White Dawn: A Military Romantic Suspense Novel (19 page)

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 simply because it was the social
center of the camp.

Garrett and Nemesis were still talking,
so Carmen settled on the brick next to Garrett and fired up the
laptop. She inserted the USB drive, which flashed at her, then a
dialogue 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 started streaming.
Nick was leaving the Acapulco airport, a beautiful blonde woman by
his side. He had been 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 leaned 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 very 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, for 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, but
she is easier on the eyes.” He picked up his pack and shrugged into
it.

Carmen thought Nemesis was fairly 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 that she didn’t feel any sort of 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, but after being away from
email for weeks, none of it would be urgent anymore.

Then she set up a new email account, one
that 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 watching 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. But there was no one
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. “But you’re not anymore, are
you?”

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

She wanted to say ‘yes’, but 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 very 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, the
type of man who I knew would never commit, who was married or
married to his job, or so self-absorbed it would never occur to him
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,” she said
softly.

“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, but 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 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 very pale 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 it 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, then she rested by leaning against the trees, but
otherwise, she walked.

Archie was somewhere on the other side
of the line and 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, but Carmen knew she had heard something. So 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 very edges of
her hearing….

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

“Shhh.”

He stepped out into the open, like 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 very
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 over 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,” she said, as Archie started chopping. 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.

And now, she could hear the clack of
ties and the low murmur of the engine.

“Soon,” she warned Archie.

He didn’t answer. Instead, 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 very
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
that all 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 start chopping at the opposite side of the trunk from
before. 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 watched 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 bit her lip, feeling the weight of
responsibility settle heavily, and thought it through. If the train
took longer to get here than she had estimated, that was a good
thing. Archie was chewing through the trunk with the efficiency of
a chain saw, but he had a way to go yet and they still had to
reposition the tree once it was 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. But 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?