Tortured Spirits (51 page)

Jake sat in one interview room with Weissman while Maria sat in another with Freeman. The room was much tighter and more claustrophobic than those he had occupied before.

Weissman opened a file folder on the metal table between them. “Five days ago, you and Miss Vasquez landed on Pavot Island. Three days ago, our satellites detected increased helicopter traffic over the island. Two days ago, we detected what we believe to have been napalm in the jungle. Yesterday a full-scale revolution overthrew Ernesto Malvado's government. And today you and Vasquez came home.”

Jake studied Weissman. Clean-cut, professional, and slick. “We're a two-man mercenary team, only Maria's a woman. They call us Rambo and Shambo wherever we go.”

“Please tell me what happened on that island.”

Jake sighed. “My girlfriend and I”—the words sounded
strange to him—”took a cheap vacation on Pavot Island. We stayed at the Pleasant Mountain Resort, where we booked a suite for one week. On our second day there, we visited Pavot City, where we met an artist at a café. I asked him to draw Maria's portrait. He had just finished when soldiers arrived. A man and a woman sitting behind us drew guns and fired at the soldiers, who mowed them down. Our artist companion told us to run. The soldiers mowed him down, too.

“With the soldiers in pursuit, Maria and I split up. I was captured in an abandoned factory and taken to the Ministry of Defense. An ex-CIA spook named Bill Russel interrogated me. When I insisted I knew nothing about the people the soldiers had killed, he cut off my hand with a machete. I woke up in a clinic, where I was treated. Then I was relocated to a work farm. A group of—what shall we call them? freedom fighters?—rescued me and took me to a cave where Maria was waiting. We stayed there when the fighting broke out. And now here we are. I feel like a prisoner all over.”

Weissman took notes. “How do you know Bill Russel was ex-CIA?”

“I crossed paths with him once before when I worked for Nicholas Tower.”

“What did Mr. Russel have to do with Tower?”

“He designed the Tower's security systems.”

“Where is he now?”

“Wherever spooks go when they get scared.”

“We picked up several radio and TV transmissions that
mentioned you and Miss Vasquez by name. Did either one of you kill anyone while you were there?”

“No. I told you, we were on vacation.”

“What happened to Malvado?”

“I heard they killed him.”

“Why?”

Jake shrugged. “I guess it was the will of the people.”

Weissman looked him in the eye. “Okay, let's start over. Slower this time and in greater detail.”

“Look at that crowd,” Maria said as she steered their rented Monte Carlo onto Miriam's street.

Sitting beside her, Jake counted three TV news vans and four police cars parked along the street. Eight police officers held back a crowd of almost a hundred people who waved their fists in the air to the beat of salsa music booming from an unseen sound system.

“Libération de I'île Pavot! Libération de I'île Pavot! Libération de I'île Pavot!”

Maria pulled over to the curb ahead of the farthest police car, and they got out and made their way through the crowd to a policewoman who stood before caution tape.

“Maria Vasquez. I'm on the job in New York City. Miriam Santiago is expecting me.”

“Just a minute,” the policewoman said, then spoke into her hand radio.

Scanning the crowd, Jake saw three cameras mounted on tripods and two handheld rigs.

“Go ahead,” the policewoman said.

Maria and Jake ducked beneath the caution tape and crossed the lawn. The crowd's chanting grew louder. The front door opened before they reached it, and Fernando beckoned them inside. He clasped Jake's shoulder and nodded to Maria.

Inside the living room, a lanky policeman stood near the window with a bored look on his face.

Miriam emerged from a bedroom, followed by a female assistant. She wore a light blue silk dress, and her eyes lit up at the sight of her visitors. “Jake … Maria …” She kissed them each on the cheek, then inspected Jake's stump. “I'm so sorry.”

“We're sorry about Andre,” Maria said. “He was a good man. Brave.”

“I was with him when he died,” Jake said. “He told me to tell you he loved you.”

Miriam's eyes filled with tears. “I'm sorry he died, but I'm glad he got to see Pavot Island liberated. It was always his dream.”

“And now you'll be the interim president,” Maria said.

“I shared Andre's dream. I'll see it through. Come into the bedroom with me. Let's speak in private.”

Jake and Maria followed Miriam into a second bedroom. The first thing Jake saw was the empty birdcage on the plush chair in the far corner on his left. The second was the man lying on his back in the bed, sheets pulled up
over his stomach.

“Edgar!” Maria ran to the bed.

Heart quickening, Jake moved beside her.

Edgar offered them a weak smile. His lips appeared dry, and shades of gray dotted his hair.

He looks ten years older,
Jake thought.
Animals age faster than human beings.

“Hey, partners,” Edgar said in a croaking whisper.

“He's having trouble speaking,” Miriam said. “He hasn't used those vocal cords for speech in a year.”

Maria grasped Edgar's arm. “I don't believe it.” Her face bunched up and tears flowed.

“Don't cry,” Edgar said.

“When did you turn him back?” Jake whispered to Miriam.

“I started making preparations as soon as you left for Pavot Island. Two days later, I cast the reversion spell. It took a full day for him to return to normal. It was a long, painful process that left him in shock. He only started speaking yesterday. I'm leaving for Pavot Island in a few hours, but I'm keeping this house. Stay here as long as you like until he's able to travel. I'll leave you alone with him now.” Miriam exited the room and closed the door behind her.

Jake moved closer to the bed.

Edgar stared at his scarred face. “You look awful.”

“You got old.” Jake's voice choked with emotion.

Edgar dropped his gaze to Jake's stump. “What the hell happened?”

“I always said I'd give my right arm for you.”

“That's your left arm and you never said that.”

Maria hugged Edgar. “I'm so glad you're back.”

Edgar looked over her at Jake. “Where did I go?”

“That's a long story,” Jake said.

“Katrina?”

“She's gone. You took care of her.”

Edgar gazed at the ceiling and swallowed. “I dreamed …”

“What?”

“I don't know. What about those
things?”

Maria straightened, her face wet with tears, which she wiped. “You mean the zonbies?”

Edgar cocked one eyebrow.

“I know all about them, big guy.” Maria put an arm around Jake. “Jake finished off the ones in NYC.”

Edgar narrowed his eyes. “Are you two an item now?”

Jake looked at Maria, allowing her to speak.

“It's complicated,” she said.

“How long have I been out?”

“You've been out of commission for almost a year,” Jake said.

Edgar's eyes widened. “What about Martin?”

Well, he joined a science fiction social-networking site run by a giant mutant octopus god, but I got him out of that.
“He's fine. So is Joyce. We'll call them as soon as you feel up to it.”

“Why the hell are we in Miami?”

“We'll get around to that.”

“I'm going to talk to Miriam,” Maria said. “You two catch up … in small doses.” She kissed Edgar's forehead. “I'm so glad to see you.” She hurried out of the room.

“She's not as tough as she acts,” Edgar said.

“She's tougher.”

Edgar swallowed. “Wherever I was, whatever happened to me … you came back for me, didn't you?”

Jake nodded. “But I couldn't have done it without Maria.”

With effort showing on his face, Edgar raised his right hand. “Thank you.”

Jake clasped his friend's hand. “You're welcome.”

Outside, the celebratory music continued.