“What about having her detained and questioned foreight hours?” Leo asks. “Because she didn’t deserve that either.”
“In my defense, I was unconscious for part of that time. The bullet only grazed my arm, but I passed out before I arrived at the hospital. The doctors said I went into shock.”
The sound Leo makes is something between a groan and a growl. Angry. Feral. Protective. Something deep in my core warms, despite how worried I am that these two strong, powerful men will come to blows—even over a telephone line.
“I don’t give a fuck if you were hopped up on laughing gas for twelve hours or having plastic surgery to remove a third nipple,” Leo grits out. “Domina was handcuffed in front of the press. And no one from your campaign has said a single goddamn word to contradict the stories that she had something to do with the assassination attempt.”
Several seconds pass. With each one, Leo’s expression hardens.
“I know,” Manuel says. “I have seen the reports. Domina, I am truly sorry. I will call an emergency staff meeting and find out who gave that video to Rafael. If you can forgive me, I will make this right.”
“Wait.” Austin straightens in his chair, a frown curving his lips. “Mr. Vice President—”
“Manuel. Please.”
“Fine. Manuel, most of your information from the past twenty-four hours has come through your campaign manager?” He and Trevor exchange an intense look, and Leo swears under his breath.
“Yes. Rafael meets with several agents from the Institutional Protection Service every few hours and then briefs me.”
I lean close to Leo so my lips brush his ear. “What is it?”
He takes my hand, lacing our fingers tightly. “Mr. Vice President,” he says, his voice deeper and rougher than it was only moments ago. “Don’t call that staff meeting. Not yet. We thought your opponent was behind all of this—and that may still be the case. But your campaign manager had a bird’s eye view of what happened when I rushed the stage. If he believes that video you saw, he’s either a complete and total idiot, or he’s involved. Until we know which one it is…you’re a hell of a lot safer if you keep playing along with the current narrative.”
I choke back a sob. “What about us? Leo, the Ministry let you go, but what will stop them from changing their mind? They know where you live. How long until they come after you again? After both of us?”
My body shakes, fear turning my blood to ice in my veins.
“If they come,” Trevor says, his demeanor deathly calm, “they die.”
* * *
It takesanother hour to brief Cortez on what Zephyr found when she analyzed the rally footage. Every few minutes, he offered another apology, more regrets for his part in what happened to me and to Leo.
“Are you certain you’re safe at the Presidential Palace?” Austin asks.
“I am not certain of anything,” Manuel says, the weariness in his voice so much worse than at the start of the call. “But unless President Garcia is also involved—despite having nothing to gain from my death—my wife and I should be safe here until morning. Though Rafael has messaged me three times in the past hour, and I will not be able to ignore him for much longer.”
Leo straightens in his chair, though he sways slightly until he braces his arm on the table. “Cortez, you’re the Vice President of Panama,” he growls. “If you don’t want to talk to that asshole tonight, don’t. Tell him your arm is killing you and you’re going to bed. Or hell. Tell him you want to go fuck your wife and need some goddamn peace.”
“Leo!” I gasp. Before I can get over my shock enough to say another word, Manuel starts to laugh.
“You are quite right, Mr. Basher,” he says when he catches his breath. “Iamthe Vice President, and in three days, if I manage to live that long, I will run this country. I can certainly tell my campaign manager to ‘fuck off’ for the night.”
This is a side of Manuel Cortez I have never seen. Though, perhaps, it is one he reserves only for family and very close friends. For those he trusts with his life. His anger will not serve him in the polls. But in private, I hope it will keep him alive.
“Send me a copy of that doctored video,” Austin says. “My team can do things with tech that shouldn’t be possible. If whoever put it together left a mark, we’ll find it.”
“Who is ‘your team’? I agreed to trust you, Pritchard, and Mr. Basher. And by association, I suppose, the third man in the room whom you have yet to identify. But an entire ‘team’ of individuals I do not know? That is more than I am willing to risk.”
Austin shoots Trevor a look of pure exasperation. “My ‘team’ is one of the best in the world. And without them, Leo would still be trapped in one of your black sites, Domina would probably be in jail, and you’d be trusting people who might be plotting a second attempt on your life as we speak. You’re lucky you havemyname. Everyone else stays anonymous. It’s the only way we can do what we do.”
After a heavy sigh, Manuel agrees. “Very well. We will speak at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. But before I trust you with my life, I will look you in the eyes. Are we clear?”
“Crystal, Mr. Vice President. Good night.” Austin ends the call and flops back in the wooden chair. “I used to work with guys like that every fucking day. Never thought I’d have to do it again.”
“I owe you, man,” Leo says, draping his arm around my shoulders. “Everything you’ve done for us…I’ll never be able to pay you back.”
Austin arches his brows, then cuts his gaze to Trevor. “You didn’t tell him?”
