Page 44 of For the Love of Animals

We’d barely spoken about my new home in Virginia, only that it was being renovated and the heating didn’t totally work right now. Nate had promised to keep me warm at night, so I figured I could live with that. And at least I wouldn’t need to share a bathroom with nineteen men, most of whom had problems judging distance. In the end, I’d taped up a laminated sign: Please stand closer to the toilet—your pija isn’t as long as you think.

Fortunately, Nate didn’t appear to suffer from either of those problems.

And now he rolled me over to straddle him, and I had to smile at the view. Only three more weeks until I could wake up to that every morning.

The olive-green plane stood on the tarmac, a drab homage to functionality over style in the shimmering heat haze. Everything I needed for my time in Campeche fitted in my backpack, including the extra-large bottle of bug repellent and the mosquito net Nate had given me as parting gifts. And the cookies from Grandma. Yes, she’d woken up fit and healthy on Tuesday morning, if a little sheepish after her dramatic declarations of the previous six months. I hadn’t entirely forgiven her for the wedding surprise, but I was getting there, especially after spending two more nights with Nate.

I hefted my rifle case as I climbed the steps, hoping I wouldn’t have to use the army-issued HK PSG1 in anger on this operation. A nice, easy trip—that was what I wanted. No paperwork. My beloved AWM was in Nate’s care, waiting to be shipped back to the US with his CheyTac and the crate of other belongings I wanted to take with me. He’d be leaving too, for a short job in Washington State, but he’d promised to come back to Mexico so we could fly to Virginia together. Funny how quickly I’d gotten used to the idea of him being around. Other than Teo, nobody had ever waited for me to step off the plane, and my heart skipped just thinking about it. For the first time, a few butterflies fluttered in my stomach—what if his friends back home didn’t like me?

Don’t start, Carmen. Focus on the job.

I ran through my mental checklist as I slumped into the uncomfortable canvas seat. Gun: check. Ammo: check. Clean underwear: check. Sunglasses: check. Eighteen days to go. Four hundred and thirty-two hours. What was that in minutes? I didn’t want to think about it—too long, and I was useless at math unless it involved sniping calculations.

“You’re definitely leaving?” Nestor asked. “I thought you’d be in GAFE for life.”

“Things change.”

“I always felt safer with you at my back.”

Really? He’d never said that before. “Thanks, I guess. You’re going to Campeche? I thought you were still on medical leave.”

Nestor had gotten a stress fracture in his ankle, and the doctor insisted he rest for six weeks. That was a month ago.

“I was going crazy stuck at headquarters, and the new doctor signed me off.”

“New doctor? Is he good?”

“She, and I can’t really remember. Everything after the first bottle of tequila is a blur, but she was smiling the next morning.”

You see what I had to work with? “I thought you’d go with one of the other teams this week.”

“They didn’t need any more people in Chihuahua, and I got the impression Captain Benitez only wanted a select few in Sonora. There’s something odd about that guy.”

“I was supposed to—”

Heavy footsteps on the metal stairs outside interrupted me. Who else was coming? I thought we were only waiting for the pilot to do his final checks. What the…? A trio of military police marched in, guns at their sides.

“You two. Off the plane.”

Nestor stood first. “We’re from GAFE. What’s going on?”

“Your whole unit has been suspended pending investigation. Would you follow us, please?”

Please. He might have used the word, but there was nothing polite about his request.

“Why are we being suspended? We haven’t done anything wrong.”

Lozano had been a sanctioned kill, the same as every other one of my victims. And although Nestor was a prick at times, I couldn’t think of any rules he’d broken either. He’d been on crutches for the last month, for Pete’s sake.

“Tell us what’s going on,” I demanded. “And show us some ID before you start issuing orders.”

I may have been a woman, but I was still GAFE, and the tallest of the policemen paused at my tone.

“We have a directive from the Secretariat of National Defense.” He handed over his ID card. “Your captain has been arrested for corruption, and until we find out who else on his team is in league with him, you’re all suspended from active duty.”

“Corruption?” Nate had mentioned his suspicions of that, but I never thought for a moment they’d actually arrest Captain P. “Are you serious?”

“You need to get off the plane now.”

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