Page 74 of Prisoner of War
Minnie casually rolled over to the edge of the bed, bringing the knife withher, held between the flat of her hand and her thigh. She walked into the bathroom, over to the toilet where the camera could not see her, the chain dragging on the tiles behind her.
Thoughtfully, she lifted the lid on the cistern tank and dropped the knife into the clean water and heard the quiet “clink” as it touched bottom. She replaced the lid carefully, making sure it fit back down the wayit had been seated before.
The rest of Duardo’s instructions were emblazoned in her memory. “You use it, you hear me? It does not matter what you do with it. Stab, slice, hack. You keep using it and you get yourself out of trouble if you can. If it comes to it, you use the knife.”
* * * * *
Vistaria lay in the next time zone from Mexico, which meant that the east coast of the United Stateswas four hours ahead. When four a.m. crept closer, Carmen eased her way out of the attic using one of the minor entrances she had been employing for the last three days. It put her at the far north end of the third floor main passageway. At this end, on this level, there were offices for junior personnel with three or four men per room.
In the last three days she had learned that Serrano hadtaken the big, secondary dining room in the south wing for his own office suite. She had watched him shut down the lights in that office and leave for his bedroom suite across the hall nearly three hours before.
This end of the palace was deserted at this time of night.
As she crept along the passage, watching for the security cameras and sliding beneath or around their range of vision and flittingfrom shadow to shadow, she spared a thought for Minnie. In three days of peering through ceiling vents, listening and creeping around the corridors at night, she had failed to locate Zalaya’s offices. She knew only that they were on the second floor but had dared not explore that level, for Zalaya had surrounded himself with night owls and dense levels of security.
She eased open the door ofthe nearest office and slipped inside. Four officers used this room, with a secretary at the front to act as receptionist. She stepped past the secretary’s desk even though a computer sat on it. A secretary would most certainly know more about computers than the officers he served and might notice if anything was out of place or different.
She headed for the biggest desk and the computer sittingon the smaller trolley next to it. The pleated and studded leather chair behind the desk said the most senior officer sat here. She sank onto the leather and ran her hands over the front of the computer tower, feeling her way. She depressed the biggest button she could find and was rewarded by a quiet poofing sound as the monitor warmed up and turned on.
She grabbed the mouse and explored thehard drive quickly. “Knew you’d be too afraid to screw with anything.” Pleased, she flipped over to the Internet browser program and logged into her Facebook account. She called up the private message function.
The chat window opened, showing he was online.
She tapped out her message.
Hola, Ricky. Still popping Red Bull for breakfast?
It seemed like a week passed before the status line showedhe was typing.
carmen????? :)
Carmen took a deep breath, feeling the first positive emotion she had felt in weeks. It was hope.
She began typing. Fast.
* * * * *
Soto and the IT engineer, Morales, were too eager. They pulled ahead of Zalaya in their rush to get to the end of the corridor. Only, Zalaya would not be hurried and it forced them to slow down and wait.
At the door they pausedand looked at Zalaya, who came up behind them and indicated they could go ahead.
Morales turned the handle and stepped back and Soto, who had the gun, went first. Morales slipped in behind him and turned on the lights.
The room was empty. Soto, his head down as he sighted along the barrel, swiveled the gun as he quartered the room visually, checking each desk and chair. Then he lowered it andlooked at Morales with a sour expression. He glanced at Zalaya who had stepped in behind them. “False alarm,” he said, disgusted.
Zalaya nodded. “At four in the morning, I expected little else.”
Morales shook his head. “I’m not wrong. Someone was using the captain’s computer and accessing the Internet.” He moved behind the big desk at the back of the room and pulled out the leather chair.
Soto checked beneath the desk before tapping the blank monitor screen. “It looks like you are wrong, though,” he told Morales. He glanced at Zalaya again. “I apologize for disturbing you at this hour, sir.”
Zalaya nodded and turned toward the door. “Let’s leave, gentlemen.”
“Wait,” Morales said, pulling the chair back farther so he could see. “The CPU is still running.”
Soto frowned. “What thehell does that mean?”
Zalaya came up to the desk. “Turn the screen on,” he said softly.
