White Dawn: A Military Romantic Suspense Novel by Tracy Cooper-Posey Page B

replied.
    “About fifteen million, new,” Nick said
calmly. “These are used and I can probably get them for about eight
million each. I’ll use your money to put a goodwill deposit on
them. About five million for the three, as we already have them in
our possession. The rest will be used for equipment and
supplies.”
    “I had no idea war was so freaking
expensive,” Joshua muttered. He glanced at his watch. “How soon do
you need it?”
    “Today,” Nick said flatly. “Olivia and I
have been shopping all day. The bill is due to be paid by end of
business.”
    “There goes my sleep for the next twelve
hours,” Joshua said philosophically. He almost sounded
cheerful.

Chapter Seven
    Carmen couldn’t sleep. She rested on top of her
sleeping bag, under the mosquito net that Ledo had found at the
markets. He had bartered for a dozen of the nets, in exchange for
his watch, which he saw as a win-win. “The watch loses time. Ten
minutes every day. It was a good deal.”
    The net allowed Carmen to sleep where
the air could reach her, rather than wrapping herself in the
stifling bag, although the net itself seemed to halt some of the
cooler flow. Everyone else in the camp was asleep, for the fire had
burned low and the refectory was silent except for the occasional
pop of embers.
    This was the third night after their
return from Valle Leñosa. Carmen hadn’t seen Garrett since he had
halted the Jeep at the back of the monastery, swung his long legs
out and stalked off into the building. He had, she supposed, been
working in the hospital. But he had spared a thought for the war
effort, for the next day after their return, he sent Archie and
Ledo out to obtain a radio transmitter. They had returned the day
after that, a transmitter in their backpack.
    Garrett had also remembered Nemesis’
demand that the next shipment of silver had to be stopped. Llora
taped to the wall next to the kitchen area a schedule of sentry
duty shifts for the next week. Two people at a time, to watch the
rail line. Efraín and Ismael had wiped their mouths of food and
headed for the tracks immediately.
    The night of their return from the
meeting with Nemesis, Carmen had found herself unaccountably
sleepy, to the point where she couldn’t stay sitting up at the
fire. Her head kept falling forward as she drifted off to sleep
even though it was barely eight in the evening.
    Llora and Angelo had helped her to her
sleeping bag and arranged the net over her, but Carmen didn’t
remember that. She only realized the net was there when she woke up
six hours later. She woke with a start, panic threading hot slivers
through her blood and making her heart lurch.
    It was two in the morning and the camp
was as still as it was now. She had been disoriented, that first
night. She barely remembered being helped to her bed. She rested,
breathing heavily, her heart hurrying along as she tried to calm
herself. Had she been dreaming?
    But the snatches of images and emotions
that were lingering in her mind were from the café. The sense of
inevitable capture, that her fate was sealed and there was nothing
she could do to halt it, seemed to lie over her like a pall. But
she was here and safe.
    She couldn’t stop thinking about the
near-miss, about how it might have gone horribly wrong, if not for
Garrett’s quick thinking. And she would shiver. She tried to
deliberately clear her mind and think of something else. Something
pleasant that would soothe her back into sleep, but the moments
from the café kept crowding out anything she tried to recall.
    “Spineless woman!” she railed at
herself. “Get a grip, for heaven’s sake!”
    If the memory was going to haunt her,
then she would use it. She would ruthlessly analyze every second of
it, looking for alternative actions, better reactions. What could
she learn from this?
    So she settled herself back onto her bag
and considered each action and reaction that had happened, in their
correct order, from the moment