Giles Blunt - Breaking Lorca

“Where are you, Daddy? Why don’t you come home?” The other twin was on the other line now. He smiled at his mental image of the two of them, their dark hair shining from the bath and smelling of shampoo. They would be in their matching pyjamas: elephants and leopards.

“Daddy’s working. You know I have to work long hours sometimes. I hope you’ve brushed your teeth.”

“Oh, yes.”

“And don’t forget to say your prayers. Put your mother on now.”

“Hello, soldier. Your little girls certainly miss you.”

“I miss them too.”

“All your girls miss you. How is the war treating you?”

“A little slow at the moment. I was thinking of you, wondering what you were up to without me.”

“I was hemming my new dress. The girls are impossible when you’re away. Such moods!”

“Like their mother.”

“It’s true. I wish they could be even-tempered like you. My life would be much easier. Where are you, Eduardo? I know I’m not supposed to ask.”

“No, you’re not. What’s happened to my army wife?”

“She’s fed up with being an army wife. It’s when you’re away that I worry the most. That’s when I think the worst. Are you far away?”

“Very far. I can’t tell you where.” Security, discipline, these were not usually so difficult for Captain Pena, and it surprised him how badly he wanted to tell his wife where he was. He wanted to tell her he had seen the Washington Monument today, and the Lincoln Memorial. More than anything, he wanted to tell her he had seen the White House. She would be so envious. But all he said was, “I wish you were here with me, darling.”

“Really? You never say that, Eduardo.”

“Usually there is danger when I am travelling. This place is different. Here, there is no danger.”

Tito rapped on the door. “Something happening, Captain.”

“Duty calls, darling. Kiss the girls for me.”

“Promise me you’ll be careful. I want you back in one piece.”

Captain Pena made his promises, sent his hugs, kisses and blessings down the telephone line, and joined Tito in the other room.

“She yanked the curtains suddenly. I thought you should know. It looked like something was up.”

“Her light is still on. Probably she just got out of the shower. Didn’t want nasty voyeurs like you looking in.”

“Hah. I saw her skinny little tits when she pulled the curtain. There! You can see her shadow when she moves in front of the light. What if she doesn’t go out, Captain? What if she decides to stay in?”

“We’re in Washington, sergeant. She won’t be able to resist going out.”

“She might play it safe. Stay in her hotel room all night.”

“Suppose a fire alarm were to go off? A diversion of some sort. Outdoors is best, but if we have to, we will simply cross the street and make a little social call.”

“I can’t wait to fix that bitch. Teach her to testify.”

As he backed away from the windows, Victor’s knees shook beneath him. Still a coward, he thought, no matter how I spell my name. He went down the hall to Lorca’s room and banged on the door. “Lorca!” He tried to open it, but it was locked. He could hear the hiss of the shower.

A room-service waiter trundling a cart eyed him suspiciously, and Victor took the elevator to the ground floor.

Beyond the lobby, a corridor led to various business suites and conference halls. Two men in identical blue suits sat at a table, partially blocking the hall. From the suite of rooms behind them, eager voices issued. Victor told the guards he needed to see Bob Wyatt.

“You have some identification, sir?”

“No. I am a witness at tomorrow’s hearing. I have to speak with Mr. Wyatt. An urgent matter. Can you find him for me?”

“I’m not paid to find people. I’m paid to keep unauthorized persons out of this area. Now, unless your name is on my list-”

A small knot of people came out of one door and crossed the hall toward another. Wyatt’s booming voice filled the hall, even though he was almost hidden behind a glossy young man with very thick hair and a beautiful pinstripe suit. Victor called out over the heads of the security guards, “Bob! Bob, I must speak with you!”

Two lines of annoyance formed between Wyatt’s luxurious brows. “What is it, Ignacio? I’m busy.”

Victor motioned him away from the crowd, away from the security guards.

Wyatt cursed under his breath. “Ignacio, really. I don’t have time for this now.”

“Lorca is in danger. Men from the little school are here. They are watching us from across the street.”

Bob gave a short, skeptical laugh. “In Washington? Get a grip, Ignacio. I understand you’re nervous, but let’s not get totally paranoid. I’ll see you a little later. We’re planning strategy here.”

“Your strategy won’t be worth anything if your best witness dies. They are here , Bob. They are right across the street.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. How could they possibly know Lorca is here? How could they even know she’s alive?”

Victor waved his hands at the crowded hall. “Obviously because you told everyone in the world. We have to hide her, keep her somewhere safe until tomorrow.”

“I can’t leave now. We’re wrapped up in strategy here. If you want to take it up with the reception desk, go ahead.”

The pinstriped young man had been moving closer as they spoke. Now he laid a cautioning hand on Wyatt’s arm. “Couldn’t help but hear, Bob. If this man has legitimate security concerns, we should take them straight to Greg.” He shook hands with Victor. “Roger Carey, chief coordinator.”

Competence shone from the young man’s features; he had the smile of a Kennedy. Victor shook his hand with relief.

“Come on, I’ll take you through. It’s okay, guys,” he said to the guards. Then, to Victor: “Greg is our security wizard. Actually, he’s the Senator’s security wizard. State Department coughed him up.”

The three of them passed through a living room full of flowers and fruit, as if someone were in hospital. The bedroom next to it had been converted into an office where students typed at computers and talked urgently into telephones. Carey rapped on the next door. “Greg! It’s Roger!”

A voice told him to enter.

“Give me a second,” Carey said, flashing his Kennedy smile, and slipped into the room.

Wyatt turned on Victor. “How did you recognize these so-called hit men? I thought you were blindfolded at the little school. How did you see them, Ignacio? How can you possibly recognize them now?”

“They took my blindfold off for the land transfer ceremony. Believe me, I can recognize them.”

“From that one instance? Are you sure, Ignacio?”

“My name is not Ignacio.”

The furry brows contracted. A meaty paw rose to stroke the great beard. “Oh, really. Really. That’s interesting. That’s extremely interesting. Maybe you’d like to tell me-”

Carey appeared at the door again and beckoned them inside.

“So what the hell is your name?” Wyatt hissed as they went inside.

A man was on the phone, his back to them. He swivelled from side to side in a chair with a high back, so that all they could see of him was his hair-flat, blond, schoolboyish. It was the colour of corn and flashed each time he swivelled toward the desk lamp. “Is that so?” he was saying on the phone. “Is that what he thinks?”

Victor tried to get a better look at him, but Wyatt’s bulk was blocking his view. Wyatt turned to him now and said, “You’re going to have to explain yourself, you know.”

“Everything will be explained. Just now, Lorca is more important.”