Page 10 of Freedom Fighters
That made Carmen think of Minnie, whom she had left in the hands of Zalaya and Serrano in the palace. Briefly, she wondered how Minnie had faired, then deliberately shut down the train of thought. She couldn’t do anything for Minnie and her lost love. Worrying about her was a waste of energy.
Carmen typed quickly.
Hey, Mr. Intensity! I’m new to the group, but I very much like wrestling, especiallyIWU, I watch it all the time. I don’t like Jackson Jeer, though. He’s a bad ass. It’s the look in his eyes. But I can tell you’re a fine, upstanding Christian and I think I’m going to like this group a lot.
She paused with the cursor over the “post” button. Jackson Jeer was Serrano. She wondered if this would be enough to tell Cristián she was another Loyalist and wise to the ways of the group.Then she shrugged and tapped the post button.
The message wrote itself on the wall.
She was about to disconnect and shut the laptop to save power when a private message popped up in the lower corner of her screen.
Welcome to the group, Hernandez. What else do you like, besides wrestling?
It was Mr. Intensity.
Carmen chewed at her lip.
“Tell him you like opera,” Garrett said, from just behindher.
She jumped, startled. She hadn’t been aware of his approach at all. “Opera?” she asked doubtfully.
“Just tell him.”
She considered how Hernandez might say such an odd thing, then typed it.It’s going to sound funny, but I like music. Classical music.
Garrett made an impatient sound.
“It has to sound natural,” Carmen told him.
Favorite composers?
Garrett squatted down next to her. “He’sfigured it out,” he said. “He’s ahead of you. Feed it to him.”
“Feed himwhat?” Carmen asked. “The only opera I’ve ever heard is my father singing in the bathroom.”
“Bizet. Tell him your favorite composer is Bizet.”
Really like Bizet.
She glanced at Garrett uncertainly. He drew her attention back to the screen with a jerk of his stubbled chin.
Favorite piece?Cristián asked.
She looked atGarrett again.
“His last one,” he said.
She typed out “His last one,” then tapped the send button.
The conversation disappeared, the screen closed up and she was left staring at the Facebook group page once more.
“Disconnect,” Garrett told her. “Now.”
“I don’t understand,” she said, unhooking the phone and powering down the laptop. “Why did he leave?”
“You confirmed who you are, so he brokethe direct connection just in case someone was listening.”
“To a private message?”
