She smiled, then looked out at the view of the green mountains and the encircling slums. “It’s too nice up here. I feel guilty after what we saw today.”
“Guilt helps no one.”
“You’re all heart, Scott.”
“Drink?”
“I ordered for both of us.”
He led her back to the open-sided cabana and she sat upright in a chaise longue as he sat in his wicker chair and finished his beer.
They watched the sunbathers and swimmers for awhile, and Brodie wondered how many more days, weeks, or months this idyllic scene would play out before Caracas and Venezuela descended into chaos. Someday, maybe soon, those poor bastards in the slums would all decide to head downhill into the city and take what they didn’t have. It would be interesting to see that, but a revolution would put an abrupt end to his mission. In any case, the regime, through the colectivos, seemed to have the slums under control.
Taylor said, “Let’s call the boss.”
“I did.”
She looked at him. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”
“I was overcome with a desire to hear Dombroski’s voice.” He added, “You can make the next call. Tonight.”
She nodded.
The waiter appeared with two drinks that he set on the table between them; Brodie signed, and the waiter moved off. Brodie eyed the drinks, which had mint sprigs in them. “This is not beer.”
“They’re Mojitos.” She swiveled her legs off the chaise, faced him, picked up her glass, and said, “To a successful operation tonight.”
They touched glasses and he said, “Amen.” He sipped the drink. Awful.
She looked at him. “That’s the second time you called Colonel Dombroski without me being there.”
“You make the mistake of making an assumption. How do you know I didn’t call him ten times?”
“Scott, cut the shit.”
“All right. When I was briefed by him in Quantico, he passed on to me privileged information. Need-to-know stuff. And you don’t have a need to know, so he and I need to speak in private.”
“What do you need to know that I don’t need to know?”
“If I told you, then I’d be disobeying orders.”
“I am your partner.”
“This is standard procedure.” He put down his drink and asked, “Are you in contact with anyone I don’t know about?”
“No.”
“Do you know something I don’t know? Other than how to speak Spanish?”
“I don’t like this conversation.”
“Then let it go.”
She stood and took off her wrap, revealing a white bikini that looked like it was made from dental floss. In fact, she was nearly naked. Did she know what she was doing to him? Of course she did.
“I’m going for a swim.”
“Don’t get dragged down by your bathing suit.”
