“Exactly.”
Garrett glanced around the café, making it seem casual. “He may be flinching already,” he said quietly. He dipped into his medical bag. Then he straightened and placed something between Carmen and him. He kept his hand over it. “Give that to him,” he told her.
She slid her hand underneath and paused to adjust to the weight. It was heavy and cool to the touch. Metal.
Silver.
Her heart thudding, Carmen let her gaze flicker around the room to see if anyone monitored them.
She put the bar in her lap, then picked it up with her other hand, all while keeping her gaze up and moving around. She didn’t look at Nemesis as she put the ingot on the seat next to him.
His hand came down over it. “Where did you get it?” he demanded.
Carmen looked down at the seat. The ingot had disappeared.
Garrett told Nemesis about the train they had hijacked, the armed guards and the box of silver, using lots of idioms and metaphors. Even if anyone did understand English in this café, the chances were good they wouldn’t be able to follow the jargon and slang.
Nemesis stared at the table top.
Carmen sipped her spiced coffee, which was excellent, and waited.
Nemesis took in a big, slow breath. “This could be something,” he agreed. “It marries up with information I got from one of the Nuevo Sevilla groups.”
“The Insurrectos have reopened the silver mine on The Big Rock,” Garrett said, using the English rendition of Las Piedras Grandes, so it wouldn’t catch anyone’s attention.
Nemesis nodded. “The smelter was damaged in the first wave of fighting that broke out on the rock. Sabotaged. Now the Insurrectos are bringing silver into the city to work it. They’re using the original, small test smelter on the grounds of the university. There are many reasons why they might want to get their hands on stamped ingots of silver.”
“They’re already taxing the people to death,” Carmen said hotly. “They’ve hiked basic taxes up fifteen percent in the last few weeks. Why would they want more?”
“Bribes. Persuasion.” Nemesis shrugged.
“To back international loans,” Garrett said.
Nemesis leaned forward and dropped his voice. “The top dog needs to prove to the world that Vistaria has a viable economy. If he can do that, then he can get loans, invite investors, support local businesses. It will stimulate the economy in a way that will make Vistarians think he’s doing just great, because money and goods and services will flow. It will entrench the Insurrectos like dried concrete.”
“Except it’s propped up by smoke and mirrors,” Garrett said, his voice flat, even angry. “Six months, a year from now, the economy will collapse through its own weight and they’ll be even worse off than they are now. Vistaria will be mired in national and international debt, with no economy to pay it off with.”
“Besides, the mine isn’t theirs,” Carmen said hotly. “It belongs to the corporation in that other country.” She couldn’t say America or Astra Corp aloud—it would be noticed, amongst their English.
“I don’t think the top dog cares about that,” Nemesis told her.
“Spoils of war,” Garrett added. “If it comes out he’s using the mine, he’ll claim it was nationalized when he freed the nation from the Loyalist yoke.”
“The corporation paid billions for those mineral rights,” Carmen said. “It was going to keep Vistaria on its feet for years.”
“That Vistaria already had an infrastructure,” Garrett pointed out. “The stimulation to the economy was real and sustainable. It just hadn’t kicked in when the bad guys took over. Now, there’s no industry, no businesses at all and no one has any money. An economy propped up by a nationalized mining industry that uses military labor instead of local labor will topple because even though the silver is floating corporate loans, nothing flows back to the people.”
Nemesis smiled in a way that held no mirth at all. “It will look good on paper, though.”
“Why were the ingots going back to The Big Rock?” Carmen asked. “Surely they need them in the city, or to be shipped out of the country, to show to the corporations they want to tap?”
Both men were silent, looking at each other.
“To make it look like the mine is fully functional,” Garrett said, as if he was finishing a sentence that hadn’t been spoken.
Nemesis nodded. “Fly in the money men, show them around. Everything squeaky clean and running smoothly.”
Carmen put her cup down. “Not just the money men,” she added softly. “Diplomats and politicians, too.”
“Mexico,” Garrett said flatly. “They need them as allies now that they’ve alienated the States.”
The silence that gripped the table was thick with tension.
Nemesis leaned forward again and dropped his voice. “You took one shipment from them. I guarantee a replacement shipment will be arranged. You need to stop that train, no matter what.”
“We could blow the line,” Garrett said. “Slow them down.”
“Not certain enough,” Nemesis said. “They could fly it down if they know the tracks are compromised.”
“They don’t have any aircraft left,” Carmen said.
Both men looked at her.
“How do you know that?” Nemesis asked.
“I spent nearly twenty-four hours studying the back of the palace, about six weeks ago. There used to be a fleet of helicopters and a small Cessna kept there, for anyone to use as needed. They were all gone. The army had a small fleet of helicopters, too, only they were all brought down and destroyed in the first wave of the revolution.” Carmen grimaced.
“The Insurrectos stole all the ground-to-air missile launchers from the bases, before the fighting broke out,” Nemesis added.
Garrett’s brow rose. “So they can’t take it by air.”
“Road?” Carmen asked.
“I’ll worry about the road,” Nemesis said. “You worry about the train. If the groups in the city hear anything about a shipment, I’ll get word to you.” He glanced up and around. “Time to leave.”
There were five Insurrectos hovering outside the café, reading the menu in the window.
Nemesis got to his feet. He had no pack, no bag. He must have put the ingot into one of his jacket pockets. It was an ordinary leather jacket, with tabs and zippered pockets. It didn’t hang lower on one side.
The Insurrectos pushed in through the door, making the little bell chime, just as Nemesis reached it.
He didn’t back up. Instead, he seemed to melt around them and to one side. He slid into an opening between them, through the door and out, in about four steps. It looked like he had flowed right through them, invisible. None of the Insurrectos even looked at him.
“Third cup,” Garrett murmured.
Carmen picked up the cup Nemesis had been using and held it between her knees, below the level of the table.
Garrett turned on the seat so his whole body was facing her. It put his back to the Insurrectos.
“Keep your gaze down,” he said, his voice a murmur. “Don’t meet their eyes.”
Her heart was thudding, abrupt adrenaline overload making her feel sick. She shook her hair forward, so her features were disguised and looked down at her coffee.
The Insurrectos were looking for a place to sit, only all the bigger tables and booths were full. There were only tiny tables-for-two left.
Carmen was uncomfortably aware that her blouse had slid down one shoulder again. She reached for it, intending to pull it up.
Garrett grabbed her hand. “No, don’t draw attention.” He pulled her hand away, bringing it back between them.
Carmen looked up at him. The Insurrectos could recognize her at any moment. There would be a shout and guns would be cocked. People would start screaming and in the panic that came after that, any of the Insurrectos could shoot her and claim her to be an enemy of the state.
She let out a breath that shuddered.
The Insurrectos were heading toward their table.
Carmen kept looking at Garrett, trying not to react to the Insurrectos’ approach.
Garrett’s gaze was steady, his gray eyes deep pools of limpid calm. How had she not noticed his eyes before? Of course, she had seen them, yet now with his clean-shaved cheeks, they stood out. They beckoned.
She wasn’t aware of leaning toward him until his mouth met hers. His lips were soft. There was a firmness beneath them. He pressed against her lips and Carmen gasped into his mouth. Her entire body came to high alert, all her nerves sizzling. Her adrenaline surge was nothing in comparison.
Her heart kept thudding, this time with an unexpected, powerful need.
“Excuse me, Doctor…?”
Garrett let her go. His gaze met hers. “Now you’re embarrassed,” he murmured in English, then turned to face the Insurrecto. “Yes, officer?”
The man was a mere sergeant. He was unshaved, overweight and Carmen thought she could smell him from across the table.
She covered her face with one hand, as if she was dying of embarrassment over having been interrupted kissing in public.
“We want your table, doctor. It is the only one that will seat us all. You can find a private room for your seduction, instead of sullying the world with your distasteful conduct.”
Carmen lowered the coffee cup between her knees to the floor, then pushed it under the seat with her foot, while she hid her face against Garrett’s shoulder, her humiliation complete.
Garrett slid along the seat, pulling her with him. “Of course. Of course. Let me just…” He leaned down and picked up the medical bag.
“Show me your bag,” the sergeant demanded.
Garrett stood with his back to Carmen. She was blocked from sight of all but one of them, standing behind the others. The Insurrecto was reading a menu, not at all interested in the little drama happening right in front of him.
An unearthly hush gripped the café. Carmen glimpsed white, strained faces and wide eyes as she slid farther along the seat until she was just behind Garrett and hidden by his body.
Garrett put the bag on the table and opened it up so it gaped, showing all the contents in one glance.
The Insurrecto pawed through the bag and picked up a bottle of tablets and shook it. “What is this?”
“Antibiotics. For infection.”
“What sort of infection?” The intensity in his question made Carmen wonder if it was as idle as it seemed.
“All sorts of infection,” Garrett said.
From just beyond the edge of Garrett’s body, Carmen could see the sergeant’s hand holding the bottle. He pushed the bottle into his pocket. “Get out of here and take your whore with you.”
Garrett picked up her hand, took his bag with the other and stepped around the Insurrectos, bringing her with him.
It cleared the way for the Insurrectos to slide into the booth, their rifles clattering unmusically against the table edge.
With her back to them, Carmen straightened up, as Garrett dropped Vistarian currency in front of the cash register attendant. He picked up her hand again and pulled her out of the café.
She breathed in deep lungfuls of air. Trembling started up, making her breath shake.
“Ten minutes more,” Garrett told her. “Then you can fall apart.”
She nodded. She was glad he didn’t let go of her hand.
Chapter Six
Joshua Benning hugged Nick, thumping him on the back, while Olivia stood back, trying to put names and relationships together. No one seemed to mind stepping around the two men. This was Dulles Airport. Greetings and farewells were part of the fabric of the building.
Nick had a convoluted family and she had not seen him greet anyone other than family with such familiarity. With Joshua Benning, he leaned into the hug, looking as pleased as Joshua.
They stepped away from each other. Nick looked at Olivia and held out his hand. “This is my…uncle. Or cousin. We haven’t sorted that out yet. Joshua Benning, Vice President of Intergovernmental Relations at Astra Corp.” He glanced at Joshua. “Congratulations on the promotion, by the way. This Olivia Davenport Castellano, the new Ambassador for Vistaria to the United States.”
“Olivia, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Joshua Benning said, taking her hand in a firm grip. “Are you a long-lost cousin, too?”
“An honorary one,” Nick said, “but definitely family. Once we win back Vistaria, I’ll explain the family connection to you.”
Joshua looked at his watch. “My flight back to L.A. leaves in two hours. We should find a seat somewhere and trade news.”
Nick raised his brow. “This really is a flying visit, then.”
“I’m here because your message said urgent.”
“I appreciate you dropping everything for me. You’ll be glad you did, though.” Nick caught at his shoulder. “Let’s find that seat.”
They found three stools at a bar and snagged them. Nick ordered scotch, neat, for all of them and pulled out his phone while Joshua stretched kinks out, between them.
“Make it Johnny Walker Blue,” Josh said. “I’m buying. You can take the bottle back with you to the hotel.”
Nick raised his brow and looked at the barman.
“We have Blue,” the barman confirmed. “For a bottle of that price, we would need payment up front.”
Joshua pulled out his wallet and dropped a credit card on the bar. “There you go.”
The barman nodded and went away to get the boxed bottle and open it.
“Expense account?” Nick asked.
“Nope. I’m doing pretty well since I got back to the States. This is a personal thank you. How’s Minnie?”
“Radiant,” Nick said, “and as overworked as the rest of us.”
“I think she’s thriving wonderfully,” Olivia added. “She looks like a woman who has found her role in life.”
Joshua blew out his breath. “That’s good to hear.”
Nick had been paging through his phone. Now he laid the phone in front of Joshua. “Recognize that?”
Joshua picked up the phone and studied it. He pulled glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on and studied it closely. “I’d say it was one of the test ingots we smelted when the mine on The Big Rock was starting to roll, only the seal on it is wrong.”
“Good guess,” Nick said. “That photo is what made me yell for you to come here. I didn’t want to risk sending it over a public phone network. It was a risk having it sent up from Vistaria. Serrano has opened up the mine, Josh. He’s going to use the silver to buy himself respectability.”
Joshua was silent for a long moment, absorbing the news. Then he blew out his cheeks. “Well, I knew the bugger was crazy. I guess this confirms it. He thinks he can get away with it?”
“What’s to stop him?” Nick asked, and Olivia looked at him, startled. It seemed to be an odd response for someone so driven and determined as Nick Escobedo.
“Well, you, of course,” Josh replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“It’s your mine,” Nick pointed out.
“We don’t have an army at our disposal.”
“And I don’t have any reserve capital to fund mine,” Nick said.
Joshua laughed. The chuckle began slow and soft, then evolved into a full hearted belly laugh that had people turning their heads to see what was so funny. He reached out for the glass of scotch the barman put in front of him and raised it. “You sneaky son of a bitch,” he said and sipped the scotch. He sighed. “I can’t give it to you interest free. Not even for family. They’d skin me alive.”
“You could give me a family discount,” Nick said. “Think how good you’ll look when you retrieve the company’s expensive asset for them.”
Joshua shook his head and looked at Oliva. “I told Nick he should hit up international corporatio
ns for a loan, months ago. Never thought he’d turn around and put the squeeze on me.”
Olivia smiled. “You have skin in the game, Joshua. Nick is giving you a chance to get your mine back.”
“Yeah, I know.” Joshua winked at her and turned back to Nick. “How much do you need?”
“Not nearly as much as you’ve already sunk into the mine,” Nick told him. “Twenty million.”
Joshua’s jaw dropped open. “Twenty million?”
“I have three Black Hawk helicopters I want to buy, just to begin.”
“I don’t know anything about military transport, but I suspect even one of them is a lot more than twenty million,” Josh replied.
“About fifteen million, new,” Nick said. “These are used and I can probably get them for about eight million each. I’ll use your money to put a goodwill deposit on them. About five million for the three, as we already have them in our possession. The rest will be used for equipment and supplies.”
“I had no idea war was so damned expensive,” Joshua muttered. He glanced at his watch. “How soon do you need it?”
“Today,” Nick said. “Olivia and I have been shopping all day. The bill is due by end of business.”
“There goes my sleep for the next twelve hours,” Joshua said philosophically. He almost sounded cheerful.
Chapter Seven
Carmen couldn’t sleep. She rested on top of her sleeping bag, under the mosquito net that Ledo had found at the markets. He’d bartered for a dozen of the nets, in exchange for his watch, which he saw as a win-win. “The watch loses time. Ten minutes every day. It was a good deal.”
The net allowed Carmen to sleep where the air reached her, rather than wrapping herself in the stifling bag, although the net itself halted some of the air flow. Everyone else in the camp slept, for the fire had burned low and the refectory was silent except for the occasional pop of embers.
It was the third night after their return from Valle Leñosa. Carmen hadn’t seen Garrett since he halted the Jeep at the back of the monastery, swung his long legs out and stalked off into the building. He had, she supposed, been working in the hospital.
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