BROWN FIELD
MONDAY, 2:10 A.M.
“SO,” STEELE SAID, SUMMARIZING the debriefing, “in less than forty-eight hours you’ve managed to get on the wrong side of both the lords of the Tijuana underground and the United States government. Even for you, Joseph, that’s impressive. Now what?”
Senor Quintana hid a smile behind his neatly trimmed mustache and goatee.
“We need some muscle on standby,” Faroe said.
“Three ops are already aboard, not including Harley,” Steele said, pointing around the interior of the motor coach. “Wood is the armorer, ex-SEAL with good sources of supply, fluent in Spanish. Jarrett and Murchison are communications cross-trained, also fluent in Spanish, and Murchison is a medic. Dwayne is working on a helicopter and pilot.”
“Problems?” Faroe asked.
“Only that you wanted an Aerospatiale.”
Wood smiled in approval. “Fast helo, that.”
Faroe looked at the two men and one woman-Murchison. They had the relaxed yet ready posture of people accustomed to being sent to strange places at strange times to do jobs that may or may not be legal. And to do them quietly.
“Okay,” Faroe said to the ops. “You three take the chopper down to All Saints at first light. No matter what I tell you, or what sat photos and web site stuff you have, nothing beats seeing it yourself.”
All three nodded.
“Pleasure to work with someone who understands that,” Wood said.
“I learned it the hard way,” Faroe said dryly.
“At least you learned,” Murchison said. “That’s why I went private. Some bosses never learn.”
Grace looked at the other woman and told herself Murchison wasn’t flirting with Faroe-which was true. Then Grace told herself she didn’t care-which wasn’t true.
Maybe I need some of those wake-up pills after all. I keep forgetting why I think I want to keep Faroe at arm’s length.
Don’t I?
Faroe turned back to Steele, answering the question his boss hadn’t quite asked. “I want an Aerospatiale for more than speed. The American Coast Guard uses them for search and rescue. The Mexican navy might not be so quick to fire on us if they think it will be the opening shots of World War III.”
“Then you’ve decided that force is the best option?” Steele asked.
Grace went very still. She’d learned enough about St. Kilda to know that force was an unhappy last resort in kidnap situations.
“I hope not,” Faroe said, “but I’d be a fool not to be prepared.”
“Outline your other options,” Steele asked.
Faroe looked at Grace. “Judge, I need you to be alert. Harley will show you a place for a quick nap.”
She stared at Faroe for a long time. Then she shook her head. “If I have to, I’ll use Steele’s meds.”
“The more I tell you, the more vulnerable you become when this is over.”
“What about you?”
“I’m used to it. I need you strong. Trust me.”
“The last time I did that, you told me to get the hell out of your life.”
“If things go wrong now, wake-up meds won’t save your job,” Faroe said bluntly. “Ignorance will.”
“Ignorance?” Grace laughed. “I’m complicit in a bombing in Ensenada. I saw a man murdered in Hector Rivas’s Cash-and-Carry Bank and House of Horrors. I lied repeatedly and with great pleasure to agents of the United States government. Right now, just what part of ignorance do you think applies to me?”
“Okay. Point taken. But this is going to get ugly,” Faroe said. “I don’t want it to get ugly all over you.”
“Too late.” She toed off her flat shoes. The recessed lighting inside the vehicle showed dark spots against her golden brown skin. “I still have that murdered man’s blood on my feet.”
Instantly Harley got up, went to the sink, returned with a wet cloth, and knelt in front of Grace.
“Thank you, but it won’t change anything,” she said to Harley. Then she looked at Faroe. “Will it.”
Faroe opened his mouth, closed it, and ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “I’m sorry.”
She turned her head, brushed her lips over his thumb. “Why? You didn’t do it.”
Steele watched them, eyes narrowed, face expressionless.
Grace turned to him. “You made the trip for nothing, Ambassador. Joe and I aren’t going to bloody each other.” Yet. But tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is another day, isn’t it? “It’s also too late to separate us. You need Joe. You need me. If we break your rules by being together, well, we’ll just have to be your exception, won’t we?”
Steele almost nodded.
And almost smiled.
The expression on the Ambassador’s face made Faroe wonder what he’d missed.