“I want an end to this before anyone else dies, but I’m not going to deal with Silvana.” I’ve seen my dad work people over in business a million times. Running an international shipping company is all about forming relationships. Part flattery, part truth, and all Valencia spine. “You, I’ll negotiate with.”
“Negotiate?” Sebastián rests his hands on his rifle as we walk, settling in for what he clearly thinks is a game. “What are you bringing to the table?”
“Cash. Name your price.” I wait a heartbeat, while he decides whether or not to take me seriously. Then I move in for the kill. “Forallof us.”
Offer them something they want, but on your terms, Genesis.
My father taught me that strategy when I was eleven. It’s been useful at school, and even more useful with Holden. But out here, it might save lives.
Sebastián’s dark brows rise. “You think you can get yourpapáto pay for six hostages?”
“I can get him to pay for eight. He doesn’t know Maddie and Ryan are ... gone.” I shove back my grief and rage and push through with my initial offer. “If you knew my dad, you’d know he’ll give me whatever I ask for, and he can have a plane here in a couple of hours. You’ll get credit for bringing in the ransoms. What do you want? A hundred grand each?”
Sebastián laughs, and I have to work to unclench my jaw.
When in doubt, add another zero, my father’s voice says in my head.
“One million each. That’seight million dollars.” My dad keeps more than that in his emergency safe at home.
But now Sebastián looks insulted, and alarm bells go off in my head. I have no idea how much they were going to demand for our release.
“Name your price. Just let me call my father,” I insist. But he’s already shaking his head. Frowning. I’m missing something. “Unless ... this isn’t about money?”
My backpack suddenly feels heavier than it did a secondago. Have I read this whole thing wrong?
“Why is everything about money with you Americans?” Sebastián demands, and those alarm bells swell into a siren. “We need yourpapá’sresources.” He pulls me to a halt and leans in until I can’t see anything but his gaze burning into me. “We need Hernán Valencia to remember where his loyalties ought to lie.”
MADDIE
“Holy shit.” Luke blinks, stunned, and the unused rock falls from his hand. “I can’t—” He blinks again, then scrubs his face with both hands. “Do you think he’s okay?”
“I hope not.” Moisés is breathing, but the gash on the back of his head is oozing blood and already swelling into a huge lump. “How did you do that?” I push myself to my feet. “Do you play baseball?”
“Only on my Xbox. I didn’t even have my eyes open, Maddie. Total lucky shot.” He puts one hand on top of his baseball cap, still stunned, and the reality finally hits me.
Somehow, he’s still alive. And un-captured. And he just saved my life.
“Luke—” I pull him into a hug, and he feels a lot more solid than I expected. “I thought you were dead.”
He returns my embrace with an awkward one of his own. “I left camp to pee right before the soldiers came, and when I heard them rounding everyone up, I hid in the brush. Are you okay?”
“No.” I let him go and swipe at my face with shaking, dirt-caked hands.
“We should probably ...” He slides the automatic rifleout of the gunman’s reach with his foot.
The gash on the back of Moisés’s head is still steadily leaking blood. “I wish you’d killed him,” I whisper.
“I don’t.”
I glance at Luke in surprise. “He and his friends—” The word gets stuck in my throat. “Theymurderedmy brother!” Theyalldeserve to die for that.
“They’re killers. I’m not. We need to tie him up.” Luke plucks the nylon cord from Moisés’s relaxed fist, then squats over his thick thighs, but I can only stare as I struggle to keep the world in focus.
None of this feels real.
“Hey, Maddie? A little help?”
I squat in the dirt and lift Moisés’s arms into position behind his back. Luke winds the cord around the gunman’s wrists, then ties some kind of complicated knot.
