Page 35 of Forbidden Access

People noticed strangers, and in this town, they would be very noticeable. In retrospect, somewhere busier might have helped them blend in more.

Still, the chances of anyone finding them here were very remote, and the backpacker legend was a good one. It gave them an excuse to wander around aimlessly, eating on the cheap and lying low. A couple of days was all they needed before they’d head to Miami for the conference.

“Where’d you learn to speak Spanish?” she asked, once they’d gotten to their room. It was clean and comfortable, if a little sparse, and contained only the bare minimum of furniture. There was no television, no WiFi, and barely any cell phone reception.

Perfect.

“One of my foster families was fluent,” he replied, vaguely.

“Why didn’t you say?”

He gave the first hint of a smile since they’d arrived. “Didn’t want to spoil the surprise.”

She snorted. At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. She took that to be a good sign.

“I’ll take this side.” Thorn placed her pack on the bed. It was a small double that dipped in the middle, but the bedding looked clean. She wanted to be closest to the door in case anything came through it in the night.

“Works for me,” Damian said, walking over to the window, about to push open the shutters.

“Don’t!” Thorn shot away from the bed. “You shouldn’t do that. You never know who’s waiting outside with a sniper rifle.”

He sighed and stepped back, but she noticed the flicker of concern in his eyes. He knew she was right. Even out here, in the middle of nowhere, someone could be watching.

“I didn’t think.”

“You don’t have to think about it. That’s why I’m here. Stand back.” He moved out of the window’s line of sight so she could open the shutters. Sunlight streamed in, lighting up the sparse room and pooling on the threadbare rug.

“Nice view,” he muttered, gazing out at the town square.

The plaza was charmingly rustic, typical of a small Mexican village. The surrounding buildings had weathered, whitewashed walls, clay-tile roofs, and wooden shutters. Some were modest eateries with a few tables outside under faded umbrellas. A group of children kicked a ball around near a crumbling statue of a man on a horse, probably the town’s founder or someone equally significant.

“It’s quaint.” She looked down. The drop was about three and a half meters. “And we can make the jump if we have to get out this way.”

He studied her. “Do you ever switch off?”

She snorted softly. “I try not to. This isn’t a holiday. Don’t think Markov can’t get to you here. We have to be prepared for anything.”

“I thought we’d be safe here.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, which creaked under his weight. “Nobody knows where we are, right?”

“Maybe, but we need contingencies, just in case.” Always be prepared—that was the motto that had been drummed into her during her training.

“Okay. Well, you come up with the contingencies. I’m going to take a shower.” Damian bent over and unzipped his backpack. “Unless you want to go first?”

She shook her head. “Go ahead. I’m going to take a look around before it gets too crowded. I need to check out a few things.”

He frowned. “You’re going to leave me here alone?”

“Yeah, but you’ll be fine. I’m going to lock you in since we only have one key.”

“You could leave the key with me,” he suggested. “I’ll let you in when you get back.”

Thorn hesitated. “I’d prefer to keep it with me.”

His expression darkened. “Don’t you trust me to stay put?”

“Of course,” she lied. “I just think it’s safer this way.”

The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Fine. You’re the boss.”

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