Freedom Fighters

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  He looked up. “We take it with us. Search the other car, take anything worthwhile that isn’t too heavy. Let’s move. I want to reach the camp in thirty minutes. I don’t want to be anywhere near this train when the Insurrectos find it.”

  He bent and picked up the handles at either end of the long flat box and lifted…or tried to. He got one end up, then dropped it. “Well, that’s interesting.” he murmured to himself.

  He looked up as Angelo jumped back onto the car.

  “The driver was an Insurrecto, doc,” Angelo said. “Uniform and everything.”

  “Seven guards,” Garrett muttered. “Angelo, you and Carmen take the box first. We’ll take turns carrying it.”

  “Sure, doc,” Angelo said and settled his rifle over his shoulder.

  Carmen picked up a handle and Angelo gripped the other. They hoisted the box.

  “Oh, holy crap!” Carmen swore in English. “This thing is heavy!”

  “The workout will do you good,” Garrett said and jumped down to the ground.

  There was nothing of interest in the second car except for tins of soup and a camp stove for warming the soup upon, plus a dozen boxes and crates. They took the gas for the stove, which they could use for their own stoves, and the soup.

  Garrett moved through the car, checking the manifest tags on the cartons and crates. “Company records. From the mine on Las Piedras Grandes,” he said to himself. “That makes sense.”

  “It does?” Carmen asked.

  “Let’s move it!” Garrett called to everyone in the car, ignoring her.

  She wrinkled her nose at him and jumped down onto the rocky ground where Angelo was waiting with the metal box.

  She braced herself. The others in the team always rolled their eyes when her lack of strength slowed them down. They didn’t make allowances for her being female, because Garrett wouldn’t have tolerated it.

  Carmen would have to haul her end of the load for as long and as quickly as Angelo did, plus keep up with the others.

  She lasted a quarter of a mile into the bush, then dropped her end of the box with a crash. “I don’t care what you think, I’m not carrying it another step. My fingers are crushed.”

  Garrett moved back along the line, grinning. “You lasted two hundred yards more than I thought you would.” He jerked his chin at Archie. “Grab the end, my friend.”

  Archie grinned. He was one of the strongest in the group. He picked up the other end with a grunt, his brows raising. Garrett lifted his end with what looked like no effort at all. “Princess,” he murmured as he passed Carmen.

  Rain fell in big, fat stinging drops. “Perfect,” Carmen said with a sigh, looking up at the bit of sky she could see through the tree tops. “Just perfect.”

  * * * * *

  They reached the outer sentries for the camp with two minutes to spare out of Garrett’s thirty minute deadline. The rain had become torrential, which cooled things off, although it made walking in the sucking mud difficult.

  It also diminished their hearing. They cocked their weapons without being ordered to, watched their flanks and kept checking behind. As they drew closer to the camp, their wariness increased. It wouldn’t do to lead someone to the camp itself.

  When the outer sentries challenged them, Garrett dropped the box into the mud and straightened, kneading his fingers. The metal handle was thin and the weight of the box made it dig into flesh, squashing it. Carmen’s fingers still tingled.

  Yet he picked up the box again, instead of swapping with someone fresh, surprising her. He wasn’t going to carry it all the way into the camp, was he? What was he trying to prove?

  Garrett kept his gaze ahead, the rain dripping from the brim of his hat, and strode ahead. Archie struggled to keep up with him, swapping his hands on the handle, his breath blowing heavily.

  When they reached the camp perimeter, no one emerged to greet them. The rain kept them indoors. The old monastery still housed a handful of Benedictine monks, even though most of the main building was in ruins.

  Carmen had discovered it was the monks’ philosophy to stay where they were and remain a part of the community. The monks had been trying to restore the buildings by hand, using local resources and charity.

  The war had ended their restoration work and the Insurrectos had halted their forays across the land to help villages and farmers in whatever way they could. Like everyone else in Vistaria, the monks had to have permission to leave their residence and travel anywhere. Travel permits were rarely issued.

  Carmen wondered if the Insurrectos had any idea they had made enemies of the Benedictine order. Although the monks would never pick up a weapon or use force against the Insurrectos, they found other ways to support the Loyalists, including letting Garrett’s unit use the ruins for their camp.

  In return, the monks enjoyed peace and security and everyone shared what food they had, including the produce from the monks’ garden plots.

  The eight of them moved into the big refectory. It was partially roofed at one end. It had gaping holes where the windows had once been. The roof and the smooth floor were civilized luxury compared to the squats and lean-tos they had used in the past. It was much, much better than the tarpaulins stretched between trees that Garrett had been using when Carmen had first stumbled into the camp, seven weeks ago.

  A fire burned at the enclosed end, which was a cheerful sight after the dismal day. Carmen was soaked to the skin. Standing in front of the fire, regardless of how warm the day, was appealing.

  She shucked off her backpack and put it on the ground next to her sleeping bag.

  Sleeping on hard ground was another thing she never thought she would do. Now, though, her measure of a cozy bed was a sleeping bag for warmth when she needed it, a mosquito net and something to keep off the rain. She didn’t have the net yet, although sleeping close to the fire kept most of the mosquitos away. Bliss was relative.

  It wasn’t home, just like everywhere she had lived for ten years wasn’t home. Even the apartment in Boston she had rented for over five years while completing her degree hadn’t been home. The air had been too cool and crisp, the sun too weak and the accents she heard all day too foreign. Too English.

  For now, though, this patch of concrete, marked out by her sleeping back, was her space.

  She pulled off her jacket with some trouble and hung it over a brick projecting out of the wall above her gear. She untucked her shirt from her jeans and flapped it to get it to unstick from her body.

  The fire beckoned.

  Before she could reach the flames, Garrett intercepted her. He’d removed the hat, which made his gray eyes stand out and the anger in them more evident.

  “A word,” he said and headed for the far corner of the ruins. Daylight was running out fast and the corners were full of shadows. No one lingered there when the fire was available for all.

  Carmen sighed and followed him to the private corner. “What have I done now?”

  He pulled her into the corner, his fingers over her wrist. “Keep your voice down.”

  He’d removed the poncho. It would have been as sodden as her jacket. The shirt he wore beneath was a button-through cotton garment that stuck to his body as much as hers did.

  The open collar showed the start of more scars on his chest. Carmen always wondered how far the scars descended, when she saw them. There was no way she would ever ask, though. Garrett didn’t welcome personal questions.

  “Did you check that the electronics survived the downpour?” he demanded.

  She lifted her chin to look him in the eye. Garrett was taller than her, which made him very tall. “Of course. They’re fine. The backpack is water proof.”

  “Water resistant,” he corrected. “That doesn’t mean moisture can’t leak in.” He tried to push his hair away from his face, only it was soaked and didn’t cooperate. He dropped his hand with an impatient gesture. “We risked exposing ourselves in town because you insisted we set up an Internet connection. I hope
you think it was worth it.”

  “It will be,” she said. “We can’t go on shooting random Insurrectos and hijacking trains. It’s not getting us anywhere. We need a strategy, one that will align with whatever the Loyalists have planned. For that, we need to talk to them.”

  Garrett shook his head. “The Internet is the most insecure network in the world. Anyone can use it. IP addresses can be figured out by a three-year-old.”

  “It’s not perfect,” Carmen said. “But it works and there’s no other alternative.” She raised her brow. “Unless you’ve got a secure, untraceable satellite phone stashed somewhere you haven’t told me.”

  From closer to the fire, loud metallic banging sounded. Angelo and Efraín and the others crouched around the metal box. Ledo had a chisel and hammer and was working at the locks.

  Garrett ignored Carmen’s question. “We wasted a whole day on this computer business. Just make sure it all works. Check with Abbot Sergio to see if they will let you charge the battery with their current. And another thing…” He glanced around to see who was listening. “Tell your boyfriend to stop feeling you up when we’re working.”

  Carmen’s mouth dropped open in surprise. Then fury wiped away the surprise. “Are you implying that either of us was unprofessional?”

  “Not you. You’re the cold-hearted princess. I saw Angelo’s hand on your shoulder. I won’t have it, Carmen. Not on my unit.”

  “Oh, a hand on my shoulder,” she said. “That threatens the security of the nation.”

  “It’s a weakness,” Garrett said. “While he’s thinking about you, he’s not thinking about security and neither are you.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  Garrett stepped close to her and Carmen drew in a breath, surprised. He looked down at her. “He was this close.” His voice was soft. “Look me in the eye and tell me what you see in your peripheral vision.”

  She glared, pissed as hell. She couldn’t believe Garrett was micro-managing her like this.

  “No, lock gazes with me,” Garrett demanded. “I’m trying to demonstrate something, so stop steaming and look.”

  Carmen looked. She kept her gaze on his gray eyes, defiant. “I can see movement from my right. The fire flickering.” The fire she wanted to be standing next to.

  “What’s behind me?” Garrett demanded.

  She looked over his shoulder—or tried to. He was taller than her. She couldn’t see anything. Her anger cooled a fraction. “It’s not like we were making out,” she said defensively.

  “For a fraction of a second, your mind wasn’t on the job.” Garrett’s tone was cooler, too. “That’s all the time the enemy needs to step out and take aim. When are you going to get it through your head that I know what I’m talking about?”

  Now she was embarrassed. “You’re right.” It took all her courage to admit that. “It won’t happen again.”

  Garrett nodded. “You’ve got an instinct for this,” he said. “You’ve got natural talents and you’re smart. Don’t let a stupid mistake get you killed. I don’t have enough smart lieutenants I can rely on.”

  “Jeez, Garrett, is that a compliment?”

  “And then you have to open your mouth one last time.” Garrett sighed.

  The metal gave a loud groan as it gave way. A cheer went up.

  Carmen and Garrett hurried to where everyone was bent over the box.

  Angelo threw the lid back. Someone whistled.

  “Man…is that what I think it is?” Ledo said. He ran his fingertips reverently across the bright slabs of metal in the box.

  “Silver,” Garrett said.

  “The mine is closed,” someone pointed out.

  “Not anymore,” Garrett said. “They’re pulling silver out of it, somehow.”

  “It’s not even their mine,” Carmen said. “Astra Corp leased the mineral rights on The Big Rock for ninety-nine years.”

  “I don’t think Serrano has any lawyers around to tell him that,” Garrett said. “Not that he would care about the legality. The Insurrectos clearly think the mine and the silver in it is theirs. Spoils of war.” He kicked the lid back closed. “Why do they want it? That’s the million dollar question.” He glanced at Carmen, his eyes narrowed. “Your Internet thing will be useful, after all.”

  Gracia stepped up beside Garrett. She had deep, dark circles beneath her eyes from lack of sleep and her black hair showed premature gray streaks. Her face, though, was the calmest Carmen had ever seen.

  “Doctor, Zuzen is getting worse.” Gracia glanced about the fire and lowered her voice even more. “I don’t think he’ll last much longer.” Her voice was rough and naturally low, adding to her aura of peace.

  Zuzen had taken a bullet in the upper stomach a week ago. His screams of pain had kept everyone awake, until the monks offered an herb from their gardens that would make him drowsy and lessen the pain. They were so low on pain killers that only the worst cases received them.

  When Garrett had reached for the little medical box that carried the few supplies they had, it had been Gracia who argued that Zuzen should not get one of the precious doses, for he would not live. Gracia’s ruthless expediency had shocked Carmen.

  Garrett nodded at Gracia now. “I’ll be there in a minute.” The wounded and sick were kept inside the monastery, on the few proper beds the monks had to spare. When Gracia dropped from exhaustion, the monks would provide simple care until Garrett returned from whatever mission he was on.

  Carmen watched Garrett head into the monastery, following Gracia. Carmen was hungry and exhausted. All she wanted to do was dry out, then curl up in her sleeping bag. Garrett had worked harder than her this day, yet his day hadn’t ended. Now he had to turn back into a doctor and spend the night taking care of people.

  If he wasn’t such an asshole she might have felt sorry for him.

  Chapter Two

  The young woman called Minnie seemed to have an endless supply of energy. She buzzed around Olivia like a small, determined whirlwind. However, things got done around her.

  Minnie had knocked on the door of the big bedroom not long after Daniel had dressed in borrowed clothes, kissed Olivia on the cheek and told her he would be back…he had a wedding to arrange.

  When the knock came thirty minutes after he had left, Olivia called out a tentative “¿Hola?”

  The door pushed open. A petite woman with short black hair, pale skin and enormous brown eyes stepped into the room, carrying a tray the same size as her. The woman was clearly pregnant, although not yet in the last trimester.

  Olivia sat up, then winced and hissed in pain as her wounded fingers pressed against the mattress. Then she had to grab the sheet and hold it up against her, for she was naked beneath it.

  The woman put the tray next to Olivia on the bed. “I’m Minnie,” she said in English. “The breakfast tray is because you’re wounded and technically bed-ridden. I’m here because Duardo said you wanted a wedding inside the hour.”

  Olivia could smell the coffee on the tray and her mouth flooded with saliva. “Hello, Minnie. It’s good to meet you, although I’m confused. Duardo is arranging the wedding?”

  Minnie picked up the coffee cup and held it toward to her. “I just met Daniel. Duardo never told me about him, so Daniel was a big surprise. Although Daniel is covert everything, so I understand Duardo not saying anything about him, because Duardo is big on procedures. Well, all Vistarian men seem to have that honor thing going on, which is what I love about him…that and other things.” She winked.

  Oliva felt winded. She sipped her coffee as she cast about for a response. It was good coffee. “Daniel told me about Duardo,” she said, “although he didn’t mention you.”

  Minnie grinned. “He didn’t know about me until late last night. Duardo says Daniel took the news surprisingly well. I know they’re brothers, sort of, and that makes us sisters, sort of. If you’re determined to be married before noon, then I’m your girl.”

  “You are?”

&n
bsp; “Sure. Besides being married to Duardo, I’m also the civilian quarter-master around here. I can stand in as Matron of Honor, if you want one. I’m also the one who will pull this wedding together in under two hours. The priest is already on his way here. I wanted to see how tall you are. Daniel got a baffled look on his face when I asked.”

  Olivia couldn’t help but smile. “Men tend to do that as soon as the talk turns to anything to do with appearance. I’m five ten. Why do you need to know?”

  “You want to get married naked?” Minnie asked. “My cousin Calli is tall. I’ll see what I can find in her closet that is white, or do you want another color?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Anything at all will be perfect.” She reached for the muffin sitting on the tray and picked it up carefully with her bandaged fingers. It hurt to put pressure on them, although not enough to drop the muffin. “I’m starving,” she confessed and bit into it.

  “Nick said you’d been through a lot,” Minnie said. “I saw what happened on TV. It was awful.”

  Olivia nodded and swallowed. “It was and we’d still be there, picked off one by one, except for what Daniel did.”

  “Is that why you want to marry him?”

  Olivia glanced at her, startled. “It’s the last thing on the list of reasons, but it’s one of them,” she said.

  Minnie stood. “Don’t mind me. I get direct sometimes. Just tell me to shut up if you need to. I won’t mind. Now, I will see about finding you something to get married in. Someone will be by in a minute with some water for you to wash with.”

  That began a hurried preparation that lasted a little over two hours. Minnie came and went, always rushing, always talking.

  Her cousin Calli, whom Minnie had mentioned, also stepped into the room to introduce herself. “I’m currently Nick’s Chief of Staff,” Calli told her as Minnie pressed trousers and dresses up against Olivia, checking for size and length. “We all do double duty around here.”