Page 101 of Casualties of War
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Two hours later, they paused on the first hill south of the city and turned to look at the suburbs spread below, hitching their heavy backpacks into place. It was fully dark now. The city spread like diamonds scattered on inky black velvet.
“Any sign of panic?” Garrett asked Daniel, who was peering through field glasses toward the inner suburb where the squat housewas located.
“Nothing. The blaze is nearly out. No fire engines, no alarm.” He dropped the glasses and grimaced. “Inner city. Man…” He shook his head.
“Inner city in war time. Big difference,” Carmen said. She frowned as something caught her eye, far to the north of the city. “What’s that?” she said, pointing. “It looks like a shooting star.”
A patch of high ground where she was pointing litup with the brightness of day. A billowing cloud of fire shot upward, lighting up trees.
Then the sound reached them. The deep boom rattled Carmen’s bones and throbbed in her ears.
“Oh my dear God…!” Garrett breathed.
Daniel looked through the glasses once more, then thumbed them to turn down the light gain and looked again. “There’s no one else there. Just trees,” he said. He didn’t soundhappy about it, though.
“No oneelse? Carmen repeated. Then she put it together. “You mean someone did that? It was a…bomb?”
“Rocket,” Daniel said, his voice low. “Fired from a drone.” He looked at her. “You said shooting star—so the track was flat?”
“Yes.” Her insides trembled.
“Low altitude drone,” Daniel said and pulled out his cellphone. He thumbed it. “Damn, damn, damn, it’s dead. Garrett…?”
Garrett shrugged. “Sorry.”
Carmen dug the phone they had brought from Hernandez Garcia out of her back pocket and handed it to him. “Who would do that?” she whispered to Garrett as Daniel thumbed out a number and hit dial.
“It’s a short list,” Garrett said, “and Mexico isn’t on it.”
Vistaria didn’t have drone technology. “America?” she breathed. “They weretrackingyour patient?”
“Someonewas,” Garrett said, his voice low. “Someone who doesn’t want a lot of people knowing radioactive material is on Vistaria.”
Daniel pushed his hand through his hair. “Duardo—General Peña…you will not believe what just happened.” He turned away, speaking low and fast.
Carmen’s trembling reached her limbs. “Butweknow…”
Garrett nodded. “And the house we were living in just burned down withoutan alarm going up, or a single fire engine coming to put it out and check for survivors.”
She stared at him. In the starlight, his face was smooth, none of the scars showing. His eyes gleamed.
“Insurrectos,” she whispered. “They’re playing for keeps.”
“They always were. Now, they’re stepping up the stakes,” Garrett told her. “This is the beginning of the end play.”
* * * * *
Calli decidedIbarra was flat out, batshit crazy. As in straight-jacket certifiable.
The man with the albino white hair was otherwise a typical Vistarian except for his eyes. They were what told her he was crazy.
About an hour ago, Ibarra had stepped into the stripped-down room where they had been keeping Calli and Roldán. Unlike most Insurrectos, his uniform fit well and he had buttoned every button andtucked everything in. He was neat and tidy and the oddly white hair was brushed straight back from his high forehead.
He smiled at them. “My name is Ibarra. President Serrano has asked me to give you a tour of the palace. Please come with me.”
Roldán didn’t seem to react to the summons. She had said little to Calli since they were pushed into the room. They had laid upon the single beds, staringat the ceiling, until a woman in national dress had stepped into the room and held a kidney tray out to Roldán.
