[Santa Olivia 02] - Saints Astray, Page 3

  “Well, yeah.”

  “No. It’s weird, but no.” Pilar shrugged. “Baby, I told you. I don’t know why, but that whole cute and deadly thing just gets me. You. Everything about you. I can’t even explain it, and I’ve given up trying to figure it out. It’s just you.” She put her arms around Loup’s neck, her expression turning serious. “I hurt you once because I was so fucking scared of losing you. And I swear to God, Loup, I will never, ever do it again.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Okay, okay!”

  “Good.” Pilar kissed her, slid her hands down to Loup’s waist in a long, slow caress, savoring the feel of her. “Ah, you have zee toned phee-zeek. I think you are a dancer or a heem-nasta, yes?”

  She shook her head, smiling. “Boxer.”

  “Oh, a box-air, is it?” Pilar blew softly in her ear. “I love you to pieces, my little boxer, my little Santa Olivia, my little hero. I would go to the ends of the earth to be with you. You want to see what else I bought today?”

  Loup squirmed. “Uh-huh.”

  “Lingerie,” Pilar breathed, pulling off her sundress. “Very nice, sexy, and chic for young lovers. You like?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  THREE

  In the morning Christophe drove them to the Palacio Nacional, a massive, impressive building located in front of the biggest town square anyone could imagine.

  “Wow,” Pilar said, subdued. “It’s really… big.”

  “It’s okay,” Christophe said cheerfully. “We are expected.”

  A businesslike young man met them at the door and led them to a posh meeting room where two older men were waiting.

  “Welcome.” The shorter of the two came forward, smiling. He greeted Christophe familiarly and shook all their hands. “I am Esteban Sandoval from the Department of Foreign Relations. We are honored to have you here.”

  “Thank you, sir. Loup Garron.” She glanced at Pilar, who was looking overwhelmed. “And Pilar Ecchevarria.”

  “Hi,” Pilar managed.

  The other man joined them. “Let me add my welcome,” he said in a soft drawl. “Senator Timothy Ballantine from Virginia. And on behalf of my country, let me say I’m very sorry for the way you’ve been treated.” He laid his hand on Loup’s shoulder and gave it a paternal squeeze. “Oh… my!” He snatched his hand back involuntarily, looking startled. “I beg your pardon.”

  “It’s okay,” Loup said with resignation. “I’m used to it.”

  “I didn’t expect…” He paused. “Truth be told, I didn’t know what to expect. You look surprisingly—” He cleared his throat. “Well, you’re both lovely young ladies.”

  “Thanks.” Having found her voice, Pilar eyed him suspiciously. “How do we know we can trust you? How do we know you’re not from some other part of the government that wants to get its hands on Loup?”

  Senator Ballantine considered her question solemnly. “I don’t suppose there’s any way I can prove it to you, but I give you my word as a Southern gentleman that my intentions are honorable. I’m putting my own career at risk in this venture.” He cleared his throat again. “And if you have any desire to help the townsfolk you left behind, I do strongly urge you to cooperate with us.”

  Loup and Pilar exchanged a glance.

  Sandoval steepled his fingers. “With your permission, we would like to talk to you young ladies about your experience growing up in an Outpost. My good friend the senator is trying very hard to shed light on this subject. Naturally, I am interested in seeing this happen as part of restoring good relations between our countries. We are making progress, but progress comes slowly. It is difficult to uncover truths many wish to keep hidden. The senator is attempting to collect testimony from many American soldiers who have served on these bases, and others who fled when they were established decades ago. Understandably, this is a delicate undertaking. You are the first two civilians to have escaped since the occupation began, the only civilians. Your candor may prove invaluable.”

  “Okay,” Loup agreed. Pilar hesitated, then nodded.

  Prompted by questions, they talked for two solid hours, describing life in an isolated town in the no-man’s-land of the cordon between the walls, where the soldiers outnumbered the townsfolk ten to one and civilians had no rights. Where generators provided the only electricity and there were no working telephones, no computer networks, no television stations. Where civilians weren’t allowed to own guns or drive cars, and had to carry a permit to be out after curfew.

  Where two families, the Garzas and the Salamancas, ran everything the army let them—except for the mission and clinic that Father Ramon and Sister Martha ran out of the church, aided by a shifting group of orphans nicknamed the Santitos, the Little Saints of Santa Olivia, by marauding street gangs. Where the only jobs to be had were crappy jobs working for the army one way or another, unless it was working for the Garzas or Salamancas.

  Where the eccentric General Argyle held command, obsessed with boxing, and the only way to win a ticket out was to defeat one of his army champions in the ring.

  “And you did this?” The senator cast a doubtful eye over Loup. “Against another GMO?”

  “GMO?”

  “Genetically modified organism.” He colored. “I beg your pardon. Is that offensive?”

  Loup shrugged. “I dunno. I forgot, Johnson told me that was the term you used. Yeah, I beat him.”

  “You witnessed this?” he asked Pilar.

  She shook her head. “Too scared. But the whole town did. I made Mack and T.Y. tell me all about it,” she added to Loup.

  “Do you mind if I ask how?” Sandoval inquired.

  “Yeah, I know, I know.” Loup smiled wryly. “Big beats small. But Johnson wasn’t a real good boxer. He never had to be. I spent three years doing nothing but training, trying to figure out how to beat a guy as fast as me, but bigger and stronger.”

  The senator consulted his notes. “And yet General Argyle took you into custody instead of giving you your freedom. Because you’re a GMO, I presume?”

  “Well, it was one reason…” She began explaining the Santa Olivia business.

  Sandoval interrupted her. “You disguised yourself as the town’s patron saint and assaulted members of the U.S. Army?” He looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or express outrage.

  “Well, yeah.” She shrugged again. “Sort of. It’s not like we hurt anyone, we just tried to teach them a lesson. I was born on Santa Olivia’s day, right in the town square. The Santitos thought maybe it was a sign. And it was only to a few guys who deserved it.”

  “I made the dress,” Pilar added. “Blue, with a white kerchief.”

  “Dear God,” Senator Ballantine murmured. “One almost feels for the general.” He looked thoughtful. “Although I suppose that’s not a factor for you, Miss Garron.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He blinked. “Given your limited emotional spectrum, I assumed…” His voice trailed off.

  “Loup can feel,” Pilar said indignantly. “Just not fear, okay? Jesus! I oughta know. Anyway, we didn’t just do bad stuff. We did a good deed, too. We stole a thousand bucks from the Salamancas and gave it to a family with hungry kids.”

  The senator engaged in a fit of coughing.

  “Yeah, well, the general didn’t like that any better. He was pretty freaked out about the whole thing,” Loup said matter-of-factly. “Enough to try starving me and hosing me down and asking the same stupid questions—”

  “Back up.” Gaining control of himself, Timothy Ballantine raised his hand. “Tell me how you were treated in custody.”

  While a light blinked on the recording device, she told him about the lack of food that sent her into a near-hibernatory state, the sleep deprivation. The constant heat and light, broken by the hose and the freezing interrogation room. I-want-to-be-your-friend Derek and his attempts to bribe her into revealing who had helped with the Santa Olivia conspiracy.


  “He said they’d keep me there forever if I didn’t,” Loup said, remembering. “Because they never had a chance to try and break down someone they couldn’t scare before. You think?”

  “Yes.” The senator looked grave. “Sadly, I do.”

  “Good thing I got out.”

  “Yes.” He reached over and turned off the little recorder. “And about that, we will ask no questions.”

  “Okay.” Loup studied his face. “So what can we do to get everyone else out of Outpost? Santa Olivia, I mean.”

  The two men exchanged a glance. “Exactly what you have done today by testifying, and nothing more,” Senator Ballantine said firmly. “This is a serious issue of long standing, and many people are working behind the scenes to rectify it through political and diplomatic means. It’s not a matter for young women playing at being vigilantes. You’re safe, and we would like to keep it that way.”

  “Precisely,” Esteban Sandoval agreed. “Leave the matter to the professionals. We worked hard and took many risks to arrange your escape. I beg you, please do not think of doing anything to jeopardize your freedom.”

  She sighed, deflated. “Is there any word of Coach Roberts or Miguel?”

  “Roberts?” the senator echoed. “Miguel?”

  “Garza,” Loup said. “Miguel Garza. And Floyd Roberts. He trained us both. He was the general’s friend. He was the only civilian allowed to carry a gun. Mig was my sparring partner. He’s kind of an asshole, but he can be a good guy, too. There were supposed to be two tickets for whoever won. I gave the second one to him.”

  The two men exchanged another glance. The senator shook his head. “No. No word.”

  “Look for them,” she suggested. “Especially Miguel. Coach thought he was in big trouble for training me, but he thought the general might keep his word and let Mig go north. Both of them can back up everything we said.”

  “I’ll do that.” Ballantine rose and put out his hand. “Godspeed, children.”

  Sandoval and Christophe exchanged words in Spanish. “Okay.” Christophe nodded and turned to Loup. “The third party is a man named Magnus Lindberg from a private company called Global Security. Mr. Sandoval has done business with him on a number of occasions. He asks for half an hour of your time.”

  “Okay, I guess.”

  “What about me?” Pilar asked.

  “You and I will go see the Palacio’s famous murals. You know Diego Rivera?” He smiled when she shook her head. “Well, you will.”

  “I’d rather stay,” she said.

  “Mr. Lindberg wishes to speak to Loup alone,” Christophe said. “His interest is only in GMOs.” He held up one finger. “Half an hour of her time is the price for the fancy clothes you are wearing.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Loup said to Pilar. “Go ahead, look at the murals.”

  She scowled. “Okay, but don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I won’t.”

  The government officials took their leave with a round of farewells. Two minutes later, a tall blond man in a well-tailored suit entered the meeting room, accompanied by a striking brunette woman almost as tall as he was. He paused and gazed at Loup in appraisal. “Loup Garron?”

  “Yeah.”

  He smiled, showing very white, even teeth. “Magnus Lindberg, Global Security. This is my assistant, Sabine.”

  Loup eyed them warily. They didn’t look like anyone else she’d ever met. She wished Pilar was there. “Hi.”

  “Please, sit.” Magnus took a seat. Sabine took a position standing behind him. Loup sat opposite him. “You have an unusual name, Loup. Did you know it’s French for ‘wolf’?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Ah, I think perhaps you’re weary of talking. Very well, I’ll be brief.” He smiled again. “Global Security is an international company that provides security for very, very important clients.”

  “Is this the secret agent bodyguard thing again?” she asked. “That guy Derek mentioned something about it when I was in prison.”

  “Perhaps.” He nodded. “In our business, there is a tremendous amount of competition. Once it was enough to have a retired policeman. Then it was soldiers, and not just any soldiers, but special forces, like your Navy SEALS. And then it was Mossad agents, and the craze for thugs… Do you remember the craze for thugs, Sabine?”

  Sabine nodded curtly.

  “A nightmare.” Magnus shuddered. “But celebrities crave novelty. They must have the newest and best thing, the most dangerous thing, the most exotic thing.” He flashed another smile. “And the one thing no private firm offers today is a genetically modified bodyguard. I’ve been on the lookout for someone like you.”

  “So you’re, like, offering me a job?”

  Sabine’s lip curled.

  “A very, very lucrative job,” he said smoothly. “I’ve no doubt that the government here would do the same. Your cousin Christophe has an arrangement and seems content with it. But we can offer so much more. Government wages are meager. Our clients would pay hundreds of thousands of euros for the only GMO in the business. And, of course, we could help insulate you from the danger to which you’ve already been exposed.”

  Loup frowned. “What danger?”

  Magnus Lindberg showed his white teeth in yet another smile. “You’ve collaborated with insurrectionist forces in the United States government, Loup.”

  “Insurrectionist?”

  Sabine winced.

  “Rebels, let us say,” Magnus suggested. “Men like Senator Ballantine who would upset the status quo. He’s an honorable enough fellow, but if his efforts were to be compromised…” He shuddered again. “Well, I fear you would be vulnerable. After all, you’re on record now, and you were born on the far side of the U.S. border. All good intentions aside, given their role in extricating you from a military prison, the Mexican authorities would be hard-pressed to refuse an extradition request.”

  “So I could be taken into custody again,” Loup said slowly.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “If you came to work for Global Security, it would be exceedingly unlikely. Most of your work would be in Europe or Asia. You would be safer there. We enjoy a different relationship with the United States, and a different attitude toward human rights. Including the rights of GMOs, even though your existence is largely a matter of informed speculation.”

  “Except it wouldn’t be if you were advertising me, right? Everyone would know.”

  “Have you ever heard the phrase ‘hide in plain sight’ ”? Magnus inquired. Loup shook her head. “It’s a classic technique. Of course, it would be necessary to obtain false papers for you in order to conceal your origins, but that, too, is something Global Security is prepared to offer. We have certain… connections… in that arena.”

  “Papers?” Loup asked.

  “A passport,” he clarified. “I trust you’ve nothing of the kind?”

  “No.”

  “Without one, you’re essentially trapped here,” Magnus observed. “I fear you’ll never leave Mexico. Even if the Mexican authorities were to offer you citizenship, you wouldn’t be allowed into the United States given the delicate state of relations. Only the highest-ranking Mexican diplomats are permitted into the States. But Global Security is prepared to offer you the world.” He paused to let his words sink in, then cleared his throat. “Of course, there would be a brief training period to teach you additional skills and, ah, polish up the rough edges, but you’d be well provided for. As you’ve seen, we like to treat our people well.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” Loup cocked her head. “What about Pilar?”

  “Pilar?”

  Sabine murmured something in a foreign language.

  “Ah, yes.” He nodded. “I understand GMOs have a genetic predisposition to forming strong attachments. Miss Ecchevarria would be welcome to accompany you. When you’re not on a job, of course. I assure you, the fees you would command would more than suffice to cover your living expenses.”

  Loup shook her
head. “No, hiring her.”

  Magnus blinked. “I wasn’t aware that the young lady had any particular skills of interest to us.”

  “She’s good at spending other people’s money,” Sabine muttered in accented English.

  “Yeah, well, you gave it to us. Anyway, important people need people to do stuff like that, don’t they?” Loup asked pragmatically. “Maybe I’d make a great secret agent bodyguard in a lot of ways, but in case you hadn’t noticed, it might not be the brightest idea in the world to put someone who can’t feel fear in charge of keeping other people safe. Pilar and I make a good team. And I promised to let her take care of me.”

  He blinked again, thoughtfully.

  Sabine scoffed.

  Loup eyed her. “So what are her skills of interest?” she asked Magnus.

  The woman stiffened in affront. “I speak five languages fluently,” she said in an acid tone. “And I hold a seventh-rank black belt in tae kwon do. I could put you on the ground in three seconds ten different ways.”

  Loup laughed.

  “Permission to demonstrate, sir?” Sabine inquired.

  “Go ahead.” He nodded. “I’m curious.”

  Sabine flowed forward and executed a low, sweeping hook kick that was meant to yank the chair out from under Loup and send her tumbling to the floor. The empty chair clattered across the room. Loup, three steps away, regarded her mildly.

  “Lady, if you want to spar, I’ll need gloves and you’ll need gear,” she said. “I’m out of practice and I don’t want to hurt you by accident. Otherwise, you’re just gonna have to chase me around the table all day.”

  “Amazing,” Magnus murmured. “I’ve never seen anyone move so fast.”

  “What’d you think you were trying to hire?” Loup continued to keep an eye on the tall woman.

  “You.” For the first time, his smile seemed genuine. “It’s impressive, that’s all.” He waved a hand. “Sabine, stand down for God’s sake. So. Will you consider our offer?”

  “Only if you’ll hire Pilar, too. And only if she wants to do it.”

  “I’ll consider it.” Magnus nodded, half to himself. “You know, it’s not an unworkable idea. A personal assistant and the world’s only genetically modified bodyguard, all wrapped up in one attractive package.” He took a slim cell phone out of his breast pocket. “Here. I’ll call you with our response to your proposal. I assume you’ll be wanting to visit your… family, I suppose… in Huatulco?”