Page 80 of Casualties of War
He didn’t stop talking when he reached the end of the story about the night the hospital wing had been bombed. He spoke of his unsettled feelings, watchingthe war progress in Vistaria from his nice, safe house in Bel Air, knowing his cousin Nicolás and his friends and family were working to preserve the country they loved. His growing frustration that his one contribution to the war to that point—setting up a meeting with Nick and the President of the United States—had ended with zero net gain, for the President had not declared public supportas he had promised. The betrayal had wounded Adán, more than perhaps he realized from the off-hand way he spoke of failing to reach the President and of his calls being ignored.
Parris detected the pain in his voice, though. She realized with a start that Adán had let down his shields. This was the old Adán, speaking of everything in his heart and mind—only not about the torturous intrigue ofHollywood, but the gasping struggle his country was making to stay alive.
“Then there was you,” Adán added.
Parris jumped again. “Me.” She compressed her reaction and hid it.
“I didn’t know where you were. I’ve never known and I wouldn’t have guessed you were here in a million years,” he said. “I only knew you weresomewhere, fighting for your country, while I was sipping champagne. It mademe ill to think of the differences between us.”
“God, Adán, please tell me you didn’t dive into this war because of me?” she pleaded. What if he died here? It would be on her…
Adán shook his head. “I didn’t do itforyou. I did itbecauseof you. You made me feel…well, guilty.” He frowned. “I couldn’t stomach play-acting anymore. Not when my friends and family are giving everything they haveto win this war.”
The same raw pain was in his voice, only it was thememoryof guilt bringing it forth. Now she understood what had changed in him. “You feel as though you’ve made a difference,” she said. “You’ve helped.”
“I don’t think I’ve done nearly enough to help,” he said. “But I’m doingsomething, at least. Now I can just about look at myself in the mirror once more.”
“You’ve done morethan you know,” she assured him.
“If running like hell to get away from a trio of stupid Insurrectos counts, then okay.” He said it lightly.
Parris moved closer to him and dropped her voice. “What I’m about to tell you is so classified I could be charged with treason if it ever got out that I shared it with you. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do,” he said. “I’m not asking you to do that, Parris.I can live with you keeping half your life secret. You always have.”
She shook her head. “You need to hear this. You need to understand why President Collins refused to talk to you. It’s not because you’repersona non grata. It’s not because you didn’t make a difference.”
Adán’s black eyes met hers. “Are you sure I must know?”
She nodded. “The brand new hospital wing, Adán. It had a brand newsterilizing unit in the basement. It was a Cobalt 60 Gamma unit. The Insurrectos did blow up the wing, only they didn’t do it to make a public statement. They were making a private one.”
She watched Adán put it together. “Jesus!” he breathed. “The cobalt!”
She nodded. “The bomb was designed to fracture the basement floor, so they could get at the cobalt unit. There was enough cobalt in the coreto make a large dirty bomb. They sent the President a message, that if he stepped in on the Loyalist side of the war in Vistaria, they would detonate the bomb in one of the larger cities.”
Adán turned to face the tree. He leaned against the trunk, his uninjured arm a straight prop. He hung his head, absorbing it.
Parris moved around so she could see his face. His eyes were closed.
“That’s whyhe wouldn’t take my calls,” he breathed. “He didn’t want to lie to me. He couldn’t tell me the truth, either, because America doesn’t negotiate with terrorists and I would have hounded him to support the Loyalists. He can’t do that, either. He was playing for time…”
“And he’s still doing it,” Parris told him. “That’s why we’re here. We HALO’d onto Vistaria less than twelve hours after the bombdetonated.”
Adán lifted his head. “The cobalt ishere?”
She nodded. “Radioactive material leaves a trail specialized drones can track. The trail led to Vistaria then disappeared. We’ve been searching for it ever since. We’re all Spanish speakers, we’ve all done covert missions and can blend in…I even have a black wig and black contacts if I need them.”
“You said there was a time crunch,” Adánpointed out.
She nodded. “Twenty-four hours ago, something pinged the drones. A tiny trace, but it’s the first hint we’ve had. We were given the coordinates. That’s where we’re going, Adán. We’re going to stop a dirty bomb.”
Adán blew out his breath. He rolled his head back and laughed, then sighed. “I shouldn’t be laughing. There’s a fucking dirty bomb and the Insurrectos are threatening touse it, but goddamn it, Parris…!” He pummeled the tree with his fist. “I was right all along. I wasright!”
“Yes, you were,” she said, smiling.
He drew in another deep, deep breath, then blew it out in a gusty sigh. “I feel like…like I just got my life back.”
She nodded.
