Page 56 of Fear No Evil

“I thought you wereeducado enla universidad.” Gallo sneered at the answer. “But you’re a fool if you think the JUNGLA would throw two grenades into the air andleave. Maybe it was you who followed me last night, trying to save your little girlfriends, eh?”

David stared unflinchingly into Gallo’s suspicious glare. He would not rise to the man’s taunts. Nor would he tell Gallo about Maife and Ixta’s desertion. For all that man knew, they had disappeared from the Venezuelan’s camp, which would make their disappearance Gallo’s fault. “Perhaps some of our guests are more than peacekeepers,” he heard himself suggest. “I overheard the French couple speaking English‍—AmericanEnglish, which I heard often at the university.” He didn’t mention they’d been speaking with Padre Josué for fear of ostracizing the missionary, whose visits and podcasts he cherished.

Gallo’s eyes rounded. “Are you saying they’re not French?”

“I don’t know. I only know what I heard.”

Gallo went perfectly still, clearly processing the ramifications of David’s allegations. Then, without bringing up either of the girls’ names, themondostalked toward the officers’ quarters while throwing suspicious glances at the peacekeeper’s bungalow.

Uncertainty pounced on David as he watched themondostalk across the camp. Perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned his suspicions of the French couple. What would Padre Josué think of him vilifying his new friends?

Gallo tugged the cord on his generator, shattering the camp’s quiet as he started it up. Normally, he roused the troops at dawn with the blare of his radio calling,“¡Despiértense todos. Arriba y Ándale!”But David’s news that the Frenchwoman had entered his sanctum without invitation had him shoving through the screen door and snapping on the light to search the space.

What could she have stolen or‍—worse yet‍—discovered about the FARC, assuming she was a spy?

His gaze fell immediately on the officer’s log. He snatched it up and pawed through the pages. Nothing seemed to be missing, relieving him at first. He flipped through the entire notebook, hunting for the map that detailed the precise location, in code, of two of the three main camps.

His heart began to thud. He knew where the map ought to be‍—right here. Yet there was only the faintest ragged edge that made it horribly apparent the page had been torn from the binding.

¡Demonios!

Gallo clutched the book to his chest in horror. He could not tell Marquez about the missing map, since its disappearance could be blamed onhisnegligence. After all, the camp was his responsibility while thecomandanteescorted Arias back and forth.

Staggering backward, Gallo sank into the only chair, thinking.

Who would have guessed that members of the peacekeeping team might be spies? If Madeleine had stolen the map, then her husband, Jacques, was likely also a spy. Spying for whom? Did they work for the JUNGLA who had followed them out of La Esmerelda and then attacked them? That could be. If only the Venezuelans, with their rough-edged humor and military savvy, hadn’t lured him away from camp.

What to do? He should at least tell Marquez of his suspicions.

His radio crackled, breaking into his thoughts. Gallo snatched it off his hip and answered the commander’s greeting.

“The Argentine and I are on our way. You may expect us both by noon.”

Gallo wasted no time mentioning his suspicions. “Sir, I believe the French couple in the UN team are spies. The woman was caught searching our cabin.”

He waited with a held breath for Marquez to reply.

“Did you hear me,Comandante? Last night, someone set off two explosions near the Venezuelan’s camp, and the French couple was seen outside of their bungalow at the time. Do I have your permission to question them?”

“No.”

Marquez’s definitive answer brought a scowl to Gallo’s face. “Comandante, please‍—” He remembered how Jacques had picked up Chucho’s rifle the other day. He could have killed them all!

“Silencio. The UN team is our best hope for getting our demands met. You presume too much to know whether they are spies or not.”

“Then let me question them.”

“You willnot.” Marquez’s words came out in a growl. “We are just steps away from coming to an agreement.”

The words derailed Gallo’s argument. “They’ve agreed to our terms? The release of our compadres captured at Calamar and five hundred thousand per hostage?”

“It is not for you to know. Rojas makes the final decision.”

Gallo swallowed back a protest. Two of the fivecompadreseligible for release were superior in rank to him. He wouldneverbe promoted if they came back to the FARC. Too furious to speak, he smoldered.

“You will treat our guests with respect. The sooner they leave, the happier Rojas will be. He doesn’t want them discovering who is backing our cause.”

Gallo muttered something to the affirmative, toggled off the switch on his radio, then hurled it onto his bunk bed, where it bounced harmlessly against his pillow.

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