Two American couples were attacked in their hotel rooms in Cd. Juárez last night with eyewitnesses blaming members of Los Zetas cartel.
“ARE YOU SURE you understand?”
Natalie nodded. “Yes.”
Zach sat and leveled his gaze at her, a warning look in his eyes. “No slipups.”
She pushed the button for speaker phone so that he could hear the conversation, then dialed the direct line for her editor’s desk, feeling both excited and nervous. Zach had grilled her about her coworkers and her boss, asking questions about each and every one of them. When he’d heard that Kat was Navajo, he’d seemed especially interested in her. He’d written out a script for Natalie, warning her that he would end the call if she deviated from it. Then he’d made her wait until they were packed and ready to go, so that the moment she hung up, they could leave the hotel.
Now it was finally time.
The phone rang once, twice, three times.
“Tom Trent.”
Natalie’s throat grew tight at the sound of Tom’s grouchy voice, and she had to swallow before she could speak. “Hi, Tom. It’s me. Please don’t say my name.”
There was a pause and some noise in the background. “I’m listening.”
She knew he was doing more than listening. He was recording the call, too, as they all did when an important call came in. “Nothing I say, not even the fact that I called, can go in the paper or online.”
“Understood. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to put you on speaker phone.”
Natalie looked over to Zach, who nodded. “That’s fine. Go ahead.”
From the background came gasps, and Natalie knew Tom had quickly summoned the rest of the I-Team into his office. They were all there, standing around his desk—everyone except Joaquin. And again her throat grew tight.
She looked down at her notes, fought to keep from tearing up. “This vacation got off to a bad start. I met some people I didn’t like. Then things turned around. I met another tourist, and we’re traveling together. We’re trying to avoid crowds because we don’t want to be bothered.”
“Can we call someone? Can we help in any way?”
A part of her wanted to cry, “Yes!” and beg Tom to call the State Department, the White House, the CIA, and the Marines. But Zach was sitting right next to the phone. Though she still wasn’t convinced that he hadn’t stolen that cocaine, he had proved that he was willing to risk his life to protect her. Besides, it was obvious that he knew Mexico much better than she did. Given the situation, she had little choice but to trust him.
“No, thanks.” It hurt to say those words.
“What’s next on your itinerary?” Tom was playing along.
“We’re not sure.” She only hoped what she had to say next would make sense to someone, because it made no sense to her. “I have a message for Kat.”
“She’s here. Go ahead.”
Natalie began to read from the notes Zach had written, careful to annunciate each nonsense syllable. “A-zeh-ha-geyah. Bi-tsan-dehn. Wol-la-chee. Ah-jad. A-woh. Be-la-sana. Dah-nes-tsa.”
She went on, hoping Kat understood what she was saying, because she certainly didn’t. The words must be Navajo—why else would Zach want the message to go to Kat? But when Natalie had asked Zach where he’d learned to speak Navajo, he told her that he didn’t speak Navajo at all.
She finished reciting the message, then waited, wondering how Kat would respond. But there was only silence. “Should I say that again?”
“No,” Tom answered. “I think we got it.”
Zach motioned for her to end the call.
But she didn’t want to hang up. Hearing Tom’s voice, knowing her friends were there—it felt like a lifeline. A link to home.
Then Tom spoke. “Before you go, there’s someone who wants to say hello.”
Natalie looked over to Zach, who frowned, tapping the face of his new watch and whispering, “Only if it’s really quick.”
“Is that really you,chula?”