Vistaria Has Fallen (The Vistaria Affair/Vistaria Has Fallen #1)(71)

He smiled. “You, of course.” He turned to look at Minnie. “At the end, Duardo understood it better than I did. Don’t sacrifice love, for there is no greater cause and you never get the time back if you let it slip away.”

Minnie smiled. Her cheeks were wet with tears.

Nick picked up Calli’s hand. “I won’t allow Duardo’s sacrifice to be meaningless.” He kissed her hand. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her briefly, then let her go. “We must leave. Now. I have to get you to the boat.”

*

Twenty minutes later they clattered onto an extended dock, running like crazy for a long sloop tied at the end of the wooden pier, their bags and packs slapping against their legs and backs. Although they had not been challenged again, Nick took no more chances.

He grabbed the rail of the boat and vaulted over the side onto the decking. “Joshua, come with me!” he called as he pushed aside a pair of doors. He climbed down into the cabin.

Calli helped the other two on board and went below, to see what else needed doing. She found both her uncle and Nick standing at a radio, listening. Nick had the microphone in his hands, as if he had been speaking and was now waiting for a response.

Nothing but harsh buzzing and static.

“What’s happening?” she asked.

“Shhh...” Joshua told her and shook his head, glancing at Nick.

The radio crackled to life and a tinny, distant voice sounded.

“Soy arrepentido, Nicolás. Ha sido confirmado. Jose murió hace veinte minutos. Sobre.”

“Ah, dammit...” Joshua breathed.

Nick grimaced and looked down at his feet. Then, after a second, he lifted the mike. “Cómo?”

The response lagged. “El fuego enemigo...No vuelva a la ciudad, Nicolás. Ellos estarán en el Palacio antes de interrupción de día...Usted tendrá que encontrar otra manera. Oye usted? Sobre.”

Nick looked at Joshua and it seemed they exchanged a silent communication, for he sighed and said into the mike, “Sí, oigo. Sobre y fuera.” He threw the mike onto the shelf beside the slim radio set and turned the radio off.

“I didn’t get the last part,” Joshua said apologetically.

“I didn’t get any of it,” Calli added.

Nick leaned against the shelf with his elbow, running his hand over his face. “Jose is dead,” he said. “He died twenty minutes ago. Enemy fire, they tell me, along with a hard warning not to go back to the city. They estimate the palace will be taken by the revolutionaries by dawn.”

“I’m sorry, Nick,” she said softly.

“With Jose dead, you can’t go back,” Joshua said. “You must come to Mexico with us. Regroup there and get your bearings. Carmen is there, too. She must be told.”

Nick shut his eyes for a moment. “The fastest revolution in history,” he said.

“It’s not over until you say it is,” Calli said. “As long as you don’t quit fighting, it’s not finished.”

He looked at her and gave her a small smile. It was almost a grimace. “Thank you,” he said.





Chapter Seventeen


The unnatural motion of the mattress beneath her woke Minnie from the shallow sleep she had achieved. She rolled onto her back and stared up at the bottom of the bunk above her. Scattered light bouncing off waves played on the painted wood, reflected through the porthole next to her. The aching hurt and sadness came back, slipping over her like a pall.

“Duardo,” she whispered to the dark.

She deliberately recalled the last moments again, trying to acquaint herself with the fact, for it still did not seem real. It felt as though someone would arrive soon and explain it was all a terrible mistake, so sorry, speak to our lawyers.

She lay remembering Duardo’s words. Nick’s voice, as he translated them. The feel of Duardo beneath her as she lay against him for the few moments she’d have before they took him away—

Abruptly, she sat up and her head slammed into the bunk above. She held her forehead and rolled her eyes, trying to clear her mind and her sight, as a potent mix of excitement and horror burst through her. Mindful of her parents, who slept the sleep of the truly exhausted beside her, she whispered the astonishing fact just to herself, trying it aloud to see if it sounded as hopeful aloud as it seemed in her stressed-out mind.

“He was still warm...!”

*

Just after midnight they crossed into international waters, the graceful yacht skimming the waves with the spinnaker billowed out full, spraying iridescent foam aside with each crest of water.

Calli emerged from below decks where she had been checking on the family of three sleeping in peaceful berths. She was armed with hot coffee and wore a sweater she had found in a cupboard. Nick sat at the big wheel, a single hand resting on it. She handed him the coffee.

He thanked her distantly. He was pre-occupied.

Calli drank her coffee and watched the moon sparkle on the black waves ahead, leaving him to his thoughts.

Nick stirred. “We’ll be in Mexico some time tomorrow,” he said, taking a sip and dropping the cup into the swinging holder hanging from the console.

“What’s wrong? Is it what Pablo said? You’re not running away, Nick. You’re just regrouping. We both know you won’t leave Vistaria to fend for itself for long.”