña has his way, the Vistarian Loyalist Army will march up to the gates of the Palace with American and Mexican forces at their back. I want to get there before they tear Serrano’s head from his body.”

  “You want to see it?”

  “I want to do it myself,” Nick said, his tone flat.

  Parris shivered.

  *

  “WE SEPARATED, AS NICK WAS heading south-west, while we were moving directly in-land,” Captain Graves finished up. “It was a surprise when I came upon your trail, Chloe. You were moving west-north-west. I would have moved on, only Rockman, our tracker, spotted Insurrecto traces trailing you. That made it imperative we follow them, to find out what they were up to.”

  Chloe shivered. “I had no idea. I couldn’t hear anything. I didn’t see anyone.”

  “You weren’t supposed to,” Cristián murmured, his gaze on the Captain. “If you had seen anyone, you wouldn’t have come near this place.”

  Chloe sighed. “Not in a million,” she agreed.

  One of Captain Graves’ men came and bent over her shoulder and murmured in her ear. She murmured back.

  He glanced at Chloe and Cristián and nodded, then moved away.

  Graves got to her feet. “I have a call to take. Excuse me.”

  She moved away, looking small compared to the soldier beside her. Her red hair glinted gold in the rays of the early morning sun.

  “She is nothing like I thought Adán Caballero would be drawn to,” Chloe murmured.

  “She is exactly his type,” Cristián said. “Steel spine, no bullshit.”

  Chloe did not understand the sour note in his voice. She shifted on the dirt to face him. “Okay, explain it to me.”

  His gaze shifted to her face, then away. “Explain what?”

  “You knew I would come to find y
ou or you wouldn’t have put the sentries out there to wait for when I showed up. Now you’re acting like…like you wish I wasn’t here.”

  “Why are you here?” he demanded, his gaze coming back to her face once more.

  “You have to ask?” she whispered, hurt.

  His eyes! They were clear and sharp and mesmerizing, in person. She had liked them before. Now they were even better. They weren’t black. They were a dozen shades lighter than black, a gray color which was neither light nor dark, but enticingly different.

  “Cristián!” someone shouted. “Do we have time for breakfast?”

  Cristián gave a soft curse under his breath. “Yes!” he shouted back. “Coffee, too.”

  A soft cheer sounded.

  Chloe glanced at him. “Coffee is a treat?” she asked.

  “There’s not enough of it for everyone,” he said shortly. “We stretch it out. Every second or third day only.”

  “You’re leading these people,” Chloe breathed, as she put it together.

  “Someone has to,” he said flatly. He got to his feet. “We can’t talk here. They’ll tap my shoulder every thirty seconds now everyone is awake.” His scowl deepened. “They forget everything,” he added, sounding peeved.

  “They have you to remember it for them,” Chloe replied.

  “Come on. I know where I can disappear to for a while. We can talk there.”

  *

  PARRIS TOOK THE LAPTOP FROM Locke and settled it on her knees. “Colonel?” she acknowledged. Strickland was wearing full dress uniform, she noted.

  Strickland nodded to her. “Are we secure, Captain?”

  She looked up at Locke, who nodded.

  “I have Lieutenant Locke within earshot, sir. No one else.”

  “Ask Lieutenant Locke to move out of hearing range, Captain,” Strickland said.

  Cold tendrils of alarm touched her. She glanced at Locke again. He nodded and moved twenty meters along the gully and put his back to her.

  Parris looked back at the screen. “Just you and me, sir,” she told Strickland.

  Strickland grimaced. “I’m afraid it is not just you and me, Captain.” He stepped to one side of the frame. Behind him was a long conference table filled with men and women in uniform and in civilian suits. Sitting at the far end was…