Blue Knight (28 page)

Téra scrambled to put the gun against the back of his head. “You can’t send that.”

“You’ve already proved you can’t kill me, Téra. I can send this.” He kept typing.

She shifted the gun to rest it against his thigh and pulled the trigger.

The noise inside the cabin was huge. The impact collapsed the fragile folding metal chair and pushed Lucas back against the bunk. He cried out and clutched at his leg with both hands.

Blood oozed out from between his long fingers.

Lucas half lay against the bunk, breathing heavily. Blood trickled from his mouth as he stared at her. “It’s too late, Téra. I’ve already told them about Nemesis.”

She turned and yanked the cord from the battery out of the laptop. But the laptop continued to run anyway. Téra rolled her eyes as she remembered that laptops had their own in-built batteries. She pressed down on the power button until the screen went dark. The computer was turned off.

Then, one-handed, she picked up the laptop and lifted it above her head, ready to smash it onto the floor.

“No, don’t!” Lucas yelled, holding up his bloody hand.

She hesitated. “Why not?”

From outside the cabin she heard voices. Boots on the steps.

“Téra,” Lucas said.

He had a gun now and it was trained on her.

Téra put the laptop back down, her heart thundering. Where had the gun come from? She had looked away for the merest split second. She had got a taste of just how truly dangerous Lucas was.

Tears filled her eyes. “Go ahead,” she said. “I know you really could pull the trigger.”

The gun stayed lined up on her chest. Lucas’ gaze stayed on her face.

The door burst open. Duardo, Nick and Calli pushed into the tiny cabin. Duardo had the big black satellite phone against his ear. All three of them carried handguns.

Nick held up his hand when he saw that both Téra and Lucas had guns pointed at each other.

Lucas swiveled his head to look at the three newcomers. He seemed to be having difficulty moving. He focused on Nick. “I saw the broadcast. It sickened me. I thought you should know.”

Nick nodded.

Lucas looked back at Téra. “I love you. I always have.” He lifted the gun, aiming for her head, his gaze locked on her.

Time slowed to a crawl. Téra saw all three of the guns aimed at Lucas lift in reaction. He had deliberately baited them. Calli was the fastest of them all, even though Duardo had been practicing since basic training. She was a natural at it. From this distance, she would not fail to get a kill shot.

Téra screamed her protest, already knowing it was too late.

But it was Duardo’s bullet that hit home first this time. Téra actually saw it strike Lucas’ temple, knocking him onto his side.

Instant death.

Time restored itself to normal. The echo of the three shots in that enclosed space and the smell of gunpowder was overwhelming.

Téra stared down at Lucas’ body. Someone was trying to pull the gun out of her hand. Hands were on her arms, trying to lead her away. She resisted.

Calli’s voice. “She’s in shock. She needs a doctor.”

“He didn’t destroy his computer.” Duardo’s voice, behind her. “The information we can get from this will be invaluable.”

“He wouldn’t let me,” Téra said.

“What was that, Téra?” Calli responded gently, trying to wrap one of the blankets from the bunk around her shoulders. The blanket smelled of Lucas. Abruptly, Téra’s chest unlocked and she began to sob. “He w-wouldn’t let me destroy it! He deliberately left it there for you! Ah, god help me!”

Duardo, who hated to show any sort of public sentiment, especially with her, was suddenly there, holding her. Her big brother was hugging her.

That told her how bad it was.

Her sobs intensified.

A few minutes later something pricked her skin, cold rushed up her arm and dark peace descended. She embraced it with panicky relief.

* * * * *

Nick hooked a submachine gun over his shoulder, reloaded his nickel-plated Colt and pushed it back into the holster strapped on his hip and grabbed one of the last bottles of Vistarian mescal off the sideboard. He caught Duardo’s eye as he left.

He thumbed a text message to Calli into his cell phone one-handed as he walked down to the beach.

He didn’t have to wait long. Duardo arrived barely three minutes later. His standard issue Glock was strapped to his hip and there was a SIG SG 550 assault rifle over his shoulder.

“That’s not standard issue,” Nick pointed out.

“I won it from an American who thought a pair of eights was good enough to ride on,” Duardo said. He grinned. “He made the mistake of thinking because I couldn’t speak English very well, I couldn’t play cards very well either.” He lifted a brow. “Who else are we waiting on?”

“Calli.”

Duardo nodded. Nick thought it was interesting that Duardo, who was such a typical Vistarian in so many ways, had no trouble accepting Calli as an equal and at times as his superior.

Nick cracked the seal on the mescal and held it out to Duardo. “To keep you warm.”

“We’ll be out for a while, then.”

“We could be.”

Duardo took a good swig and passed the bottle back. He breathed out between his teeth. “It’s been a while since I tasted the home brew. I’d forgotten that aftertaste. Phew.”

“A reminder of the ultimate goal of this conversation. I thought it appropriate.” Nick took a belt himself and felt it burn on the way down.

Calli crossed the sand toward them, a dark profile against the harsh lights bathing the beach. Nick saw the twin holsters, one on each hip and knew she had taken his instructions seriously. Then she flicked her thick braid over her shoulder and he saw the handle of the machete jutting up from between her shoulder blades and realized she had added another weapon to her usual arsenal, just as he and Duardo had.

He wasn’t the only one feeling completely spooked tonight.

Calli stopped in front of the pair of them.

“Is Téra comfortable?” Duardo asked her.

“She’s sleeping. The doctor put her out and she’ll sleep for about ten hours and wake naturally. After that, when she’s ready, she’ll need to talk.” Calli cocked her head at Duardo. “She may want to talk to you about it, Duardo. You’ll have to break down and actually talk about emotions and yucky stuff like that. There’s not too many people around for her to talk to. You were there tonight and you’re family.”

Duardo shift uneasily. “If I must, then of course…” But Nick could see his discomfort building and grinned.

“How on earth did you manage to woo Minnie, big guy?” he asked. “Because I just know the strong and silent routine wouldn’t go down with her, either.”

Duardo cleared his throat. “That’s for between Minnie and I, surely?”

“And me,” Calli corrected.

Duardo frowned, confused.

“You say ‘and me’ not ‘and I’,” Calli explained.

“I hate bloody English,” Duardo muttered.

Nick nodded. “It’s not pretty,” he agreed. “But we’re sticking with it, especially for right now.” He turned and started walking along the beach. The other two fell in with him, one on either side. “This is an official meeting, but there’ll be no notes and no official record of the meeting taking place. This is as sub-rosa as I can make it. That’s why it’s just us three. Clear?”

They both nodded.

Nick passed the mescal to Calli. She didn’t wipe the neck or hesitate. She tipped the bottle up and took a hefty swallow of the contents. Then she handed the bottle back to Nick without comment and licked her lips.

Duardo grinned.

“We’re going to keep walking so that no one can sneak up on us and listen in. I’ve got so paranoid I just don’t want to take the chance. We found Lucas, but until we gut his computer and figure out if there’s anyone else, we can’t relax. Even then, we still can’t be sure.” He let the silence build for a few steps. “Duardo, you know Daniel Castellano.”

“I…knew him.” There was awkwardness in Duardo’s voice. He sounded apologetic.

“You know who he is now, don’t you?”

Duardo sighed. “Nemesis.”

“You know who Nemesis is, don’t you?”

“As Zalaya, I heard of his reputation, but in the past tense. I was told he was dead, that he had been executed at the outbreak of the revolution—a preemptive strike.” Now his tone was firmer. This was more comfortable ground for Duardo. Less emotional.

“I’m afraid I don’t, though,” Calli said. “Duardo was the one on the phone talking to Cristián, so he got that end of the conversation. And Nick, you seem to know all about this Nemesis already, so you’re ahead of me there. You both need to back up and fill me in.”

“Duardo, why don’t you start?” Nick said. “Get it over and done with.”

“Thanks,” Duardo said dryly. He walked for several paces in silence. Nick pushed the mescal at him and he took it absently. “Daniel and his family lived in Pascuallita. Daniel is the same age as me, but we went to different schools. His family came from…there is no English translation for it. ‘Down the hill’ is the closest. Nick?”

“Lower class,” Nick murmured. “Working class. If you care about such things. But in Pascuallita it’s more to do with where you live and how you conduct your life, than what you were born into.”

“Like American ‘white trash’?” Calli suggested.

“Yes, very close to that,” Duardo agreed. “His mother left when he was very young. She just disappeared one day. Her clothing and possessions were all gone. No one knows why, not even Daniel. I’m not even sure his father knows, although when he got drunk, he liked to hint that he knew and it was all Daniel’s fault. Then Daniel’s father died when we were about eleven. I remember it, because there was a big discussion in the town about what to do with ‘the boy’. My mother and father talked about it at dinner one night, while we were all sitting around the table. Pascuallita was small enough then that every family’s business was the whole town’s business. So we all got to talk about Daniel’s future and figure it out. A family took him in, but they were just using him as an unpaid servant and everyone could see it, including my father, who got very angry about that. So just like that, my father decided we would take him in. About four weeks after Daniel’s father died, Daniel came to live with us. My father announced that Daniel was our new brother.”

Duardo stopped talking abruptly. He drank from the mescal.

Nick stayed silent. He could hear how Duardo hated talking about this and if he interrupted with questions, Duardo was going to clam up.

Was this how Calli always managed to scrape painful stuff out of him? Was he learning empathy from her?

He glanced at her, but they had left the lights behind and in the dark he couldn’t see enough of her expression to know what she was thinking.

“Daniel was angry and hostile, but my father was patient and he eventually got his way. I was in awe of Daniel. We were the same age, but Daniel always seemed to be older than god to me. He knew so much, had experienced so much and seemed so wise. To this day I have no idea what Daniel saw in me, but we became this odd pair of friends. Then, when I was sixteen, my father died.” Duardo drank from the bottle again. “Someone had better take this,” he said, his voice rough.

Calli took the bottle from him.

“My mother insisted that Daniel was part of the family, but even he could see that she couldn’t afford to keep paying for him to stay there with her single income. He found a family in town who had a printing business who would let him help out after school for room and board and moved in with them. My parents had managed to teach him one thing; that he needed to graduate high school, at least and so he did. It took him a year longer than I did because he had to work a lot of the time in order to eat, but he graduated. That meant he could join the army and qualify for officer training after basics, if they liked what they saw.”

“Jesus,” Nick breathed. He made a mental note to himself to review welfare and educations systems if ever they got that chance.

“That’s why Daniel ended up under my command eighteen months later. Both of us immediately asked for a reassignment but while we were waiting for it to come through, there was a skirmish on Pequeña del Sur with some rebel factions that later would become the more formalized
insurrectos
. Back then, they were just dissatisfied villagers picking up guns and shooting at the Army because they had a beef about how things were being run. On this particular day they were a bit more organized than most and we got pinned down in a mountain crevasse and called for a chopper evac.

“While we were waiting, the rebels had called for reinforcement of their own. Their backup came over the ridge from the other side. We saw them on the mobile radar. Daniel, who was covering our tail, would have been caught in the crossfire, so I dropped my pack and sprinted back to cover him and bring him up to where we were protected by the higher sides of the ridge. I got there just as the reinforcements cleared the ridge and brought him down flat.”

“You saved his life,” Calli concluded.

“That’s what he has always said,” Duardo replied. He shrugged. “There was a pretty good chance Daniel could have scrambled out of there all on his own, too. He’s a damn good basic foot soldier.”

Nick wisely kept his mouth shut. If Duardo needed to justify it, he’d let him. But he’d done enough jungle and mountain work to know that if you were caught standing up between two lines of enemy fire, you had a slim to nothing chance of shinnying out of the way, no matter how fast you ran. For some reason, Duardo didn’t want to be credited with saving his friend’s life.

“Daniel never forgave me,” Duardo finished. He reached for the bottle again and Calli handed it to him.

Ahh…
Nick thought to himself.

“What?” Calli breathed. “Forgave you for what?”

“Forgetting about my men. For giving him a higher priority. For making it personal.” Duardo shrugged. “He was right.”

“No, he wasn’t!” Calli said hotly.

“Yes, he was,” Nick said gently. “I don’t know that never forgiving you is fair, but he was right, Duardo. There were other ways you could have dealt with it.”