Page 19 of Freedom Fighters
Then all three women broke out in cries of protest and delight, demanding details, details!
Daniel told them everything he could about Olivia, except for the areas that must remain covert. Everyone knew about the diplomatic hostages that Serrano had been holding at the White Sands, because Mexicanand US TV had been reporting on it since the news broke.
It was becoming easier and easier to share things about himself. No one seemed to be in a hurry to shut him up, either. They were absorbing everything he told them with rapt attention.
“And the wedding?” Trini prompted.
“Yesterday,” Daniel told them.
Isabela looked horrified. “You married her and left her at the altar to come here?”
“There was no altar to leave her at. Besides, Olivia is in Washington by now. Nicolás Escobedo made her Ambassador to the United States five minutes after I kissed her. She is busier than me.”
Isabela patted his hand. “I’m happy that you’re happy, Danny.”
He winced at the nickname, then let it go. “Me, too,” he said and drank.
Cristián sipped his tea with a thoughtful expression.
* * * * *
After the girls yawned mightily and wended their way upstairs and Isabela kissed his cheek and went to bed herself, Daniel pulled the bottle of mescal closer and poured himself another. He tapped the dregs out of one of the girls’ glasses and poured a second shot, which he pushed across to Cristián.
“Drink,” he said shortly. He considered switching to English for the greater privacy it would givethem, but Cristián’s English was weak and he was already stressed.
Cristián shook his head. “I need to stay sober.”
“You’re wound up far too tight, little brother. One shot isn’t going to hurt. There are no Insurrectos for miles.”
“They’re parked right here in downtown Pascuallita,” Cristián pointed out.
“And I guarantee they’re drunker than you by now,” Daniel said. “Even the ones on duty.Serrano knows nothing about discipline. Relax. You’ll give yourself an embolism if you don’t let go now and again.”
Cristián curled his fingers around the glass. “I can’t afford to let go.” His tone was harsh. He sounded much older than he was. “There’s only me and because of Duardo, we’re all high on the Insurrecto wanted list.”
Daniel studied him, noting the shadows under his eyes that theframes of his glasses nearly disguised, the thinness in his cheeks and the tension in his shoulders. “How long is it since you got any decent sleep?”
“Sleep?” Cristián laughed hollowly.
Daniel picked up the glass that sat inside Cristián’s curled fingers and put it up against his mouth. “Drink.”
Cristián took the shot and swallowed, then shuddered. Daniel poured him another one and pushed theglass toward him. “Go on, that one, too.”
This time, Cristián didn’t protest. He tossed the shot back and hissed.
Daniel curled his hand around the neck of the bottle. Even though it was the second bottle, he had avoided drinking more than his share of the stuff all night. Despite his airy assurances to Cristián, he also wanted to keep his head clear. A few shots wouldn’t slow him down and hedid consider the danger of an Insurrecto raid on this house a minimal one. No one had seen him arrive at the house and he had taken the back route into town, up through the hills and down to the house. The chances that anyone had seen him were negligible.
So he poured himself the final shot for the night and put the bottle in front of Cristián. “You can have the rest.” He raised his hand as Cristiánopened his mouth to protest. “I’ll stay on point for the night. You need to get some serious sleep.”
Cristián bit his lip. “I have to check for messages. Secure the house.”
“There won’t be any message on-line,” Daniel told him. “I brought them all with me. And I can secure the house. Go on, drink.”
Cristián poured another shot but didn’t drink it straight away. “What messages?”
Daniel heardthe trepidation in his voice. “You’ve been doing a magnificent job, kid,” he assured him. “Only, the Facebook thing is as insecure as the rest of the Internet. It won’t last. Eventually, the Insurrectos will figure out they’re the IWU. Then your security will be gone. It’s time to set up something more secure.”
Cristián frowned. “Unless you’ve got a hard-wired phone line between here and Acapulco,then nothing is secure. Phones can be tapped and traced. Radio is even worse. Anyone with a scanner can pick up the broadcast.”
