Chapter 7
It was midmorning when they left the safe house on foot. Cal stayed alert. This part of Trujillo was quiet, but they still took evasive maneuvers.
“You know,” Cal said, “partners usually fill each other in. Where are we headed?” He kept his tone light, but the reminder carried weight. This wasn’t about them. This was the job, and they needed to be on the same page.
Io blinked, then nodded. “Sorry. I’m used to working alone. We’re going to the open-air market to have lunch and meet Lurch.”
“Thank you.” He kept his tone neutral. They were both on their best behavior, trying to make this work.
The crowd thickened as they neared the Mercado de Trujillo arch.
Normally he liked meeting teammates here—good food, plenty of cover—but today it made his skin tight.
Too many people. Too many angles. If Io changed direction while he was busy scanning, he might miss it. Might not be able to find her again.
Io paused often, pretending to browse while checking their tail. Cal watched the immediate perimeter. Between them, the coverage was solid, but he still wanted her somewhere safe.
Shopping with Io reminded him of Germany—quiet walks, no threats, just them. A life that had slipped through his fingers before he even understood why.
She stopped for picarones. He shook his head when she offered him one. “If I fill up on donuts, I won’t eat real food.”
Another pause at a pottery stall. The walkway was narrow, and Cal leaned in, making it appear intimate. “What did you see?”
“Pair of nuns behind us for a while,” she murmured.
He spotted them easily. “Sister Ana and Sister Rafaela. KW knows them.”
They fell in behind the sisters as the market grew busier. Io angled toward the food trailer his team used, but Cal spotted Lurch at the table.
“Dude?” Lurch said when they approached.
“Keep your eyes on her. I’ll get food.”
Cal joined the line, eyes never leaving Io. Heat and humidity pressed in, but he ordered two butifarra sandwiches and coffees from Narino—a strong blend she’d probably like. Back in Germany, she’d always had coffee hot and ready.
He returned to the table with their tray. Lurch didn’t bother with small talk.
“You want to verify what she told me? Rusty’s not taking the check-in?”
“Correct. No Rusty.”
Lurch’s gaze flicked to Io, assessing. “BD looped me in on what you’re doing. Dual-prong?”
“That’s the plan,” Io said, lowering her sandwich. “You keep doing your thing. Cal and I run ours.”
“Why are you involved?” Lurch asked. “Archer and BD aren’t exactly buddies.”
“More like pistols at dawn,” Cal muttered.
“I negotiated,” Io said. “The team protects my sister in exchange for my help.”
Lurch studied her for a moment before nodding. “Fair enough. Let’s talk Torres.”
Io leaned in. “Why doesn’t he leave his compound? His wife travels all the time.”
“Paranoid,” Lurch said. “It got worse after his second-in-command betrayed him, but it was a factor before that happened. His men won’t make a move without his permission. Don’t want to piss him off and end up dead.”
“What about your meeting with Hernandez?” Cal asked.
“Nothing came of that.”
“Did something make him suspicious of you?” Io asked.
Lurch frowned. “If he suspected me, I’d be dead. Word is Torres is obsessed with the treasure.”
“Why?” Io asked. “Money’s easier to make with guns.”
“Legacy,” Lurch said. “The treasure’s mythic. Finding it would make him a national hero.”
Io’s brows went up. “National hero?”
“Sure. No one’s found the treasure in more than two hundred years. Imagine you’re an aging arms dealer who’ll be replaced the second you’re gone. Now imagine you locate a treasure that contains the cultural heritage of your country. Imagine your name on plaques throughout the national museum.”
Cal didn’t like the way Io’s mouth curved.
“So if he believes someone else is close,” she said, “he’ll act fast.”
“Fast and violent,” Lurch warned. “He kills first, thinks later.”
“I can handle myself,” Io said, voice hard.
Cal grimaced. “Take that as we’re moving full speed ahead.”
Lurch closed his eyes briefly. “Torres believes the treasure is already his. If you bait him, he’ll go after you and Baggs with everything he’s got.”
Io stood, finishing her coffee. “No risk, no reward.”
Lurch grimaced. Cal didn’t. He kept his focus on the crowd, on the angles, on the exits. Io’s bravado wasn’t new. Neither was the way she tossed gasoline when someone warned her about fire.
He didn’t rise to it. Didn’t comment. Didn’t give her anything to push against.
“We done here?” he asked, standing.
Io nodded and started walking. He caught up with her and they fell into step, slipping back into the flow of the market. She checked their tail. Cal watched the perimeter. Their rhythm was seamless, practiced, automatic—and as much as he hated to admit it, they made a good team.
Not that he wanted her anywhere near this mess.
She continued glancing at him, but Cal kept his expression calm. Maybe she didn’t believe it, but he knew Io.
And he wasn’t giving her a single spark to ignite. Not when one wrong spark had already blown their marriage apart. He couldn’t afford another explosion. Not when her life, not just their past, was on the line.