Against the Wind Read Free Page A

strictly true. You couldn’t live in Southern California, couldn’t spend the last five years working there without picking up a small amount of Spanish. She’d managed tounderstand about every fifth word Lizard Eyes had directed at her. Unfortunately they were mostly pronouns.
    The man grimaced and spat, the gun never wavering in its attention on her forehead.
“Gringa,”
he said slowly, furiously, and Maddy noticed with a distant amusement that his voice was high and light, almost like a girl’s. “Who are you and what are you doing here? This province belongs to the Third District of the Patronistas, the Fighters Against the Oppressor—it is not the best area for
turistas
. Why are you here?”
    Maddy steeled herself to ignore the gun, a difficult task considering its proximity. She could smell the hot metal, the gun oil, and she wrinkled her nose, trying to ignore the terrifying certainty that the well cared for gun saw frequent use. “My name is Madelyn Lambert. I’m Samuel Lambert’s daughter, and I’ve come to see my father.”
    Lizard Eyes stared at her, unblinking, unbelieving. “A
norteamericana,”
he said finally in disgust. “I should have known.” He pulled the gun away, and Maddy breathed a sigh of relief. She noticed that her hands were still clenching the steering wheel, and slowly, deliberately she relaxed her deathgrip.
    “The Patronistas have no wish to antagonize the United States or any of its citizens who are foolish enough to enter a war zone without protection.”
    “I thought the fighting was in the south.”
    Lizard Eyes shrugged. “The fighting is all over San Pablo. There is no place that is untouched.” Those eyes narrowed as they swept over her hot, dusty face. “You do not look like El Patrón.”
    “El Patrón?” Maddy echoed, mystified for a moment. “Oh, you mean Samuel. No, I’m supposed to take after my great-grandmother. She was French, and I …” Her voice trailed off as she recognized the inanity of the conversation.Why in the world would this guerilla warrior want to know about her French grandmother? “Anyway,” she said lamely, “he
is
my father, I assure you.”
    Lizard Eyes shrugged. “It is of no importance. One lone
gringa
cannot cause much trouble. You are alone?” Those lizard like eyes swept back into the underbrush from whence the battered little Toyota had come. “I am surprised Ortega didn’t try to stop you.”
    Maddy was conscious of a sudden guilty start. “Ortega?”
    “Head of
el presidente’s
Secret Interrogation Squad for the Subjugation of Insurgents.”
    “I thought he was Minister of Agriculture,” Maddy said, and then could have taken the gun out of his hand and shot herself for her stupidity.
    Those lizardlike eyes narrowed and a sudden, alarmingly affable smile split his darkly tanned face. It was then that Maddy realized how very young her fierce young soldier was—probably no more than twenty-one or twenty-two. And all the more deadly because of his extreme youth. “General Ortega is a friend of yours, eh? And I suppose he’s accompanied you, at a safe distance.”
    “He—he met me at the airport,” Maddy stammered, flustered. “He offered me a car and driver but I told him no.”
    “Doubtless you promised to let him know once you safely arrived,” Lizard Eyes offered smoothly.
    “He knows how to get here on his own, I have no doubt. He doesn’t need my help.”
    Her captor shrugged. “Who is to say? General Ortega has a reputation for making the most of his opportunities. He also has a reputation for the ladies.” The sweep of those cold brown eyes was insultingly direct. “Well,
gringa
, you are not my problem. Whether El Patrón isyour father or not is none of my concern. Though he has never once mentioned a family back in the United States. But it will be up to Murphy to decide what to do with you.”
    The name crackled along Maddy’s nerve endings like static electricity, and it was all she could do to