“Live with you, you mean? A day at a time?”
“Yes…I guess that’s what I’m asking. No commitments for now, except to stay with me.”
His proposal was the epitome of non-commitment, except that he was tying her to him in a formal way that would cement…whatever this was. She sighed. “I guess I’m expecting too much from an unavailable guy.”
Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “You would run straight back into that storm if I wasn’t,” he said. “If I dropped to my knees right now and asked you to marry me as soon as we found a chaplain, you’d bolt.”
Her heart did lurch. Just a little. She licked her lips, which were dry. “Are you asking?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “I’d rather have you in my life, than destroying it.”
Relief touched her. Garrett knew her, better than anyone in the world. “We’re the same, aren’t we?”
“Unavailable, arrogant, stubborn and scared spitless of falling in love. I guess we screwed up the last bit.”
She nodded. “Would you…do you mind…” she began.
His brow raised.
“I want to kiss you,” she said, feeling absurdly shy. “Only it isn’t private here.”
Garrett wrapped his spare arm around her and drew her closer. “I guess we’ll have to get used to public declarations, won’t we?” He kissed her, right there in front of everyone.
Carmen didn’t notice the cheering and whistling and clapping until Garrett let her go.
Apparently, the Loyalist Army of Vistaria approved of her choice in men. The accolade warmed her and made her feel that for the first time, she was really and truly among people who cared.
The wind gusted, blowing her hair back into her face and Garrett pushed it aside once more. “Let’s head inside,” he said. “I want to grab that alcove again before someone else does.”
They turned and headed for the smelter shed door, as most of the soldiers scattered around the watery earth were doing. Garrett didn’t let go of her hand and Carmen had a hard time keeping the silly smile off her face.
Chapter Sixteen
The hurricane blew itself out seven hours later. The second half of the storm brought not just wind but driving rain and hail that thundered on the tin roof, making even simple thoughts difficult to hold on to. Just past midnight, the roof of the shed tore away with a shriek of metal. Torrential rain poured in on them. It was like being in a shower fully clothed. Garrett just tightened his arms around her and hung on. It was impossible to speak and be heard. Only touch was left to them, so Carmen clung to him without reserve.
The roof was not the only casualty. From beyond the sturdy concrete walls, more heavy objects tore themselves to shreds in the wind. No one dared to look out beyond the heavy steel doors.
Because there was no roof, no one failed to notice the arrival of dawn, which coincided with the wind dropping to a gusty breeze. The rain stopped and the thick clouds overhead turned to a white color.
There was too much cloud to see the sun emerge. When it was light enough, Duardo Peña and three of his men eased open the shed doors, their guns in their other hands, and reconnoitered the compound. Fifteen minutes later they returned and threw open the doors.
Carmen was one of the first people to step through the doors. Her wet jeans and shirt chafed and she was stiff from sitting and lying on sopping concrete for hours. Her bones ached and her muscles throbbed.
The air outside was fresh and clean and normal. She sniffed, smelling the salt of the ocean. Seagulls cawed overhead and puddles were everywhere. She gasped, for she was looking where the rest of the administrative buildings had been. There was nothing left but concrete pads and stumps of plywood. The wreckage, most of it, had piled up against the wall of the smelter shed. She spotted more of it scattered across the open areas, where the wind or the waves had dumped it.
“Where are the Insurrectos?” she said aloud.
Duardo turned to look at her. “If they took shelter in the admin buildings…” He shook his head. “If they were smart, they ran to the cliffs, dug themselves a trench and sat in it, out of the way of flying debris and the water. We’ll sweep the island. They can’t get off Las Piedras Grandes. If any are left, we’ll find them.”
The general standing next to him bent and touched his toes then straightened his back with a groan. “I think I’ll help with that,” he said. “Movement would be good. For all of us.”
“It’s so quiet,” someone said from close behind her. Carmen turned and saw Nemesis there.
“I don’t know your name,” she told him. “But I’ve figured out we’re cousins.”
Garrett snorted. “Another cousin,” he muttered.
Carmen hid her grin.
“Daniel,” Nemesis told her. “That’s something you should forget you know until the war is done.”
“Daniel Castellano,” she said, putting the two names together. “I have no idea who that is,” she added.
Daniel grinned. “You trained her well,” he told Garrett.
“Glad you think I had anything to do with training her at all,” Garrett said gruffly.
Carmen let herself smile this time. She couldn’t help it. She looked around the area. “It’s so quiet,” she breathed. “And white,” she added, for the cloud overhead seemed to merge into the dull, washed out and flattened landscape. Wherever there was water, it reflected the white clouds. It felt as though the entire world was white.
The quiet was broken by the roar of a helicopter, broken into staccato echoes by the rotors. She clapped her hands over her ears and looked up. It was a big transport helicopter of the type she had seen in countless news items covering wars in the Middle East and Afghanistan. The Vistarian army didn’t use them.
Yet hanging out the door and waving was a familiar face.
“Nick!” she called, delighted. She waved, even though she knew he couldn’t possibly hear her and probably couldn’t see her either, from that height.
The helicopter turned its nose until it was broadside to the shed, then dropped down until the tires settled onto the muddy ground. The engine cut out and the rotors slowed.
Nick jumped down to the ground. “We have food!” he called out.
There was a wild cheer, some clapping and whistling.
Duardo turned to face his men. “Patrol units first!” he bellowed. “Take the food with you. I want the first units sweeping the island in the next five minutes. Go! Anyone injured goes next. Then by cadre number!”
As the uniformed men got into line, Carmen stopped listening to Duardo’s orders. She tapped Garrett’s shoulder and beckoned him with her crooked finger, then hurried over to where Nick stood to one side. He spotted her and his smile warmed. “Carmen!” he said, sounding genuinely delighted.
Carmen threw her good arm around his neck and hugged him. The impulse came out of nowhere. Nick hugged her back. Hard.
Then he peeled her away from him and looked down at his damp shirt. “You’re wet,” he observed. “Was it bad?” He brought his hand up to her wounded shoulder, but didn’t touch it.
“Just wet and noisy, inside the smelter shed. I’m glad I was there and nowhere else on this island, last night,” she said soberly, glancing around.
Nick’s smile faded as he took in the damage. “Josh!” he called.
Joshua Benning, whom Carmen recognized from when she had been living in the big house, moved to the front of the open door of the helicopter. He stepped around the big caterers’ trays of sandwiches and juice boxes sitting in the doorway, then jumped down and walked over to where they were standing by the nose of the helicopter. Josh nodded at Carmen. “It’s good to see you, Ms. Escobedo,” he said formally.
“It’s Carmen,” she told him.
“Josh, I guess this is as good a time as any to give you back your mine,” Nick said and waved toward the concrete pads. “It’s all yours.”
Josh let out a heavy breath. “Jesus wept,” he breathed, looking at it.
> “It’s cosmetic damage,” Carmen assured him. “The smelter is still whole. It’ll need a new roof, but that’s all. The heavy equipment is all in the sheds over there. You can’t see the mine head from here, although I remember that the buildings around that were solid, too. It’s just the admin buildings that got flattened and you can probably rebuild them faster than you built them the first time, as the pads are there.”
Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not that,” he said slowly. “It’s…”
“What?” Nick asked, with a note of sharpness.
“The Insurrectos,” Josh said. “Where did they all go?”
“I guess we’ll find out when the patrols report back,” Garrett said. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn.”
Nick looked at him, his eyes narrowing.
Carmen put out her hand toward Garrett and willed him to take it. He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid into hers.
“Nick, I’d like you to meet Garrett Blackburn,” Carmen continued. “He’s a medical doctor working with WHO and assigned to Vistaria.” She glanced at Garrett. He was watching Nick, sizing him up. “Garrett is also the leader of the Resistance unit I’ve been with for the last couple of months since I escaped from the palace.”
Nick’s eyes widened a tiny fraction. He held out his hand. “Dr. Blackburn,” he said. “I’m glad you were there for Carmen.”
“It’s just Garrett,” he said and shook Nick’s hand. “You’re Nicolás Escobedo. You and Carmen have the same eyes.”
“Hers are prettier,” Nick said flatly. “Why don’t you give a damn about the Insurrectos, Garrett? There’s a good chance you’ll be asked to tend them as a medical doctor in the next little while.”
“And they’ll get the best of my skills and abilities. I abide by my oath,” Garrett said roughly. “Ibarra is flat out crazy, though. He’s the reason the Insurrectos stuck around, trying to hang on to the mine despite the hurricane. If they’re dead, it’s Ibarra’s fault. I hope he perished with them. It’ll be a cleaner war if he did.”
Nick blinked. He studied Garrett with renewed interest.
Carmen looked up as Calli, Nick’s wife, stepped into the doorway of the helicopter from somewhere inside. She had a cellphone to her ear, sunglasses pushed up over her head and a notepad and pen in her other hand. She jumped down awkwardly to the wet ground and walked over to them. “Just one moment, Mr. President,” she said in almost flawless Spanish. “The President pro tem is right here. I’ll put him on and you can speak to him directly.”
She held the phone out to Nick. “The President of Mexico would like to speak to you,” she told him and pressed her lips together to hold back a smile.
Nick did smile. He took a deep breath and put the phone to his ear. “President Aguirre, it is good to hear from you.” He walked away, the phone to his ear. Calli pressed her notebook to her chest, her smile breaking free.
Behind them, the army was helping itself to the food in an orderly and almost silent procession. Duardo turned from monitoring them and looked at Calli. “Was that who I think it was on the phone for Nick?” he asked.
Calli nodded.
Duardo looked up at the white sky and let out a gusty sigh. “Yes!” he breathed.
Garrett pulled Carmen closer to him, his arm sliding around her waist from behind. He murmured in her ear. “I’m losing track of your family tree. Is there anyone here right now that isn’t a cousin?”
Carmen looked around the group. Nick was her uncle, Calli was married to him and Josh was Calli’s uncle. He was also Minnie’s father and Minnie had married Duardo… Carmen shook her head. “Nope. We’re all related one way or another.”
Duardo watched them, a twinkle in his eye. He grinned at Garrett. “Welcome to the family, Garrett. I speak from experience when I assure you that you’ve never met a family like this one.”
“If it has Carmen in it,” Garrett told him, “the family must be as rare as dragon’s breath.”
Silence gripped them as everyone stared at Garrett. Carmen could feel her back straightening defensively.
Then Calli laughed. “Oh, you’re going to fit in perfectly!” she told Garrett.
* * * * *
Garrett stepped to one side of the faint trail. He didn’t let go of her hand.
Carmen looked at the clearing ahead of them with amusement. “This is the five star hotel suite you promised me?”
It was a tiny clearing. In the middle of it was an even smaller tent made of dark green nylon. It had weathered the hurricane surprisingly well. Three of the ropes had come adrift, making it sag in the middle. The nylon draped over an irregular, angled mound of equipment and supplies that had been heaped inside. The pile of gear had kept the tent from blowing away. A ring of stones blackened by fire sat in front of it. There was nothing else in the clearing.
“It even has running water,” Garrett said, with a smile. “Listen.”
From the other side of the clearing, farther into the trees, a little creek trickled. It was storm run-off and would dry up after the worst of the hurricane flooding ceased. “A bath!” she sighed, as if the creek was really a hot tub in disguise. “I think I might faint!”
Garrett pulled her to him. “Daniel said he’d stay point man for the unit for another twelve hours and offered me this tent in exchange. It’s not the Astoria but it’s ours and we have twelve uninterrupted hours all to ourselves. No audience. No media. No one.”
Just before they had left Las Piedras Grandes, the media had descended upon the disaster area in droves, aboard commercial and private helicopters. Someone had tipped them off. Carmen had been sitting in the open door of the Blackhawk, letting the painkillers Garrett had given her kick in. Calli had produced dry clothes, that were only one size too big. With the painkillers and change of clothes, Carmen felt almost human again.
She watched the first of the helicopters hover to land, a cameraman hanging out of the open door, filming. She headed for the nose of the helicopter, intending to hide behind it. Garrett had been right behind her and she bumped up against him.
“They’re not here for you,” Garrett said softly, his arm going around her. “They don’t even know you’re here.”
“It’ll take them five minutes to figure out who I am. Then they will be here for me.”
Duardo, who stood just to one side giving orders to a group of soldiers, dismissed his men and turned to them. “Why don’t you get out of here?”
“How?” Garrett asked sharply.
Duardo whistled and a private came running up to him. “Sir?”
“Slide over to the Blackhawk, Calderon. Give the pilot my compliments and tell him he’s to drop these two wherever they want to go.”
“I know exactly where that is,” Garrett murmured, but refused to tell her, except to say it was a five star hotel suite.
The Blackhawk had touched down on a deserted strip of road, a mile away from here. Garrett led her through the woods to this tiny clearing.
Carmen linked her arms around his neck. “It’s better than a honeymoon,” she said.
“You mean that, Escobedo?” he asked, his eyes warming.
Her heart ached. “Oh, yes.” Happiness bubbled through her. “I have you alone and you want to be here. It’s perfect.”
His lips touched hers. “I’ll find other times like this,” he told her. “Lots of them. As many as I can.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.” His eyes met hers, the green filled with heat and rich with emotion. “Wait, you’ve already done that.”
He kissed her and Carmen sighed with contentment. She was home. Really home.
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The next book in the Vistaria Has Fallen series.
Casualties of War
He’s an action hero. She’s an Army Ranger. Who will save whom?
Adán Caballero is the even more famous son of famous Hollywood parents, and doesn’t give a damn about any of it, for his extended family is fighting a war in Vistaria and won’t let him help.
Meanwhile, Parris Graves, the woman he has secretly loved for decades, is off somewhere in the world serving her country.
When an Insurrecto bomb destroys a building around him and the United States denies it is the act of Vistarian terrorists, it is the last straw. Adán bolts for war-torn Vistaria, determined to do something to help the Loyalists…
Freedom Fighters Page 21
