Page 38 of Casualties of War
Minnie grinned.
He nudged the boat up against the dock and a dozen hands grabbed the gunnels and secured the moorings. Adán killed the engine and felt his ears throb. It was quiet without the pulsing of the noisy motor.
The same handstackled the mountain of boxes on the deck, stripping away the netting and carrying the cartons back up the jetty.
Nick jumped down onto the clear space on the deck, along with another tall Vistarian in a Colonel’s uniform—except the sleeves had makeshift stars. A general, then. From the man’s scowl as he looked at Minnie, Adán guessed this was her husband, Duardo.
“What the hell, Adán?” Nicksaid. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Bringing food and water. It’s good to see you, too, cousin.”
Nick put his hands on his hips. “I left you in Los Angeles.”
“I decided it was time to go when someone tried to blow up the building I was standing in.”
Nick hesitated, his chest lifting. “They said it was a boiler.”
“They’re lying,” Adán replied.
Duardo let go of Minnie, his attention caught.“It has been confirmed? Is there a Vistarian connection?”
“There might be,” Adán admitted.
Duardo and Nick exchanged glances.
“I told Duardo what you told me, on the phone,” Nick said. “Oh, Duardo—Adán Caballero y Lord. Adán, General Eduardo Santiago Peña y Santos.”
Duardo nodded. Both his hands were around Minnie. “Adán.”
“Duardo,” Adán replied.
Behind them, the deck was clearing of boxesand crates. The team of soldiers moved with well-practiced rhythm.
Another team were trundling a tank on wheels down the jetty. The tank was taller than any of them. Two privates tapped the bow tanks. A third got the little pump going. A hose extended from the tank in the bow to the one on the trolley. The pump motor hummed, sucking water into the tank on the trolley.
No one spoke as they wentabout their business. The efficiency was impressive.
Nick rested his hand on Adán’s shoulder. “We can give you a hot meal and coffee before you head back.”
“A meal would be most welcome.” Adán climbed onto the dock after Nick and felt the odd solidness of the planks under his feet after the rocking of the deck. Nick waited for him to fall in alongside him as they walked up the length of thejetty toward the shore. “No one is ducking, here, so I’m guessing we’re out of sight of the Insurrectos.”
“They’re all concentrating on the narrows, on the north side of the island,” Nick said. “They know we will try to cross there.”
“Is that the plan? To cross over?”
“And to keep going, after that,” Nick said. “Once we have a toe-hold on the main island, we don’t stop until we reach the capitaland take back the palace.”
He didn’t speak with any emphasis, yet invisible fingers walked up Adán’s spine.
“I know you want to help, Adán,” Nick said, “but you can’t get involved. You understand that, don’t you?”
“There are other ways I can help, besides picking up a rifle.”
“You were helping, in Los Angeles. No one else could have done what you did.”
“You know what I mean,” Adán said, annoyed.
“Such as driving a supply boat?” Nick asked. He sighed. “I know what you mean.” He glanced at Adán. “How many people with cameras saw you get on the boat?”
