Chapter Ten

Nemesis slid into the camp at dawn the next day and only the close proximity guards were alerted. He had slipped right through the outer ring of sentries.

Garrett swore and muttered when he realized there were holes in his defense line. Nemesis shrugged it off. “I’ve been climbing Vistarian mountains and hiking through the bush since I was small and I’ve got sneakier with each passing decade. The Insurrectos have no bushcraft at all. You’ll hear them coming a mile off. Don’t worry about it. Your inner guards were alert enough.” He shrugged off the heavy backpack and put it on the ground at his feet. “I’ve brought another present for you.”

“Another radio?” Carmen asked dryly. She had spent the last twenty-four hours learning Morse Code and swearing mightily over it. “Typing is faster,” she had pointed out to Garrett while sweating over long and short taps. “Can’t we rig up a keyboard to send the stuff? It’s crazy-making.”

Garrett had tapped out his answer in Morse, his finger on the desk, proving that he had picked it up with lightning speed. Get back to work, he’d told her.

She had scowled and poked her tongue at him.

He’d just smiled and gone back to studying the code book.

Now, with Nemesis in front of them, Garrett crossed his arms. “A week’s supply of groceries would be better than another radio,” he said, “only I don’t think you could fit them all into that backpack. Even though it’s a monster.”

Nemesis grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. He pushed the toe of his boot up against the pack. “This has everything I need to survive. It lets me stay one hundred percent mobile.” He bent and unzipped a side pocket and delved into it. Then he held out toward them a small plastic model car, shaped like a Ferrari.

“Huh?” Carmen said, flummoxed. Nemesis had gone out of his way to find them to give them a toy?

“What is it?” Garrett asked. He didn’t sound puzzled at all.

Nemesis tugged the car between both hands and the hood and front wheels separated from the back end, revealing a USB connector. “It’s a memory stick. There’s a program on this that will self-install. Once you’ve installed it, you can use any network, including the Internet, with complete impunity. You’ll be invisible. No one can trace you or see what you’re doing on-line.”

“We can talk directly to the big house?” Carmen asked.

“You can. You can use the camera in the laptop and video chat, too.” Nemesis grinned. “It means the radio and the code books are redundant, but that’s war for you. New technologies every thirty seconds.”

“Thank heavens,” Carmen said heartily. “Morse is a complete bitch.” She took the USB drive. “I’ll do it now.”

Garrett held out his arm in welcome, toward Nemesis. “There’s fresh coffee just made. Come and sit for a while.”

“Just a moment or two,” Nemesis said in agreement. “I have three other units to reach today.”

“We’ll feed you before you go,” Garrett told him.

Carmen hurried away as the two men settled on the cinder blocks circling the fire place, their heads together, talking. She retrieved the laptop from Garrett’s office and went back to the fire. Everyone sat around the fire if they had idle time, not for the heat, but because it was the social center of the camp.

Garrett and Nemesis were still talking. Carmen settled on the brick next to Garrett and fired up the laptop. She inserted the USB drive, which flashed at her, then a dialog box popped up, asking her if she wanted Harry’s Cloak installed.

She smiled at the name and told it YES.

The program installed quickly and down on the bottom right of the screen a little icon glowed green. It was a magic wand.

Confident that the program was running as it should, Carmen brought up an Internet browser. Hernandez had his home page set to MNTV, the Mexican national media network, with news streamers running across the top banner.

—Olympic Games competitor…Vistarian Loyalist leader completes successful US visit…Three people killed in head-on collision on—

Carmen clicked on the streamer about Nick, curious.

Video immediately streamed, showing Nick leaving the Acapulco airport, a beautiful blonde woman by his side. He was brought to a halt by the reporter. “I can’t answer questions that might undermine our efforts,” Nick said.

“Did you speak to the President of the United States?” the reporter asked. “Did he recognize your authority as President Pro tem for the loyal Vistarians?”

The blonde woman stepped forward, drawing the attention of both the reporter and the camera man. “We spoke to several businessmen and concluded several business deals. Naturally, the political side of our visit must remain undisclosed at this time.”

The video cut back to the studio where a woman with upswept hair and a white smile said, “And that was the new Vistarian Ambassador to the United States, Señora Olivia Davenport de Castellano.”

Carmen looked up as Nemesis made a soft sound. He was smiling.

“Do you know her?” Carmen asked, for there was a quality about his smile that made her think he did.

“She’s my wife,” Nemesis said.

Garrett turned to look at him and even though his expression was neutral, Carmen knew he was surprised.

“I thought Olivia Davenport was the daughter of the President’s Chief of Staff,” Carmen said. She had met Colonel Davenport years before, when Richard Menzies had taken her on one of his political forays to Washington. Davenport kept a photo of his daughter on his desk.

“She is the daughter of the Chief of Staff,” Nemesis said, the same smile on his face.

Garrett frowned. “Why on earth weren’t you in Washington with her?” he asked. “A cadre of Navy SEALs would achieve far more in Vistaria than all the radio transmitters in the world.”

Nemesis shrugged and got to his feet. “I’m better at the sneaky stuff. Olivia is better at the diplomacy…so I supposed we’re both good at the sneaky stuff, although she is easier on the eyes.” He picked up his pack and shrugged into it.

Carmen thought Nemesis was easy on the eyes. He was broad across the shoulders and his eyes weren’t the typical Vistarian black. In fact, she would have said he was exactly her type…except she didn’t feel any draw toward him at all.

She looked back down at the laptop, hiding her confusion, as Garrett got to his feet and walked Nemesis to the perimeter. She pulled up her email account and wasn’t surprised to find hundreds of emails had accumulated. She scrolled through, looking for anything important. After being away from email for weeks, none of it would be urgent anymore.

Then she set up a new email account, one the Insurrectos wouldn’t be watching, and started an email to Nick.

Garrett came striding back from the perimeter and settled on the block next to her. “Nice guy, that Nemesis.”

She shrugged and kept typing.

“You were studying him pretty closely,” Garrett added.

She stopped typing, but kept her eyes on the screen. “So?”

“He’s married.”

“I figured that out when he said Olivia Davenport was his wife.”

“You do like your men unavailable,” Garrett pointed out.

Carmen looked at him, startled. “I do not,” she said hotly, because the observation didn’t sit well with her. It made her sound shallow and selfish. “Besides, you’re not my type in any way at all.”

Garrett smiled. “Carmen, I was the most unavailable man you’ve ever met. You hated me into the bargain.”

Carmen looked around for listeners, for privacy around the fire pit was non-existent. No one was within hearing distance. She looked at Garrett again, at his scars and his eyes, which had become more familiar to her in the last week than she had ever thought would be possible.

Familiar…and dear.

“You were unavailable,” she agreed, keeping her voice low. “You’re not anymore, are you?”

Garrett studied her. “Does that scare you, Escobedo?”

She wanted to say ‘yes’, only it wouldn’t be the truth. “You’ve gotta understand, Garrett,” she said. “I grew up as the President’s daughter. Every man with political aspirations saw me as a handy stepping stone. I learned fast how to spot a fake coming at me.”

Garrett nodded. “So…you picked the ones with zero long term prospects.”

“It wasn’t that calculated. It wasn’t even a conscious choice until you said it just then. But yes, men I knew would never commit, who were married or married to their job, or so self-absorbed it would never occur to them to fall in love…I learned to like that sort of man. I suppose because that meant I could control the relationship.”

“And walk away when you wanted to,” Garrett finished.

She let out her breath. “Yes.”

“Do me a favor, Escobedo. Give me some warning if you’re planning to walk on me.”

Carmen shook her head. “I’m not thinking about it.”

“Even though I’m not your type?”

“I’m not that woman anymore.”

“Not even close, thank god,” Garrett murmured and kissed her. Carmen smothered her surprise at Garrett kissing her in public and let herself enjoy it. Before she could respond properly, he let her go. “You’re on sentry duty in an hour. Get some food. You’ll have time to eat it before heading for the rail line.”

Carmen scowled. “Yes, boss.”

“Shouldn’t that be ‘sir’?” he asked, with a smile.

She glared harder. “I noticed you didn’t put yourself on the schedule.” The watch duty over the rail line had swiftly become the most hated duty in the camp. It was monotonous. Garrett had reduced the shifts down to four hours apiece and two people at a time, to keep each other alert.

“Someone has to lead,” he replied, standing up.

“Apparently not by example.”

“That last word of yours is going to get you in trouble, Escobedo,” he said as he walked away.

“Too late, Garrett!” she shot back.

* * * * *

It was another stiflingly hot day. Carmen settled her back against a tree and looked up at the sky overhead, which she could just glimpse through the tree tops. It was a washed out blue and there were flecks of cloud across it that made her think of fish scales.

As the four hours wound on, the fish scales grew in number and the blue disappeared. It grew even hotter.

There wasn’t a breath of wind. Nothing moved among the trees, not even cicadas. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath.

Carmen didn’t sit down, because sitting would let her relax and that would decrease her alertness. Instead, she moved restlessly along a small track she had made, six feet inside the tree line and parallel to the rail line. Back and forth along the track. Sometimes she rested by leaning against the trees, but otherwise, she walked.

Archie was somewhere on the other side of the line. She wondered if he had fallen asleep, because she hadn’t heard a whisper from him in nearly three hours.

She halted as something pricked her attention and stood listening. Had she imagined it?

Your instincts know more than you do. Listen to them. Garrett’s voice, from a long ago training session.

The thick foliage among the trees would muffle sound, yet Carmen knew she had heard something. She checked carefully in both directions along the line, then stepped out into the open. The line here was built up with rock chips underneath the wooden ties. It sat about three feet higher than the soft loam where she stood. The trees had been cleared for six feet on either side of the line, making a long funnel through the forest. Sound would carry better in the funnel.

She dropped her chin and narrowed her eyes, waiting for the sound again. It had been at the edges of her hearing…

“Carmen!” Archie whispered, from the other side of the track.

“Shhh.”

He stepped out into the open, as she was and rested his rifle butt on his hip. “What are you doing?” he demanded, keeping his voice down.

Carmen lifted her head. “I think something is coming.”

“A train?” He cocked his head and listened, then shook it. “I don’t hear anything. Nothing at all. Not even mosquitos.”

“It’s too hot for mosquitos.” She rested her knee against the tie closest to her, then leaned down and pressed her ear against the rail.

The rail was vibrating. It was faint, but it was there.

Carmen straightened up again. “A train,” she said, her heart thudding. It wasn’t a scheduled train. The next expected train was tomorrow.

Insurrectos.

Archie bent and pressed his big hand against the rail. “A train,” he confirmed. “You’ve got the phone.”

Carmen pulled the phone out of the pocket on her thigh and hit the speed dial. It was a stolen phone and the phone on Garrett’s desk was a burner phone.

He answered immediately. “Carmen.”

“Train,” she said. “Unscheduled.”

“We’re coming.” He disconnected.

She shoved the phone back into her pocket and looked at Archie. “How fast can you chop trees? I figure we have about five minutes. One or two more, if we’re lucky.”

“The others won’t get here in five, not even with the jeep,” Archie said.

“I know. We have to stop the train by ourselves. Trees on the line will do it, if they’re big enough. There’s an axe in the stash behind the tree.”

Archie took off running. For a big man, he moved fast. He was back with the axe inside twenty seconds. Carmen patted a tree. “This one,” she declared.

Archie handed her his rifle and hefted the axe. “You watch for the train. Take out the driver. That’ll slow them even more.”

Carmen hefted the rifle. “I’m better with a handgun.”

Archie chopped. He seemed to know what he was doing. He angled the blade and cut a broad vee into the trunk. It was going fast. Bits of wood flew as he hacked.

Carmen rested her boot on the rail. Through her foot, she could feel the vibrations. They were stronger now. She looked down the line. About a quarter mile down, the track curved to the north. Depending on how fast the train was moving, she would have a long time to take aim. Several seconds at least.

Now she could hear the clack of ties and the low murmur of the engine.

“Soon,” she warned Archie.

He didn’t answer. He kept swinging the axe.

Carmen waited tensely, her heart racing. If Garrett and the others didn’t get here in time, it was going to be down to her and Archie to stop this train. Nemesis had been clear. Nothing could go through.

“Move out of the way,” Archie yelled, as the tree cracked and bent forward as if it was tired. It fell so the fine branches and leaves at the top of the tree covered the track.

“That’s not going to stop the train,” Carmen said. “We need the trunk across the rails.”

“Yep.” Archie was already positioning himself to chop at the opposite side of the trunk. Big splinters stuck up around the edges where the trunk had cracked. He tackled the section of the trunk that was still whole. The blade bit deep.

Carmen stared at the far end of the track, where it curved out of sight. Had her estimation been wrong? Or had time slowed to a snail’s pace?

Or both?

She dithered, feeling the weight of responsibility settle heavily. If the train took longer to get here than she had estimated, that was a good thing. Archie chewed through the trunk with the efficiency of a chain saw, although he had a way to go yet and they still had to reposition the tree once it separated from the stump.

Also, the slower the train was going, the more efficiently the tree would halt the engine. If she had picked too thin a tree, the heavy engine would roll right over the trunk, breaking it into kindling. A bigger tree would have taken too long to chop through. Archie was strong, but he was still only human.

If. If, if, if…The possibilities and outcomes roiled through her, making her belly cramp and her chest ache.

Why hadn’t they thought of this possibility days ago and had sawn logs ready to roll onto the track?

The sound of the approaching train grew louder. The rails groaned as the weight of the train vibrated along the tracks.

Archie let out a shout of satisfaction as the tree shifted and the trunk flopped to the ground.

Carmen slung the rifle over her shoulder, clambered over the line and picked up branches in her hands, ready to pull like crazy.

Archie picked up the raw end of the trunk and nodded.

She pulled. The tree was heavier than she had thought it would be. She thrust her boot up against the end of a tie and pushed with her leg for better leverage. It moved sluggishly. Archie was red in the face and with a curse, he dropped the trunk and stepped back, his chest heaving.

“Again!” Carmen called.

He wiped at his forehead with the sleeve of his teeshirt, then bent and picked up the trunk once more.

Carmen threw her entire bodyweight into dragging the thing backward. It moved a few inches.

“Again,” she called and heaved.

A few more inches. But it was moving.

In her mind, a mental clock ticked down. She pulled on the tree in a rhythmic tugging, taking small steps back as it moved.

Finally, Archie was a pace away from the rail and most of the foliage was hanging over the side of the track. The trunk, a good eight inches through the middle, straddled the two rails.

Archie looked up and dropped the trunk. “Take cover!” He headed for the trees.

Carmen leapt over the rails and ran after him. She stopped at the edge of the tree line and unslung the rifle. There was a tree with a fork in it at almost the perfect height. She settled the barrel of the rifle into the fork and bent and took aim.

“What are you doing?” Archie demanded.

“If I can take out the driver, I can slow the train,” Carmen muttered.

“He doesn’t have dead man controls,” Archie shot back. “Killing him means there’s no one there to apply the brakes. Come and get under cover. Look, the guards on the top of the cars have seen you.”

She looked at the train as it curved around the bend. The tree had been seen. The guards had been monitoring their flanks. Now they turned to face the front of the car. A rifle cracked. It came nowhere near her.

A shout sounded from within the trees, barely audible over the noise of the train. It had come from farther along the track. Figures stepped out from the trees and ran alongside the train. From among them, she spotted Garrett, who was half a head taller than anyone else in the camp.

The guards saw them, too. They moved back to their positions where they could protect the side of the train, pulling their rifles around to aim downward. Garrett and his men would be far too easy to pick off.

Carmen bent and focused along her sights, her heart squeezing. She aimed carefully and let off a round.

One of the guards on the roof threw up his arms. His rifle toppled over the side as he fell backward. The other guards all jerked around to see where the threat was coming from. Then they all hunkered down, hugging the roof of the car.

The driver of the train was close enough to see the tree across the tracks was too substantial to drive over. The engine brakes came on and the wheels bit into the tracks, squealing.

Garrett hooked a hand over the big door handle and hauled himself up onto the lip of the door, then leaned down to haul up the others. He ducked when a guard shot at him. As the guard didn’t want to lift his head high and expose himself to Carmen’s line of sight, the shot went wide.

Carmen tracked the guard with the rifle. As he moved into her sights, she fired again. The guard flinched and ducked back down. She had missed.

The train slowed. Three Resistance members clung to the side of the car and Garrett fumbled with the door, trying to open it.

Another guard, a braver one, lifted himself up onto his knees and leaned over the edge, taking careful aim.

At Garrett.

Carmen barely aimed. She jerked the tip of the rifle the fraction of an inch necessary to line up with the guard. She pulled the trigger compulsively. Once, twice, three times. She should have taken the time to squeeze it. She knew that, yet the knowledge was far away. More immediate was the danger to Garrett.

The train had slowed to a walk and would stop in a few seconds, about six feet short of the tree. The guard who aimed for Garrett jerked sideways. She hadn’t hit him but she had distracted him.

Something slammed into her shoulder, sending her staggering backward. Her knees grew weak. Heat and icy coldness tore through her, stealing her breath and her strength.

She fell back on her butt. Her left arm wouldn’t work.

“Carmen!” Garrett’s voice, sounding strained.

Carmen lifted her right hand to her shoulder and touched it. Agony flared, sending another wave of cold through her.

There was a lot of shouting, over by the train. The train had halted.

Good. We stopped it. The thought was fuzzy.

She put it together. She had been shot. All this muzziness and the hot and cold feelings…that was shock.

She could almost hear Garrett scolding her. Move your ass Escobedo! They’ll come for you!

“Carmen!” It was Garrett’s voice and this time she wasn’t hearing it only in her head. She looked up, forcing her head to lift. She wanted to lie down for a while. Lying seemed easier.

Garrett ran toward her. Behind him, two of the guards who had been on the roof of the car chased him, their rifles lifted. The other fighters were scattering. Running for their lives.

Carmen tried to shout a warning to Garrett but her voice wouldn’t work.

He dropped to his knees next to her, his hands on her shoulder. “You should have run.”

“He was going to shoot you.” It took enormous effort to say it.

His fingers pressed against the wound and behind her shoulder, too. It hurt.

Something flickered at the corner of her eye. She looked up.

A guard stood over Garrett, his rifle raised. As she looked, he brought the butt of the rifle down against the back of Garrett’s head.

Garrett fell against her, his full weight dragging her down. She toppled backward and cried out as her shoulder slammed against the earth. Bright sparks flittered in her mind.

Just before the blackness swamped her, she thought distantly, I’m lying down. Then, tinged with panic that could only express itself in her mind, Garrett!

Then nothing.