Tim shook his head, stretched out on his blanket. “It’s just hard to understand. Sex is a basic human drive. I’m not sure how a person gives that up.”
Gabriela loved sex. Not that she’d had many men. Her parents had been very strict when it came to boys. She’d had a serious boyfriend her last two years of college, but it hadn’t lasted beyond graduation. Mitch had wanted a traditional marriage. She’d wanted a career. Dating had become tricky after she’d joined the Agency.
Even so, she was more old-fashioned than her friends. She wasn’t into casual sex or Tinder or online dating. Still, the idea of going without the possibility of sex for a year or more had been intimidating. To her surprise, she’d been so tired every night that she hadn’t even thought about it.
Gabriela kept that to herself. “Do you want to hear what I miss most?”
Dianne and Tim nodded almost in unison.
“Blue jeans and rock music.” What she wouldn’t give for a classic rock station.
“Shut up, over there!” Gordito shouted in Spanish. “You talk too much.”
Head still aching, Gabriela sat on her blanket, folded her hands, and closed her eyes, as if she were in prayer. During these silent periods, she rarely prayed. Instead, she used the time to get focused, to think.
Had anyone spotted her? Was the building under surveillance? Or had she gotten this black eye for no reason?
* * *
Dylan finisheda quick-and-dirty workout of pushups, sit-ups, and squats and took a quick shower before sitting down to a breakfast burrito of powdered eggs, black beans, salsa, and potatoes. “Hey, man, you make a good burrito.”
“Don’t act so surprised.” Segal had been on duty all night, and it was his turn to make the morning meal. “Tel Aviv has some of the best Mexican food in the world.”
Jones was on duty at the window. “Come on, man. Tel Aviv?”
“Do you think all we Israelis eat is gefilte fish, latkes, and Chinese?” Segal sat down with his own plate. “Come taste for yourself.”
Dylan took a sip of coffee. “Anything happening over there, brother?”
“Nah, man. They’ve changed the guards a couple times, but I haven’t seen any of the hostages.”
Last night, they’d broken out the thermal camera and done their best to peer through the windows. They hadn’t found the hostages, but they had learned a couple of things. Though there were guards on the roof, no one was positioned on the two upper floors, which remained completely dark. More importantly, there’d been a faint light coming from the small basement windows.
Someone was down there.
While Segal took a quick shower, Dylan finished his breakfast, did the dishes, and then relieved Jones so he could grab a bite.
“I’m impressed,” Jones called over to him. “These burritos are good, even with the powdered eggs. Don’t tell Segal I said that.”
Dylan chuckled. “And give him an even bigger head? No way.”
“I heard that!” Segal yelled from the bathroom.
Then it was time for their check-in with Shields and Tower.
“We’ve run all the photos through face recognition and analyzed the footage from last night.” The image of Shields on their laptop’s monitor had frozen, but Dylan and the others could still hear her voice. “That’s definitely Sister María Catalina and the man who abducted her—a well-knownsicarioknown as Python—Pitón.”
So, that’s what thehijoeputacalled himself.
Time to cut the head off that snake.
Shields went on. “There’s an almost one hundred percent probability that the other hostages are there, too.”
“Could the nun be colluding with Sánchez or the cartel?” Segal had gone on about that yesterday evening. “The guards didn’t try to stop her when she walked outside.”
Dylan found himself jumping once again to Sister María’s defense. “You saw that son of a bitch drag her back inside, right? That’s them trying to stop her.”
“He did more than drag her inside.” The frozen image of Shields vanished from the screen, replaced by a photo of the warehouse door. “We magnified the images you sent. Not only did Pitón drag her back inside, but he also knocked her to the floor.”