She ate in silence, her gaze on her food, hoping Pitón would focus his attention elsewhere and that they would all forget she was there.
No such luck.
Pitón spoke with his mouth full. “Don’t you worry about what you’re missing,Hermanita?”
María ignored him.
“When you’re alone in your cold bed at night, don’t you wonder what it would be like to be the bride of a man instead of the bride of Christ? A pretty girl like you should know a man’s love.”
She kept her expression serene. “For me, there is no greater joy than fulfilling my calling to serve God and no greater love than the love of God.”
“Leave her alone, Pitón, man,” muttered Topo.
“Shut up,mamagüevo.” Pitón glowered at Topo, but he left María alone.
She said a prayer of thanksgiving after the meal then asked one of the men to bring water to heat for washing up. When the bowls and spoons were clean again—or as clean as she could get them—she refilled them and carried them, together with the two bananas she’d managed to hide beneath her habit, downstairs to Dianne and Tim.
“Thank you, Sister.” Tim took his bowl and ate hungrily.
Dianne looked disapprovingly at him. “Shouldn’t we say grace? I mean, she’s a … I don’t want to offend you, Sister.”
Tim stopped, mid-chew, his gaze meeting María’s.
“I’m not offended. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.” Aware of the guard standing nearby, a big brute they called Gordito, María said grace once again, this time in English, carefully removing the bananas from the folds of her tunic and tucking them beneath Dianne’s blankets. “Now, please eat.”
Dianne had seen the bananas. “Thank you.”
The door opened, and Topo appeared, three mugs in hand. He smiled to reveal gold teeth. “Hot coffee.”
A cup of coffee cost more than a million bolivars these days, far beyond what most people could pay. But it didn’t surprise her that Sánchez’s men had access to such luxuries.
María stood, took the mugs from him, and handed one each to Dianne and Tim. “God will bless you for your kindness, Topo.”
He shifted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Do you truly think so?”
“Sí.” It would also help if Topo stopped working for a killer, but María didn’t say so, instead making the sign of the cross on his forehead. “Father, bless Topo for his compassion and help him to serve only Your will. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
“Gracias.” He exchanged a glance with Gordito, who rolled his eyes, then left them and went back upstairs.
María sat on the floor and sipped her coffee.
Dianne had finished her rice and beans. “I’m sorry you’re here with us, Sister, but I don’t know what we would do without you.”
“Please, don’t worry about me.” María gave them both what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I will do all I can to help you.”
They were luckier than they knew. The nun who’d been abducted with them wasn’t really Sister María Catalina, a devout religious sister. She was Gabriela Márquez, a US citizen and undercover CIA officer.
One way or another, they were going to get out of this alive.
* * *
Dylan maneuveredthe camera into position, glanced over his shoulder to see Jones pouring himself another mug of coffee. “We might be here for a while, and you’re not going to be able to buy more beans, brother.”
“Says the guy who’s already had two cups.” Jones went back to setting up the VPN that would enable them to communicate with Tower and Shields in Bogota.
“If the two of you are going to bicker like an old married couple the entire time we’re here, I’m going to need my own place.” Segal put the slide back on the Glock 19 he’d been cleaning.
They’d arrived in San Antonio de Los Altos last night, entering through Colombia with fake passports and ID cards, just three men driving a truckload of food and supplies for their families. Their weapons, surveillance, and communication gear lay concealed beneath a fortune in food and basic supplies, including beer and an agave liquor known ascocuy. Most of the food was theirs, but the rest of it was for the little black-market operation that would serve as their cover.