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?”

“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.”

“What’s your other duty?” Olivia asked as Minnie raise her arm and measured another garment against it.

“I’m also Nick’s wife.” Calli grinned. “It provides some interesting moments of conflict. Daniel says you’re asking for citizenship.”

“On political grounds,” Olivia said. “It’s not quite asylum, because my country isn’t threatening me in any way. However, I’m marrying a Vistarian and I want to end this war and I want the Loyalists to get their country back. I have unusual connections you and Nick could use.”

Calli’s smile shifted and her eyes grew warmer. “I’m aware of those connections. I’ve been talking to your father since the raid ended, on and off. I’ve got him on speed dial now. He asked that you call him when you’re ready. I’ve assured him you’re okay.”

“Thank you,” Olivia said. “Although, I want to be married and I want to be a Vistarian, if it can possibly be arranged, before I speak to him again.”

“It means that much to you?” Calli asked.

Olivia pressed her lips together. Then she sighed. “While we were trapped in the hotel, Daniel kept talking about Duardo, about his honor and how he was one of the best Vistarians Daniel knew. All I could see, that whole time we were held hostage and especially when he got us out, was that Daniel was just what he had been saying Duardo was. Honorable. Strong. Principled.”

“I know a few Vistarians like that,” Calli murmured.

“I want Vistaria to be run by people like that,” Olivia said. “I want Serrano thrown in a jail cell for war crimes. I will do whatever I can to make that happen.”

Minnie and Calli looked at her steadily. Then Calli stirred. “All right, then.” She pulled a cellphone out of her back jeans pocket. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Minnie held out a garment toward Olivia as Calli left the room. “She’s good at getting things done. Now, let’s get you ready.”

Less than an hour later, Minnie stood back and studied Olivia from head to foot. Calli came into the bedroom carrying a beautiful bouquet of cascading blue flowers, which she held out to Olivia.

Olivia took them. “They’re beautiful. Are they…wisteria?”

“Vistaria,” Calli told her. “The national flower of Vistaria. I have no idea where Daniel found them, but there you go. Now you’re a proper bride. You even have a veil. Do you want anyone to walk you down the aisle, even symbolically?”

Olivia shook her head. “No one. No men. Although it would please me if you both came with me. Not behind me. With me. I have a feeling we will be working together a lot from now on. It feels right that if anyone walks me down the aisle, it be you two.”

Calli grinned.

“I like her,” Minnie declared. “Let’s get her married before I steal the delicious Daniel for myself.”

Calli rolled her eyes and stepped over to the bedroom door. “She’s only got the sexiest full-blooded Vistarian I’ve ever met as a husband. Ignore her. Minnie keeps forgetting she’s a wife and a mother-to-be and reverting to her old ways.”

“I’m happy,” Minnie protested and waved Olivia toward the door. “So let me be happy.”

Me, too, Olivia thought, as she stepped out of the bedroom and walked down a flight of old stairs. She was wearing a floor length skirt in a cream color and a silk top that floated around her waist. If she lifted her arms up, her flesh was revealed. The veil was a small thing, clipped to her hair, which was trailing loose around her shoulders and brushing her waist. She had refused to let Minnie pin it up. It seemed even more appropriate to her that she was barefoot, for no shoes in her size were to be found.

Calli opened a set of glass doors and both women, as requested, stepped up alongside her. Beyond the door was a room that was much newer than the rest of the house. It smelled faintly of fresh paint. There was no furniture in the room. Four people stood waiting, all of them men.

The priest was in the middle of the floor, watching her approach. Off to one side stood two men. One was tall, a typical Vistarian in coloring and good looks, wearing a dark green uniform with four stripes on the sleeve. That would be Duardo. Next to him was an equally tall man with red hair. Olivia recognized him from TV clips and news items. Nick Escobedo, the heir presumptive to the country…if the Loyalists won.

The last man was Daniel. He wore a military uniform, too. It didn’t fit properly, although it looked good on him. He came forward and picked up her hand and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, but it’s just family.”

Family. That was something neither of them had cared to lay claim to a few days ago. Olivia looked up at him. “Just family is perfect.”

Daniel turned her toward the priest.

* * * * *

After they were married and the priest congratulated Daniel and hurried away, Nick stepped in front of them. “As President pro tempore, I am honored to welcome you upon Vistarian soil.”

Calli handed him a small card and smiled at Olivia, as Daniel took her bouquet from her and held out a bible.

“Put your left hand on the bible, please,” Nick said, “and raise your right hand.”

Olivia’s heart gave a little skip and she followed the instructions.

“Please repeat after me,” Nick said and looked down at the card. “I solemnly swear…”

The simple oath that Nick led her through moved her and brought tears to her eyes. Daniel had arranged this…and Calli. They had honored her wishes. Truly, she was blessed.

Nick dropped the card to his side. “Congratulations, you are now a Vistarian and one of the family.”

This time, Daniel’s kiss was thorough. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear, before turning back to face Nick.

Duardo stepped up beside him and Minnie and Calli joined the circle. Nick looked around the small group. “Daniel and Olivia, I’m sorry to cut the festivities short. We planned to take you to one of the best restaurants in Acapulco, although even that plan has been abandoned, because Duardo needs to report back to General Flores and Calli is still talking to every general and executive in the Situation Room at the White House.”

Duardo nodded. “I could only arrange a four-hour leave and I’m nearly at the end of that. I have orders to distribute before I go…but first, Nick?”

Calli’s cellphone beeped. She grimaced. “Sorry, everyone. Minnie, take notes and report back, please.” She walked away, bringing the cellphone to her ear.

“I guess I’m deputy chief of staff,” Minnie said.

Nick looked at Olivia. “You have certain diplomatic skills that by way of Daniel you have put at the disposal of Vistaria, correct?”

Olivia nodded. “I was a junior diplomat, although I have ten years’ experience.”

Nick nodded. “Then I’m appointing you Ambassador of Vistaria to the United States. Minnie will draw up diplomatic credentials you can present to the President when you get there and you might help her with those—”

“Yes, please,” Minnie said.

“For now, though, do you accept the role and responsibilities that come with it?”

“I do,” Olivia said.

“You will endeavor to represent Vistaria de Escobedo in a manner that encapsulates the qualities and strengths of this country?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.” He looked at Duardo. “We’re all under the rose now.”

Olivia recognized the term with a little jolt. Sub Rosa meant secret. She was in the middle of a secret war council. Just like that. She was a sworn-in diplomatic official and part of whatever secrets act Vistaria recognized.

“There’s something I want you to do for me, on Vistaria,” Duardo told Daniel.

Daniel straightened. He didn’t snap off a salute, although he was at attention, nevertheless. “Name it.”

Duardo told him.

* * * * *

Daniel pulled Olivia to one side when Duardo left and kissed her. “A honeymoon will have to wait,” he said apologetically.

“That’s reasonable,” she told him, brushing her hand along the lapel of his borrowed uniform. “Nick has momentum now. He’d be a fool to squander it.” She bit her lip. “Do you think he realizes that sending me to the White House will put me in front of my father?”

Daniel grinned. “Nick doesn’t miss anything. I think he’s sending you to the White House because you’ll end up in front of your father. That’s a powerful message.”

“And you’re going back to Vistaria.” She gripped his lapels. “You’ll be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course, I’ll be careful,” he told her. “I have every reason to come back, now.”

“And there’s me, too,” she added.

Daniel brushed his fingers through her hair. “There will always be you.” He picked up her injured hand and kissed the back of it, beyond the edges of the bandage.

* * * * *

Olivia spent the remainder of her wedding day packing newly acquired belongings, signing official documents Minnie thrust in front of her, then racing to the airport with Nick in time for the eight o’clock flight to Washington. She already missed Daniel, yet she was deliriously happy, all the same. It took her until the plane was at cruising height to realize why.

Freedom was a heady brew.

* * * * *

Early the next morning, after ten hours of solid sleep and a breakfast of fajitas of spiced goat meat, Carmen straightened up her sleeping bag and folded it double, then sat cross-legged on it, with the laptop on her knees.

She hooked the laptop to the cellphone, using the phone as a modem to get access to the Internet. She logged in with Hernandez’ accounts. It was possible the Insurrectos might be routinely tracking the IP address, although it didn’t matter for what she wanted to do.

With a few clicks, she logged into Facebook. The search bar brought up the Fans of International Wrestling United as the top result. She joined the group and scrolled through the posts, taking her time. It was all free code. She knew the IWU was code for the Insurrectos. From there, she could pick out patterns and associate the wrestlers they were gossiping about with known Insurrectos.

After twenty minutes, she scrolled back up to the top and started a new discussion. She tagged the group’s moderator, a man called Mr. Intensity, who had graying hair and a beard. In his profile picture he was growling with his hands up in the air. Carmen didn’t know Cristián Peña at all, though she sensed from the fake profile and the comments he had scattered across the group that he was a lot looser around the collar than gossip said his upright brother Duardo had been.

That made Carmen think of Minnie, whom she had left in the hands of Zalaya and Serrano in the palace. Briefly, she wondered how Minnie had faired, then deliberately shut down the train of thought. She couldn’t do anything for Minnie and her lost love. Worrying about her was a waste of energy.

Carmen typed quickly.

Hey, Mr. Intensity! I’m new to the group, but I very much like wrestling, especially IWU, I watch it all the time. I don’t like Jackson Jeer, though. He’s a bad ass. It’s the look in his eyes. But I can tell you’re a fine, upstanding Christian and I think I’m going to like this group a lot.

She paused with the cursor over the “post” button. Jackson Jeer was Serrano. She wondered if this would be enough to tell Cristián she was another Loyalist and wise to the ways of the group. Then she shrugged and tapped the post button.

The message wrote itself on the wall.

She was about to disconnect and shut the laptop to save power when a private message popped up in the lower corner of her screen.

Welcome to the group, Hernandez. What else do you like, besides wrestling?

It was Mr. Intensity.

Carmen chewed at her lip.

“Tell him you like opera,” Garrett said, from just behind her.

She jumped, startled. She hadn’t been aware of his approach at all. “Opera?” she asked doubtfully.

“Just tell him.”

She considered how Hernandez might say such an odd thing, then typed it. It’s going to sound funny, but I like music. Classical music.

Garrett made an impatient sound.

“It has to sound natural,” Carmen told him.

Favorite composers?

Garrett squatted down next to her. “He’s figured it out,” he said. “He’s ahead of you. Feed it to him.”

“Feed him what?” Carmen asked. “The only opera I’ve ever heard is my father singing in the bathroom.”

“Bizet. Tell him your favorite composer is Bizet.”

Really like Bizet.

She glanced at Garrett uncertainly. He drew her attention back to the screen with a jerk of his stubbled chin.

Favorite piece? Cristián asked.

She looked at Garrett again.

“His last one,” he said.

She typed out “His last one,” then tapped the send button.

The conversation disappeared, the screen closed up and she was left staring at the Facebook group page once more.

“Disconnect,” Garrett told her. “Now.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, unhooking the phone and powering down the laptop. “Why did he leave?”

“You confirmed who you are, so he broke the direct connection just in case someone was listening.”

“To a private message?”

“They can hack into highly secure university exam servers these days. You think that was a private message?”

Carmen could feel her anger stirring and put the laptop down and turned to glare at Garrett, ready to drop on him from a great height. He was treating her as if she was stupid again and she didn’t like it.

The cellphone buzzed in her hand and she stared at it, puzzled.

“Give it to me,” Garrett said, holding out his hand. “You don’t sound anything like Hernandez.”

She looked at the caller ID. It was a handful of symbols and unpronounceable.

Garrett took it from her and answered it. “Hernandez,” he said shortly.

Carmen could hear the voice at the other end. The sound was crystal clear. “This is Mr. Intensity. My brother is a big opera fan. You two should meet.”

“That sounds good,” Garrett said. “Tell your brother to bring his records.”

“I’ll get back to you.”

The call disconnected.

Garrett looked thoughtful as he handed the phone back to Carmen.

“Would you like to explain all the opera references?” Carmen asked.

“Later,” he told her and walked away.

Carmen watched him leave, her anger stirring yet again. He might have at least thanked her for putting them in touch with the Loyalist army, yet it seemed even that simple kindness was beyond him.

Asshole.

* * * * *

Calli rarely intruded upon the army’s setup on the beach. Most of them slept under open canvas, while a few lucky ones shared roughly built billets.

There were caves in the cliffs that could have housed even more. Duardo had vetoed the idea because to be caught in a place with only one exit was a bad idea. The stretched canvases were the next best idea.

The poor conditions would not be helping with morale. Yet as Calli walked along the pathways marked with rocks, between billets and tents toward the big white tent in the middle of the group, she noted that discipline was not slipping. Everyone was washed and shaved. Their uniforms were neat and clean. Belongings under the awnings were stowed away properly.

She wondered if theft was an issue, although if it was, it was the army’s problem. She had too many problems of her own to worry about something outside her control.

There were guards on either side of the big tent’s opening. They both straightened to attention as she approached but didn’t salute. Calli was still getting used to the army acknowledgement of her position. “Thank you,” she murmured as she ducked under the flap and stepped inside.

They had laid wooden flooring down inside the tent, although beach sand scattered across the surface. A big table sat at the end of the tent and battered second-hand filing cabinets lined the short walls. A junior officer flipped through files in one of the drawers.

Four officers stood around the table. General Flores sat on the only chair in the tent, staring down at something on the table. So were the officers. One of them was Duardo.

“Excuse me, General Flores,” Calli said.

They all turned to her and Flores jumped to his feet. “Señora Calli,” he acknowledged.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. A message came from Pascuallita that Téra cannot decode. I was wondering if I might borrow Colonel Peña for a moment, as he might be able to.”

Duardo pointed to the table. “We already have. Come and see.”

Calli stepped up to the edge of the table and bent to study the sheet of paper Flores had been staring at.

“Do not read it aloud, or speak aloud about what it says,” Duardo warned. “These walls are far too thin.”

She glanced at him, startled, then bent to read the sheet.

At the top of the page was the garbled message Mr. Intensity had posted, full of fury and bad English. At least, it looked that way to the casual reader. Beneath was the decoded message.

Carmen Escobedo alive and in contact. Part of Resistance group somewhere south of capital. Meet?

Calli caught her breath and straightened. “Will you agree?” she asked Flores. She squashed the impulse to call Nick and break the happy news that his niece was alive. He was too busy to be tripped up with personal news. When he arrived back in Acapulco, she could tell him face to face.

“This group is not known to us,” Duardo said. “If they’re well-founded, we could use them. We must meet, to establish communications and measure their numbers and worth.”

Calli nodded. “I’ll leave that in your capable hands, Colonel Peña.”

Duardo nodded. “I have already taken steps to see that this is done. I can brief you once the meeting has taken place if you wish.”

“Is there a need for me to know that part of your operations?” Calli asked.

Duardo glanced at Flores, then back at her. “No, you would be better to not know at this stage. Thank you for understanding.”

Calli gave him a smile. “I will leave you to your deliberations, gentlemen. Thank you for the good news.”

She slipped out of the tent and wished heavily that Nick was here. She wanted to share the news with him. Instead, she hurried back along the beach, heading for the stairs up to the big house.

A gun-toting guerilla seemed to be a perfect fit for Carmen, with her passion and drive. Minnie would be pleased to know Carmen was safe…well, as safe as a Resistance fighter could be on Vistaria right now.