by Donna Young
“It’s a chance I needed to take.” Renalto glanced over, noting that Cristo’s son sat at a table nearby. An electronic game in his hands and speaker buds in his ears. “Is he safe?”
“My son does not care about you, Renalto,” Cristo retorted. “He is waiting for the car to take him to the mission. You can speak freely in front of him. He’s involved in his games.”
“I had the situation under control. There was no need to kill Leopold.”
“Leopold was added insurance,” Cristo replied. “I need you to make sure the DEA and Coast Guard do not interfere with my shipment. If you were suspected of treason, it would cause problems. Killing your friend and attacking your residence guarantees that Calvin West thinks you have not been compromised.”
“The plan was for me to turn them in,” Renalto argued.
“And that did not happen.” Cristo shrugged. “Plans change.”
“How in hell did I know he was going to take off in my car at the airport?”
Solaris stepped forward, a drink in one hand, sunglasses on his face, masking his eyes. He handed the drink to Cristo. “The guards have asked permission to clean Marsh up. Otherwise, the stench is going to attract unwanted attention.”
“From who?” The orders were to leave him be and Cristo didn’t like his orders, no matter how unusual, questioned. But he was a reasonable man. To a certain point.
“Delivery people, mostly.”
“You take care of it,” Cristo ordered, then took a sip of his gin and tonic. “Personally. Hose him down or something. I do not want anyone else near him. He is too…persuasive. I do not need him turning my guards against me.”
“You might want to reconsider your order in the near future. West escaped to the jungle,” Renalto cut in with impatience. “It won’t be long before he tries to snatch Marsh.”
“My point exactly,” Delgado said tersely. “This should have been handled first at the airport, then today at the airstrip.” He set his drink down and took another towel from a nearby lounge chair.
“Solaris blew the pick up at the airstrip. Jorgie at the airport.”
“So my next question is why aren’t you out looking for him?” Delgado asked and rubbed the towel over his wet hair.
“It’s smarter to wait,” Renalto insisted. “Searching for them in the jungle would risk killing them with a stray bullet. We need them alive until we find the prototype.”
“Indeed. Correct me if I’m wrong, but wasn’t it you who recommended paying off Alvarez’s pilot so that we could take care of all this at the airstrip?”
“A miscalculation.” Renalto shoved his fingers through his hair. “The pilot screwed up. He tipped off West somehow.”
“And now?”
“Esteban killed the pilot then returned to his villa. Without the Cutting woman,” Solaris stated. “She is with West in the jungle.”
“We will have West and the woman. Do not worry, Mr. Delgado,” Renalto assured him. “Within the next twenty-four hours.”
“Worry? I am not worried, Renalto,” Cristo said silkily. “You see, I understand what will happen to you if this minor hitch is not taken care of in a timely matter.”
“I understand. West suspects Jason Marsh is being held here at the compound,” Renalto advised him. “He will show up. We’ll be waiting.”
“Not you,” Cristo corrected. “I have something more interesting for you to do.”
“I like interesting,” Renalto replied slowly.
Cristo’s eyes flickered to Solaris, who pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. “I need you to contact my associate in Washington, D.C. He’ll call you on that phone.”
Solaris handed the cell to Renalto. “Don’t lose it.”
“I won’t,” Renalto assured him.
“We are running out of time. The shipment can only be delayed for a few more days,” Solaris put in. “Any more than forty-eight hours will raise suspicions with the port authorities.”
“I’ll take care of the timetable,” Renalto snapped back. “Once we get West and Julia Cutting we’ll have the MONGREL.”
“Any unusual delays and the port authorities will make sure it gets back to the Americans,” Solaris indicated. “Captain Stravos won’t be happy hitting open sea with that type of risk hanging over his ship.”
“Check in with your people, Renalto. See if West has made contact with Cain MacAlister, then report back to Solaris.” The fact that Cristo deliberately put Renalto at a distance using a middle man didn’t escape Renalto’s notice. “I’ll be looking for West and the woman within the next twenty-four hours,” Cristo said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Renalto responded, then turned to leave, only to stop short on Cristo’s next words.
“However, if he doesn’t show, Renalto. I’ll be looking for you. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Solaris waited until Renalto left, then turned to his boss. “Captain Stravos could create a problem with our new timetable,” Solaris commented.
“Damian can be controlled. Right now he is otherwise occupied. I’ve told Rosario to entertain the captain for the next few days.”
Solaris flexed his jaw, but the giant’s next words remained even, almost casual. “Is that wise?”
“It is necessary. Our deadline is moving closer.” Cristo put on his sunglasses and lay back on the lounger, his face turned toward the sun.
Another vanity, Solaris thought with disgust.
A limo pulled up to the side of the house and honked. Argus stood and gathered his backpack. He walked over to his father and gave him a hug. “Goodbye, Papa.”
Cristo tapped the boy’s cheek. “Study hard. Impress the Padre Dominic and he will tell me. Then you will be rewarded.”
“Yes, sir,” Argus answered, the skin on his cheeks pale.
Solaris watched the ten-year-old walk away for a moment, smiling when the boy stomped his foot in a puddle by the pool.
It also reminded him of another issue to address.
“We may have a problem,” the big man advised Cristo quietly. “I found footprints outside Jason Marsh’s cell. It seems someone is visiting our prisoner.”
“Did you take a look at the security log?”
“Nothing unusual showed up. But I made note of the shoe marks. I can trace them.” Solaris stepped toward the puddle. He noticed the shoe print still wet on the cement. Small feet, narrow at the heel.
Brows drawn together, his gaze followed the boy until he disappeared inside the limo.
“Did you talk with Jorgie?”
“Yes. He assured me that none of his men would dare to break his orders to leave the prisoner alone.”
“The cameras?”
“Nothing. Whoever it is knows how to avoid being seen.” With a small swipe of his foot, Solaris rubbed out the print, then glanced once again at the retreating limo.
“Argus is returning tonight?” Solaris asked.
“Yes. I want him here. Then tomorrow he will stay with Padre Dominic while Rosario and I bring the captain from Caracas.” Cristo paused. “Why?”
Solaris shrugged. “No reason.”
“And this intruder?” Cristo demanded.
Solaris looked once again at the cement. “I’ll be waiting for him tonight.”
THEY’D WALKED FOR TWENTY MINUTES before they reached Miguel’s home. Past dead crops of banana trees, fruit bushes that were no more than branches, and shriveled vines.
“Acid drops,” Miguel said when he noticed Julia’s glance. “A government program to kill coca plants. But they are not discretionary on which crops they kill. Many times they kill the wrong plants,” Miguel pointed out. “So even if we could make money selling produce, the government has made it harder for us.”
The house lay on the outskirts of a village of no more than a dozen houses. In a glance, Julia realized Miguel’s home was twice the size of the other grass huts. Sturdier, its sides reinforced with discarded, broken lumber, its roof s
hingled with wood. But still much more primitive than Julia had ever seen.
A woman came out on the porch. Petite in stature, no more than five feet, with a big round belly and long, wavy black hair. A small baby girl, no more than a year old, sat on one hip.
“Consuelo, look who is here,” Miguel boasted.
“Calvin West,” Consuelo exclaimed, a big smile spread across her face only to turn into a scowl a moment later. “You did not come just for a visit. You came to ask my Miguel a favor, didn’t you?”
Cal nodded. “Delgado has a friend of mine, señora, in his prison. Miguel has agreed to help me.”
“Consuelo. I help my friend because he has helped us,” Miguel scolded. “It just so happens that if Cal had not come today, we would be telling a different story. Robard and I were jumped by two of Delgado’s men.”
“What? And you did not tell me right away?” She shook a spoon at him even as her eyes skimmed over both her husband and children. “Anyone hurt?”
“No, Mama,” the kids chorused.
Consuelo studied them for another minute, checking for herself. “Inside then and get washed for dinner.” She handed the baby to Robard and waited for all four to go into the house. Then Consuelo spat on the porch. “That is what I think of Delgado.”
“Do his men attack the villagers often, Miguel?” Julia asked.
“Often enough. Men and women are killed every week,” Consuelo answered for her husband, the anger barely controlled. “My eldest son was coming back from the mission. He wasn’t even helping Miguel that day. Still, Philippe got caught in the crossfire of Cristo Delgado’s men and their target practice.”
“Which men?” Cal asked.
“Jorgie and some others. They left my son’s body by the river for the animals. They did not even bring him home.”
Julia saw Cal’s jaw tighten.
“Enough, Consuelo. You will spoil our guests’ appetites,” Miguel said, his tone soft, his words firm. “We will leave the past for discussion after our meal, bella.”
“Ha! Don’t sweet-talk me, Miguel. I am not beautiful, with my belly it makes me the size of a cow.” Still, she smiled.
“What is for dinner?” Cal asked, charming. The genuine kind that she saw when they had first gone out together. Sadness squeezed at her chest.
The table was made of scratched, sturdy bamboo. The kids played with pots and pans in the corner.
The scent of flour, onion and chilies hung pleasantly in the air. “We have beans and tortillas with some chicken I bartered for with one of our neighbors.”
She turned to Julia and Cal. “After dinner, I would like to find out more about your friend that Delgado holds.”
Consuelo slammed the platter on the counter. “He is the devil. He owns more than the land. He owns the government. Controls most of the shipping. What he doesn’t control, his friend Esteban Alvarez does.” She held up a bowl. “We feed our children corn flour and beans because he takes the food to feed his belly.”
“They do not own the church.”
“Even Delgado would not take on that sin.” Consuelo slammed the bowl down next to the plate.
“What do you mean?” Julia asked.
“Our old priest, Padre Dominic, runs the mission not too far from here. Shrine of the Little Flower. He and the other priests have taught our children for many years. Crime has escalated to such a point that we fear for our children, except at the school. The mission is the one place that does not get touched.”
“Delgado protects the school? Is the priest one of Delgado’s supporters?”
“Padre Dominic?” Consuelo snorted. “No, but he does try to keep the peace.”
“He is my uncle,” Miguel added. “My mother’s younger brother. He protects the children. And their parents.”
“Cristo Delgado is afraid if he does not respect the church, bad things will happen to his empire.”
“He sends his son there to show the people he is one of us,” Miguel explained. “He believes we are that ignorant.”
“But he is kept isolated from the rest of the children, Miguel,” Consuelo corrected. “He is given private lessons from the priests.”
“Delgado pays for the boy to be taught. Padre Dominic uses the money to pay for the other children’s supplies.”
“The boy is not one of us, Miguel. Robard says Argus Delgado stays to himself. He makes no friends at the mission with the other children. He will be like his father.”
Julia hoped not. “How far is the mission from Delgado’s villa?”
“Not far. A mile or more through the jungle. Five miles by road, if they aren’t washed out.”
“Everyone sit now,” Consuelo said and placed a bowl of chopped bananas and oranges into a bowl.
“My wife, she works at the villa. In the laundry three times a week,” he explained to Julia and settled the baby into her high chair.
“Have you heard about a new prisoner, Consuelo?” Cal asked. “A man by the name of Jason Marsh?”
Consuelo shook her head after a moment and handed him a plate of beans and gestured to the table. After Cal placed it in the center, he took a seat next to Julia.
Consuelo settled next to the baby and waited for the other children to sit. Then she started filling their plates. “The laundry is filled with gossip every morning. The guards flirt with the younger girls and sometimes mention the business of the villa. We older women listen very closely.” She stopped for a moment and caught her Lila’s hand before she put bananas into her hair. “But I have heard nothing of your friend.”
“Then he is dead, I’m sure,” Miguel said without preamble. He grabbed a tortilla and took a bite. “No one talks of the dead.”
AFTER DINNER, THE MEN TOOK THEIR conversation outside. Robard led the children into the back room for bed.
Julia wandered to the door, hoping to catch a word or two. Cursing herself for giving up her secret fluency in Spanish. Had she not, they’d be talking in front of her.
“It is no use trying to eavesdrop. They do not want us to hear what they are planning,” Consuelo commented, disgusted. “We bear children, teach them, love them, then watch them die. Yet, dealing with the devil is too much for us to handle,” she scoffed.
The baby fussed. Without thinking, Julia picked her up and cuddled her against her chest. She remembered how Cal treated the younger children at the cocaine site, and later played with them after dinner.
This wasn’t a man who could harm a boy like Argus.
“Cal wants into Delgado’s compound,” she said absently and hugged the baby.
“Unless he is a woman, he is not allowed past the grounds. Only women work inside the villa.”
“Why is that?”
Consuelo smiled. “Because they believe we cannot do them harm.”
“I know a couple of women who would do them serious damage.” She thought of her friend, Lara Mercer, the President’s daughter, who also had been one of Labyrinth’s operatives.
She placed her cheek against the baby’s head, felt the soft tuft of hair tickle her cheek.
“How did you and Miguel meet Cal?”
“A similar situation like you saw today,” Consuelo answered. “Philippe and Miguel were buying supplies from Cristo Delgado’s men. The gasoline and ammonia mostly. Jorgie showed up with his men and started threatening the men with guns. Cal showed up out of nowhere and started shooting up their cars from the bushes. Had Jorgie chasing his tail trying to find him in the jungle.”
Consuelo laughed and shook her head. “Jorgie lost a lot of power that day. Cal showed many of us Jorgie’s stupidity.”
“Emasculated him, but didn’t kill him,” Julia reasoned. Much more damaging to Cristo’s chain of command.
“Jorgie would have been better off if Cal had killed him, I think.”
Julia agreed. Something she was sure Cal was aware of when he let Jorgie live. “Consuelo, do you think you could get me inside?”
“It is dangerous. There ar
e cameras and guards positioned all over the compound.” The other woman stopped for a moment and thought. She glanced at the men outside. “What you are doing, will it save the rest of my children from being harmed by Delgado and his men?”
“Yes,” Julia replied with conviction. “If we succeed, it should put Delgado and anyone like him out of business for good.”
“And to do this, you need to find Jason Marsh?”
“Yes,” Julia said. “If he is there somewhere in the villa, we need to get him out.”
“All right. We can do that,” Consuelo agreed after a moment. “But we must act quickly. Tomorrow morning.”
“You have a way in?”
“Yes. But it is risky,” Consuelo considered. “But less risky for us than the men. They will have to stay behind.”
“That’s it then.” Julia glanced out of the window. “I can’t see Cal agreeing to any kind of plan that doesn’t include him.”
“Then we won’t ask him,” Consuelo answered, her eyes on the chopping knife. “If I am injured, I will need assistance. We will dress you in my clothes and darken your skin with henna. With your eyes and hair, you will pass.”
“And the men?”
“By the time they realize we are gone, we will be back. And with your friend, Jason.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Julia admitted. “But how are we going to manage sneaking away?”
“Easy.” Consuelo reached for a jar in the cupboard. “Leave it to me,” she smiled, holding up the brown spotted leaves. “And don’t drink the coffee.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rosario entered the veranda of the villa. The apathy brought on by the wine was wearing off. The starkness of the sunlight faded, diffused by the evening chill. But the rays still cut into her, making her eyes smart, her skin prick.
“Join me for a walk?” Solaris stood to the side, in the shadows, enjoying her scent of jasmine and soap.
Rosario started, then instantly relaxed. “Why not?”
“I talked with Cristo today.”