Neither has Dani.
At the other end of the shop window, Leo pulls out his cell phone and holds it to his ear as he faces away from me. “Want to tell me why we couldn’t just meet at a bar like civilized people?”
“Keep your voice down, asshole. Are you fucking drunk...again? It’s not even six.”
“That’s after five,” he says. “And I don’t work for you anymore.”
“If you’re not careful,” I say as I stoop to get a better look at the tray of flan on the bottom shelf, “you won’t work for anyone soon.”
“From your mouth to God’s ears. Enough with the lecture. What’s so damn important you had to meet likethis?”
“Luis Rojas.” Pausing, I take a step closer to Leo and lower my voice. “He’s Dani’s birth father.”
The phone clatters from Leo’s hand, and he scrambles to pick up the pieces. “Fuck.”
I can’t tell if he’s cursing about the phone or Luis, but the ruse is a lost cause, so I mutter, “Follow me but make sure no one’s watching when you do.”
I stride away from the shop, but keep my pace slow. Still just a guy out for a stroll in one of the most dangerous cities in the world—if you’re on the wrong side.
After a few minutes, I find a narrow alley between two buildings. Pulling out my signal scanner, I flick it on and find six different Wi-Fi networks. A second button on the side of Wren’s little invention, and all of them go down as Leo ducks into the alley and limps over to me.
“She’s his spitting image, Leo,” I say as I rake a hand through my hair. “The eyes, the lips... You’d have to be blind to miss it. General Ochoa kicked us out as soon as Luis started talking about his family. His brother was rumored to have been in The Crypt too, but I don’t think that’s why the general ended the interview. I think it’s because he thinks he can use Dani as leverage.”
“So get the fuck out of the country,” Leo says, giving me a look that says he thinks I’m a complete idiot for still being here.
“I would, but Luis...he was one of the original members of the Loma Collectivo. He worked for Jorge Sosa.”
A whistle escapes as Leo shakes his head. “And you want this guy out of prison so you can finally take that organization down.”
It wasn’t a question, but I answer anyway. “Yep. So I need to know how much danger I’m putting Dani in if we decide to go back there tomorrow.”
Leo shoves his right hand into his pocket and leans against the brick wall of the building opposite me. “Gut answer? A hell of a lot. Ochoa’s not someone you mess with. He has the president’s ear, and if he tells Farías that he has a way to get to the Resistencia...you need to get Dani the hell out of here.”
My gut twists, and I finger the scarf in my pocket. Taking down the Loma Collectivo is the biggest failure of my CIA career. They’ve killed hundreds. Probably thousands. We were so close...and then Gil had to turn and spend the last two years of his life working against us from the inside.
“Make some calls,” I say. Leo starts to protest, but I silence him with a shake of my head. “Just do it. I know you’re on your way out, man. But you’ve worked this post forever. You’ve got to have someone on the inside you can trust.”
I don’t look away, determined to win this battle of wills, and after a full minute, Leo swears under his breath and stares down at his scuffed shoes. “Fine. But you owe me for this one.”
“And you owe me for getting you out of that warehouse while you still had one good eye. Do this, and we’re even.” Glancing at my watch, I continue. “At this point, there’s no way we’ll make it through Customs in time for our flight. So we’re staying until tomorrow. If I can get in touch with my former SSO, maybe he can arrange some backup. Or at least start working on a plan to get Luis out of The Crypt from the States.”
“Your mobile secure?” Leo asks.
I snort. “When have you ever known me to take a chance on an open line?”
“Never. Sorry. Long day. Stupid question. I’ll touch base tonight.” Leo holds up a piece of his broken phone. “Once I get this taken care of.”
“Stay safe, Leo.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll do my best.” He limps out of the alley, and I’d bet the thousand bolivars I have hidden in various pockets that he’s going right to the bar. I shouldn’t trust him, but even a drunk Leo Basher was once better than half the spooks in the world stone cold sober.
I hope he still is. Our lives depend on it.
Chapter Eleven
Dani
By the timethe electronic door lock disengages, my stomach is in knots and I think I might have actually destroyed this batch of thinking putty. It’s so warm, it’s practically liquid, and bits of it keep sliding between my fingers and down the back of my hand.
