Page 76 of Casualties of War
It took several minutes for her to find a suitable carriersignal and plug in, then go through the challenge-and-answer coupling with the base. Finally, she was looking at the operations room and the Colonel’s craggy face.
Strickland grimaced. “You’re in early, Graves. Something happen?”
“Yeah. Picked up a civilian, one we can’t let walk around loose. I’m taking him with us, so I’m switching to night runs.”
“Name?”
“Adán Caballero.” She hesitated,as Strickland’s shaggy brows lifted in surprise. “The Loyalists think the Insurrectos have him. They’re braced for the squeeze.”
Strickland shook his head. “No. We can’t disclose our presence on Vistaria, Graves. That’s the primary order for this mission. The Loyalists will have to stay ignorant and braced for a while longer.”
“Got it,” Parris told him. Unlike the rest of her unit, shedidunderstand,because Strickland had briefed her before they left Los Alamitos. “As soon as I get the chance, I’ll cut Caballero loose,” she told him. “Only, his first act will be to contact them and tell them he’s alive. Also, he’s politically motivated. He’ll feel obliged to tell the Loyalists we’re here.”
Strickland considered. “You know what’s at stake, Graves,” he said. “How much will he slow you down?”
“Not much, which surprised me,” she admitted. “He’s compliant and he knows the land, which gave us a hole to hide in today.”
Strickland’s face crinkled as he frowned. “Your call, Captain. You’re on the ground. Last resort, you can go short a man, put a gun on Caballero and contain him until this is all over.”
“Read you, sir,” Parris told him. She glanced over the pack. Adán was lying on topof the bag, his eyes closed, his hands under his head. She wondered if he was listening. The acoustics in this cave would carry her voice even though she was speaking softly.
Nothing she said was a lie, though.
In the middle of the cave, the men were sitting on their bags, in a two-deep circle around the LEDs. They had set up a pair of the tiny hiking stoves. The stoves hissed beneath pots offood. Everyone carried freeze-dried rations that cooked up well with heat and water.
The camping routine was well established. They would leave her alone until she finished her business and joined them about the fire for a moment or two before sleep.
As a woman, she couldn’t fraternize with them for long, because it sent the wrong signal. Yet, they were a more cohesive group if she lingeredfor a few minutes and acted as one of them.
She had reports to make, though.
Strickland didn’t hold her up, either. “Turn in your report for the day, Captain, then get some shut eye,” he told her.
“Yes, sir.” She cut the connection, then flipped over to the reporting software. She spent twenty minutes writing her summary of observations for the day—Insurrecto strengths and weaknesses, patternsof movement. Local civilian movement. Numbers.
She took another fifteen minutes to itemize how they had come across Adán Caballero.
She recalled her first glimpse of him, pressed up against the tree with two Insurrectos closing in on him.
The jeans and the casual jacket weren’t Smokey Silva. However, everything else about him—his posture and alertness and the gun held down by his knee—had beenpure Silva.
It had seemed almost normal to watch him spin and take out the first Insurrecto, then turn again to get the second. Ramirez had dealt with the second a beat before Adán.
It was only now, in hindsight, that Parris could remind herself Adán was as civilian as they could get. He knew the moves because he had rehearsed them in movie after movie. It didn’t mean he was anything close totrained.
She stared at the open document on her screen, her mind returning to consider the contained air Adán emanated. That was new. The question occurred to her once more—what had changed?
“Parris,” Adán said, his tone hushed.
She looked up. He’d moved silently and she had let down her guard, here among her men. He stood over her, his flat boating shoes almost up against the side of the pack.
“What?” she said.
“I overheard what you told your C.O.”
She grimaced. “It’s military shorthand, Adán. It’s nothing personal.”
“I didn’t take it personally,” he said. He pushed his hands into his pockets. “Although now I understand more about what happened out there today.” His gaze met hers. “You’re not only black ops, are you?”
