Chapter Nine

It wasn’t just sex this time. Carmen couldn’t define why it was different. It simply was.

She still felt the same aching need and Garrett’s hands and mouth still felt as heavenly as the first time he had used them on her. She could see he was smiling as he worked. He liked to make her squirm even though she denied she did anything so inelegant. Truthfully, he made her wriggle and arch, moan and scream, more than any other man.

She always wanted more, no matter how satiated he left her. Even when she was falling asleep, drained from multiple orgasms, she wished she had the energy to reach for him one more time.

“Look at me,” Garrett said.

Carmen opened her eyes. He was holding still above her and as she looked he leaned down and kissed her. He moved, not hurrying, but not driving her crazy with super slow torture, either. It was nice. Very nice.

After the pleasure had dissipated, Garrett lay back on the mattress and drew her to him, so her arm and leg draped over him and her head was on his shoulder. “You’re exhausted. You just don’t know it yet. You used up a lot of energy today.”

“I slept all afternoon,” she reminded him, then yawned hugely, her eyes widening. The yawn had come from nowhere.

“Uh-huh.”

“Hate you,” she murmured, running her fingers idly over his shoulder. The tips bumped over one of the white circle scars and she drew them back again, feeling the slight depression it had left in his flesh.

“That one was a cigar.” His voice was soft. His tone casual.

Horror spilled through her. Carmen fought not to react or show her feelings. Hiding her reaction was instinctive. If she responded strongly, he would clam up again. She swallowed. She was wide awake now. She slid her finger around the circular edge of the scar. “They used a lit cigar on you?”

“The smaller ones were cigarettes.” His voice was neutral, without emotion, yet she knew he was holding all the emotion back, just as she was.

She let her fingers drift up to his face, to the white scar under his beard. “And this one? Cigar, too?”

“A big, fat corona.” He paused. “It hurt like crazy. It all hurt. Yet the only thing I could think of when they used that one was that the stench was driving me mad.”

Carmen gritted her teeth, to hold back her moan of horror. She pushed herself up on to one elbow and looked down at him. His eyes narrowed as he stared back into the past.

“And this one?” she asked, touching the scar below his throat, the one visible inside his shirt collars.

“That was a scrape, when they dragged me across the floor. There was a piece of timber on the floor they pulled me over. They had been beating me with it. It got caught under my chin and took off the top layer of skin.”

They had been dragging him face down.

Carmen bit her lip. She made herself slide her fingers over to the jagged scar on his hip. “This was a knife, wasn’t it?”

He nodded, his chin moving a fraction of an inch.

“And your back?” she asked, although she already knew. She wasn’t sure why she was making him catalog every wound, except that he had started it and her gut said she should keep it going. She didn’t want to. She felt a desperate anger mixing with her horror and sadness. It was helping Garrett in some cathartic way, though.

“The thicker ones are from a raw leather strap, as stiff as a board. The thin ones…” He sighed. “One of them had a riding crop.”

Before she could blink them away, tears rose and spilled. They were hot and made her eyes ache.

Garrett said, “It was all over and done with, a long time ago.”

“Not for you, it wasn’t.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She thought of the night she had found him drinking alone in the dark. If ever there was a man still struggling with demons, it had been Garrett that night. “You still live through it. Over and over.”

“Not since you came.” His voice was soft.

That made her cry harder. “Don’t say that,” she said brokenly.

“Why not?”

“I’m nothing, Garrett. I’m the spoiled only daughter of the former President. You’ve seen the press. I’m a walking cliché. Everything they say about rich and famous peoples’ kids, that’s me.”

“It wasn’t a precocious brat who stole her uncle’s yacht and came back to Vistaria.”

“I didn’t know what else to do!” Carmen cried. She sat up. “There was nothing for me to do in Acapulco. It wasn’t home. No one could find me something to do to help. Minnie was going off on her grand adventure to find her beloved Duardo, so I tagged along. I was ballast.” She wiped her eyes again.

Garrett sat up, too. “You haven’t been ballast since you walked into my camp. You haven’t once asked yourself what the point of this is.”

Carmen hesitated, thinking back over the last two months. He was right.

“Tell me what you think about when we’re on missions,” he pressed.

She looked down at the sheet gathered around her knees, thinking. “I don’t think,” she confessed. “If anything, I get angry, when I see how desperate everyone’s lives are. No food except what they can gather and grow for themselves, barely any medicine, schools shut down on Insurrecto orders and the sad, sad faces everywhere…I get pissed. Really pissed. My father never let anyone bottom out like that.”

“Exactly,” Garrett said. “You’re working to change that. There’s no doubt in your mind.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Carmen said. “I’m following your orders and most of the time what we do seems useless.”

“It all helps,” Garrett told her. “A raid here and there distracts them and pulls resources away from where they want them. Besides, you have made the biggest difference, in the last two weeks.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“The radio,” he said. “We wouldn’t be hooked into the Loyalist network if you hadn’t nagged me into buying Hernandez’s computer. Now, with their direction, we have a chance of doing something that could make a real difference.”

Carmen plucked at the sheet. “I suppose…”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Garrett told her. “Wars mess up people’s lives. You’re doing far more than anyone has a right to expect of you, given the circumstances you’ve found yourself in. You’re good at it, too.”

“I think that has more to do with the training than anything else,” she muttered.

Garrett rolled his eyes. He dipped his head and kissed her. It was a gentle touch of his lips. “Just wait,” he told her. “Wait and trust that things will work out.”

“That’s not what you do,” she accused him.

“I do, now,” he assured her.

He lay down again and pulled her back into his arms, insisting she get some sleep. Carmen let him insist. She didn’t think she could sleep, though. She was too wide awake now and too wired. Her brain was working overtime.

Garrett had hope now. That was what his last comment meant. No one could wait and trust that things will work out without hope.

Yet, when she had first met him, she would have said Garrett was filled with ice cold anger and not much else.

Why had he gained hope? The radio? Communicating with Acapulco meant that whatever they did now would directly influence the Loyalist’s war efforts, yet that seemed too flimsy a thing to spawn hope. They still didn’t know what the Loyalists were planning. They were cogs in a much larger machine.

What had given Garrett hope?

* * * * *

It was the middle of the afternoon and the old house was still and almost silent. It was a hot day, when the air was thick and oppressive and there wasn’t even a whiff of a breeze. Everyone who didn’t have critical responsibilities was sleeping…or trying to.

Minnie didn’t want to sleep, though. Duardo had appeared unexpectedly two hours ago and looked at his watch. “I have twelve hours leave, mi amor,” he told her and kissed her, right in front of Rubén and Téra. Minnie had closed her computer, taken his hand and led him to their cramped bedroom. Twelve hours was more spare time than Duardo had been granted in a month or more. She didn’t demand details, because Duardo couldn’t give them. Duardo was assisting General Flores these days, taking more of his responsibilities into his own hands.

She let out her breath, feeling a bone-deep contentment. They were both naked and pleasantly sweaty. Her heart was slowing. Duardo had his hand on her belly, which protruded, even when she was lying on her back as she was now.

“That’s two sighs in five minutes,” he said. “What is on your mind?”

“It’s…um, nothing.”

He smiled, his teeth flashing white in the dim room. They had the drapes drawn against the harsh afternoon sun and the bamboo fan circled lazily overhead, moving the air to cool their moist skin. “Are you deliberately lying badly?”

She shook her head and sat up. She curled her feet underneath her. “Sort of. I’m not sure how to handle this.”

Duardo’s eyes narrowed.

Minnie looked down at her hand, resting on her knee. “I know what a twelve hour furlough means,” she said. “I also know you can’t talk about it.” She looked up at him. “I want to talk about it, though.”

He picked up her hand and brought it to his lips. “Who told you?”

“I’m living on top of the army, here. I picked it up. Talk and gossip. You know.”

Duardo shook his head. “If you found out from idle chatter, anyone could. I may have to change that practice. Or change security around the issue of furloughs. It wouldn’t help us to have half of Acapulco guess our military movements from the scheduling of leave.”

“Schedule it after the mission,” she told him. “Or make it a high security order. They get five hours they can spend with family and loved ones only. Or stay in the camp. No exceptions.”

“Hmmm…” Duardo looked thoughtful.

“I am right, then?” Minnie asked. “You’re going somewhere to do something. Vistaria, I presume.”

It was Duardo’s turn to sigh. “I can’t tell you, mi amor. Yes, there’s something coming up. That’s all I can say.” He turned his head, his gaze cutting away from her. “I didn’t want to tell you until my leave ended.”

Minnie smiled. “Hey, I’m an army wife now. I have to deal with these things. Your mom probably has it down pat, but she’s had practice.” She kept her tone light and as unconcerned as she could. “When are you leaving?”

“In a few days,” he said. “Only, I will be gone from you once my leave is over. The preparations…” He trailed off.

“I get it,” Minnie assured him softly. “You get a break before you dive in to get the whole operation up and running. So, three or four days of prep, then you’re gone.”

Duardo gave her a small smile. “You understand.” She could hear the gratitude in his voice. He paused. “This is my first time, too.”

“First time?”

“Leaving my wife behind…and my son.” His glance dropped to her belly.

Minnie hid her smile. Duardo would not even consider that she carried a girl. It had to be a Vistarian male ego thing. She leaned over and kissed his chin. “It had better be your first time, buster. Although you’ve sneaked into Vistaria lots of times since you got back. Don’t think I don’t know.”

He looked startled. Then he smiled reluctantly. “It’s not the same as this…operation.”

“A bullet is a bullet,” Minnie said. “The Insurrectos would love to shoot you, particularly Serrano. You step onto Vistaria with a target on your forehead every time.” She picked up his hand. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

He hesitated. “I can’t promise that,” he said flatly. “Things happen in war, Minnie. I promise I will do my best to come back to you.”

It would have to do. Duardo was good at being a soldier. She had picked up hints and more gossip about his skills from other soldiers. Rubén had been particularly admiring. He reported directly to Duardo.

If Duardo promised he would do his best to ensure he came back, she would do her best not to load him down with worry or concerns. “You’d better kiss me again,” she said lightly. “I have to store them up for a while.”

Duardo kissed her and it was no light peck.

A knock on the door sounded. She groaned her frustration.

Duardo grinned and got to his feet and threw on the robe hanging on the back of the door. “There are ten hours yet,” he reminded her and opened the door an inch or two.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Calli said from the other side of the door. “Nick isn’t back yet and you’re the most senior army officer I can find. This is directly related to you, anyway. Could you come to my office? Minnie, too, please.”

Minnie rolled off the bed and reached for her jeans. “Five minutes!” she called to Calli.

“Ten, if I must put my uniform back on,” Duardo amended.

“Civilian clothes would be better,” Calli said.

* * * * *

An armed non-com stood outside Calli’s door.

Minnie glanced at Duardo. He frowned and shook his head. He couldn’t guess either. He nodded at the private and rapped on the door. “Señora Escobedo?”.

“Please come in,” Calli called back. She hadn’t used Duardo’s rank.

Duardo held the door open for her and Minnie stepped into the office, her curiosity roused.

Callie was behind her big desk. Another woman sat on one of the chairs in front of it.

Duardo pulled out the second chair for her and Minnie sank into it gratefully. She always felt tired these days. The drain of energy would only be worse before the end.

Duardo took up his post at the corner of the desk, to Minnie’s left.

The woman turned to look at them. She was a young black woman and the way she studied them made Minnie think she was absorbing every little detail, that nothing escaped her notice. Her hair was long and straight, hanging past the back of her shoulder blades. Her eyes were large, almond-shaped and beautiful. Her skin was light, almost coffee-colored.

“This is Chloe Masters,” Calli said. “She arrived in Acapulco this morning. From San Francisco. Chloe, this is Minerva Benning Peña and Eduardo Peña y Santos.”

Duardo nodded his head and Minnie smiled at her.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Cristián’s brother?”

Duardo glanced at Calli for explanation.

“You don’t have to worry,” Chloe told him. “Your security isn’t breached. I know my way around the Internet. Cristián stopped talking to me three days ago. I had to come down here and make sure he’s okay. Is he?”

Minnie held up her hand. “You might need to back up and explain a few things. Who is Cristián?”

“You have to make sure about me,” Chloe said. “I get it. Really, I’m not interested in the Insurrectos or your war. I just want to check on Cristián. I can’t go to Vistaria myself. I figure that as he’s a Loyalist, then the Loyalists camping in Acapulco—you guys—would tell me if he’s okay.”

Duardo cleared his throat. “This Cristián…he told you he was a Loyalist?”

Chloe smiled. Even her smile was stunning. She was a gorgeous woman. “Of course, he didn’t tell me that. I didn’t know who he was until around eight last night. We never gave any details about ourselves. Cristián insisted on it and I had already figured out the open code on the IWU Facebook group, so I guessed why he was insisting. When he stopped talking three days ago, I went digging for facts. That’s when I found out who he was.” She hesitated, her full lips pressing together. “I know where he is, too. Pascuallita is crawling with Insurrectos. If you’re his brother, I don’t have to tell you how risky his position is.”

Duardo and Calli exchanged glances. “How did you dig up the real information?” Calli asked, making it sound like a casual question.

Chloe unzipped a leather briefcase sitting on the chair next to her hip and reached inside.

Minnie saw Duardo stiffen to full alert from the corner of her eye. He wasn’t armed. He was wearing jeans as Calli had suggested. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything if Chloe pulled a weapon out of the briefcase.

What emerged was a memory stick on a black lanyard. Chloe held it up so it swung like a pendulum. “I’m a hacker, like Cristián,” she said. “I’ve been working on this for a year and when Cristián disappeared, I spent twelve hours finishing it, so I could look for him.”

“What is it?” Calli said.

“It’s a….” Chloe shrugged. “I could give you the technical specifications, only I don’t think they’d mean anything to you. No offense.”

Calli gave her a stiff smile. “Try describing it generally.”

Chloe shrugged. “Okay. The Internet is one giant open network. Anyone can get on it and anyone who knows a little bit about hacking can find all sorts of information about people. There’s not much security on the Internet, although the Facebook group was a good idea. Open code is unbreakable unless you have reference points that let you figure out the rest.”

“You had those reference points?” Minnie asked.

“Not until last night.” She lifted the memory stick again. “This is an application I built. It lets you move around the net and leave no footprints. When you use it, no one knows you’re there unless you’re silly enough to say you’re there. That means you can hack into anything you want. It makes you invisible.” She grinned. “I call it Harry’s Cloak.”

Calli smiled.

Minnie held up her hand. “I’ve been learning a lot about computers in the last few weeks. I work with a would-be hacker. Let me ask a dumb question. If you have Harry’s Cloak and someone else had Harry’s Cloak, could you communicate with each other privately?”

“More than privately,” Chloe said. “You’d both be invisible to anyone else, including the best hackers out there. Harry’s Cloak doesn’t only mask your signature. It stops your signature from even forming. It’s as perfect a disguise as the real cloak was.”

She leaned forward and placed the jump drive in front of Calli. “You can have it, gratis,” she said. “It’s my way of proving I’m not an Insurrecto spy.”

“If the program does what you say it does,” Calli began, “you could sell it for a small fortune. Why give it to us?”

“As I said,” Chloe replied, “It’s good will, so you can figure out I’m not here to undermine your war. Besides, if you install it, you can talk to Cristián. Then I’ll know he’s okay.”

“If we knew who this Cristián was, what makes you think we wouldn’t pick up a phone and call him instead?” Duardo asked.

Chloe grinned. “Calls can be traced.” She pointed to the jump drive. “Nothing can track that.”

“You would give up the potential earnings you’d make from your program, to make sure that Cristián is okay?”

Chloe’s amusement faded. “I would,” she said firmly. She smiled again. “Besides, I can write another app anytime. I’m not hurting for cash, you know.”

Duardo held up his hand. “Excuse me for a moment.” He stepped to the door and opened it, then spoke to the guard outside. He pushed the door open. “Ms. Masters, would you mind stepping out and keeping Private Juarez company? I would like to speak to the Chief of Staff for a moment.”

“Sure.” Chloe got to her feet and Minnie saw she was tall, like Calli, and lithe, with a dancer’s body. If Cristián hadn’t shared any personal details with her, he would be overjoyed when he met her in person.

Chloe stepped out into the corridor and turned to face the guard. She spoke a slow, passable Spanish.

Duardo shut the door and came back to the desk. “If this application does what she says it does, do you realize what it means?” he asked Calli.

“A completely secure way of communicating with anyone else who has the program,” Calli said. “Perhaps we should keep Ms. Masters around for a while. She might be useful, given the upcoming operations.”

“Exactly,” Duardo said.

“Employ her,” Minnie told them. “Give her a job deploying the application and maintaining it. She’ll want to hang around, anyway, to ensure Cristián is all right. If we hire her, she is accountable to us and we can control her movements. I don’t like the idea of her going back to the States and telling anyone what she gave us.”

“A high security position?” Calli raised her brow. “I’ll want to do some background checks first. We have no idea who she is.”

“Ask Cristián,” Minnie said. “He might not know her first name, but if they’ve been talking via email or something, I guarantee he’s got a good read on her personality. They’ve obviously got a strong enough relationship that she rushed down to Acapulco because he stopped emailing.”

Duardo picked up her hand and kissed it. “You are as clever as you are beautiful.”

Calli smiled and leaned back in her chair. “Colonel Peña, do you agree we proceed with this? Employ Chloe and use the application?” She had switched back to Spanish, making it formal and official.

“I agree,” Duardo said. “I would like to install this application, this cloak, as soon as possible. It would be of enormous benefit to us.” He straightened to attention. “With your permission, I will share this news with General Flores. He will find it interesting.”

“Thank you, yes, Colonel Peña. Please go ahead. Send Chloe back in on your way out.”

Duardo nodded and turned to leave and Minnie realized with a jolt that just like that, Duardo’s twelve hour leave was over.

Only now, there was a chance she could still talk to him, no matter where he was.