The man in the suit took his seat behind the desk. I smelled more than heard him light up another cigarette.
Lifting my head, I brought my eyes up to meet his.
He leaned back in his creaky chair and propped his heels on the edge of the desk. Closing his eyes he took a long drag, and then blew it out through his nose.
What a nasty habit.
At least thirty minutes ticked by as Jonathan, Parrot, and I stood there in silence and the suited man continued smoking. I wanted to remind him that secondhand smoke was just as harmful as if we were smoking ourselves. But, of course, I kept my opinion to myself.
The guard finally finished searching our things and came back to his original position standing next to the suited man.
The phone rattled, and everyone in the room except Jonathan jolted.
The man in the suit picked it up, said a few things, and then listened. “
Gracias.”
He hung up the phone. “You are free to leave.” He dismissed us using perfect English.
I was astonished. He could speak English? I should’ve suspected. One of the main things I’d learned in the Specialists was that people were never what they seemed.
Following Jonathan’s lead, Parrot and I quickly crammed our belongings into our backpacks and duffels and quietly shuffled from the shack.
Bright heat hit us in a wave as we stepped outside. I took a deep, clean breath, welcoming the muggy warm reprieve from the smoky air-conditioned room.
Beside me Parrot did the same.
I glanced at my watch. We’d been in there for over an hour.
Time flies when you’re having fun.
I rolled my eyes at my own stupid humor.
“Don’t say anything,” Jonathan instructed, quickly leading us toward the gate.
Guillermo, the man who’d greeted us when we first arrived, still stood on the other side of the fence.
A guard with a machine gun opened the chain-link gate and motioned us through.
Silently we filed past. And continuing not to speak, we followed Guillermo through a gravel parking lot, zigzagging around vehicles.
We came to a stop at an old green Land Rover with a rusted white top. It had a tire mounted on its hood, a steel rack on top, and a ladder climbing up the back. A shovel, pick, and hatchet were strapped to the white top. The vehicle looked well used, uncomfortable, and in dire need of a bath.
Guillermo turned the knob on the back window, and it popped up. Jonathan tossed his duffel in, grabbed my backpack and did the same, then signaled for Parrot.
“Climb in,” Jonathan told us.
Taking my laptop off, I handed it to Jonathan and climbed up through the window. Jonathan gave me my computer, and I crawled across our stuff he’d tossed in. Two padded benches sat facing each other. I took the one on the left. Parrot climbed in and took the bench across from me. Jonathan closed and latched the back window, cutting off our meager fresh air.
Through the muddy side glass I watched as he and Guillermo came down the side of the vehicle to the front. Guillermo climbed behind the wheel while Jonathan hopped into the passenger side. Guillermo cranked the diesel engine, grinded it into gear, and drove off.
Jonathan slid open the rectangular window that connected the front to the back. “If you guys need air, open the sides.”
Parrot and I moved at once, winding open the side windows to let in a stream of humid air. Guillermo and Jonathan opened their windows and began a conversation in Spanish.
I looked at Parrot.
“They’re talking about what happened in the guard shack,” he translated.
“So Guillermo’s one of us?” I whispered to Parrot.
“I’m with the IPNC,” Guillermo answered.
“Oh. Sorry.” I didn’t know why I’d apologized. But it embarrassed me Guillermo had heard my whisper. I should’ve just asked him straight on.
Guillermo drove us from the airport and onto a two-lane highway.
Parrot pushed out what sounded like a stressed breath.
“You okay?” I asked.
“GiGi, I was really scared back there.”
I smiled a little at his admission. “I know—me, too.”
“You’ve been on a lot of missions. Does that kind of stuff happen all the time?”
I thought back to being kidnapped in Ushbania, thrown in a dungeon in Rissala, and coming face-to-face with my parents’ killer. “Yes.” And strangely enough, I didn’t feel nearly as shaken up as usual.
I mean, I’d actually been amused at the gruff manner of the man in the suit. If that would have happened on my first mission, I would have been a nervous wreck. It made me feel a bit evolved, for lack of a better word. Like I was finally getting the hang of this new life of mine.
Parrot didn’t say anything else, and so I turned to the world outside. I tried to take in some scenery, but the muddy windows made it nearly impossible.
Sometime later we exited the highway onto a dirt road. Parrot and I gripped our benches as the Land Rover bumped down the road.
“You doing okay?” Parrot asked.
I smiled at the sweet question. “Yeah, I’m okay. You?”
Parrot shrugged. “I’ll survive.”
I reached across the small distance and squeezed his knee. “Remember I’m here for you. I’m a great listener. And I’m excellent at keeping secrets. If you ever want to talk . . .”
“Thanks.” He looked away, and I took that as my cue he was done with the topic.
The Land Rover hit a pothole, jolting me, and I felt the sketch scratch my bare skin. “Oh!” I reached inside the front of my cargos and pulled it out. Gingerly, I unfolded the sweaty drawing, praying the wetness wouldn’t tear it. I needed to get it scanned and into my laptop before it was damaged.
I blew on it, trying to dry it a bit.
Using his T-shirt, Parrot dried his sweaty face. “Hey, pretty slick. I didn’t know you took that.”
I smiled at his surprise.
“Can I see it?” Parrot asked.
I handed it over. “Careful, it’s wet.”
Gingerly, he took it, cradling it in his hands.
Pulling the rubber band from my limp ponytail, I smoothed my damp hair and redid it. “What does it say below the picture?”
He studied it, balancing it in his hands as the Land Rover bumped down the road. “She’s wanted for arson, wire fraud, assault, larceny, burglary, stalking, conspiracy, robbery, drug manufacturing, embezzlement, perjury, extortion, murder, forgery, money laundering, manslaughter, kidnapping . . .”
On and on he read, and when he finally finished, I simply blinked. “Is that even possible? For one person to commit all those crimes?”
With a shrug, he handed the paper back. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Just because it says it on paper doesn’t mean it’s true,” Jonathan commented through the window. He nodded to the sketch. “Get that scanned into your computer as soon as you can. I want to know who that woman is.”
“Yes, sir.” He’d read my mind.
Then the Land Rover jerked to a stop, and the drawing tore in half.
[6]
I stared at the moist, frayed edges of the torn picture, and my heart sank. The tear zigzagged through one eye, down the nose, and slashed across the mouth. Key features that any identification program would need to make a match to this sketch.
I should’ve never gotten it out and opened it up. Especially in a bumpy vehicle. For a genius I could be real stupid sometimes. Now I may never know who this woman was.
Parrot reached across and touched my shoulder. “We’ll fix it, GiGi. We’ll fix it. I’ll help you.”
Giving Parrot a tiny smile I really didn’t feel, I pulled a folder from my laptop case and opened it up. I slid two pieces of paper out, carefully laid the sketch between them, and tucked the papers back inside the folder. With a sigh, I put it back inside my laptop case and zipped it up. Why did I always make such stupid mistakes?
Guillermo rolled up his window and shoved open his door. “Okay, this is it,” he said, interrupting my disappointment. “We go the rest of the way on horseback.”
Jonathan rolled up his window, too. “Close up back there.”
Parrot and I wound the side glass shut while Guillermo popped open the back hatch and began unloading our things.
I climbed out first and came to an abrupt stop.
I looked around and saw green. Everywhere. In every shade imaginable. Huge, gigantic leaves, some as big as me. Weird plants like nothing I’d ever seen. And trees—my head dropped back as I followed one all the way up—trees as big as skyscrapers.
I turned a slow circle—I couldn’t see anything but green. I couldn’t even tell where the Land Rover had come from. It appeared as if the foliage had immediately covered our tracks.
And—I straightened a bit—the jungle seemed to pulse and grow right in front of me as it closed us in.
I shut my eyes and gave my head a quick shake.
“I’d recommend you change your shoes,” Guillermo suggested, nodding down at my flip-flops.
I completely agreed. Flip-flops and trekking through a jungle were two things that obviously did not go together.
Kneeling beside my backpack, I dug through the disorderliness the guard had left and found a pair of socks and what I affectionately referred to as my kick-butt boots. TL had given each of us a pair.
Very military, with steel toes and thick heels, the black boots laced halfway up my calves. Parrot already wore his, so I sat on the Land Rover’s bumper and tied mine on.
“This way,” Guillermo said as he stepped through a humongous bush.
“Be back in a minute.” Jonathan threw his bag over his shoulder before disappearing into the same pumped-up greenery.
I finished with my boots and zipped my backpack closed.
Jonathan reappeared first, with Guillermo close behind, each with two horses in tow.
Parrot caught sight of the animals and breathed a sigh, as if just looking at them brought him comfort. With a slight smile, he stepped right up.
“Hey, beautiful,” he cooed, stroking the muzzle. “I bet you’re about five years old.” He ran his hand across the horse’s neck and down the length of its body.
The brown horse huffed and twitched as Parrot crossed in front of it and trailed his hands along its other side. “You like that, do you?” He laughed.