had been blindfolded for the critical last leg of the journey. Brodie thought back to how Mercer had spared Al Simpson, and how that act of mercy led directly to the CID being on his tail. And now this, letting a witness who spoke perfect English return to the Hen House where he’d already been spotted, instead of keeping her prisoner—or killing her. Señor Kyle must have really liked her. Which was too bad for him, because this señorita was going to lead Brodie and Taylor right to him. You fucked up, Captain. They all do in the end.
Brodie said, “I need more description of the village you flew into.”
She seemed annoyed or impatient, but replied, “It was just this little place with huts… but it had this tourist guesthouse. Only a few people. I think the village is just for tourists, but there was no tourists so it was just us and the natives.”
“What were the huts made out of?”
Carmen thought a moment. “Stone or mud or some shit.”
“Color?”
Carmen thought. “Yellow, I think. Maybe like they were painted.”
“Any churches? Stores?”
She shook her head, then lit another cigarette and glanced again at the door. “We done?”
“Almost. Tell me about the trip down the river.”
“I was blindfolded.”
“Try harder.”
Carmen shot him a look, then thought for a moment. “There was a lot of turns in the river. It took maybe an hour? Maybe longer.”
“Were you going upriver or downriver? With the flow or against it?”
“Fuck, man, I don’t know.”
“You said the boat had a motor. Was the motor running the whole time?”
Carmen considered this. “Sí. Almost the whole time.”
Brodie nodded. They were probably going against the current. “When the boat stopped, did you get out on the left bank or the right bank?”
Carmen thought. “Right.”
“And how long was the walk from the river to the camp?”
“I told you, maybe fifteen minutes.”
“Was there a path?”
“There was fucking trees.”
“Palms? Flowering plants?”
“There was palm trees in the grassland, but when we go in the jungle I don’t see them. I see lot of big trees, a lot of… like, vines and some nice flowers, all different colors.”
“What else did you see?”
“Nothing.”
“Think.”
She thought for a minute. “Okay, yeah. So there was, like, a little stream close by where there was no trees, and I could see there was another one of those flat mountains.”
“Maybe it was the same mountain.”
She shook her head. “This one was different. It was more green, trees up the side. Was hard to tell how far away it was because it was so big.”
“Did anyone say why these men were in this camp? What they were training for?”
Carmen looked at him. “They were training to kill people.”
It sounded like Carmen needed an education in the five W’s. Brodie asked, “Who were they training to kill, and why? Did Señor Kyle talk about it?”
She shook her head. “He don’t talk to me about the camp.”
“Did you ask him? Or ask anyone?”
“I don’t want to know.”
Right. The less you know, the better. But Carmen had asked Carlo and the bartender questions about Señor Kyle, and about Señor Kyle’s guest at the Hen House. So Carmen was the curious type, and Brodie was sure she knew more than she was telling. He was also sure that Carmen had been honest with him so far, and she wasn’t making stuff up for the money. If he had ten more minutes with her, he could get the last piece of the puzzle: What was Kyle Mercer training for in that camp? But time had run out. So he’d have to answer that question himself when he found the camp, and found Captain Mercer.
Meanwhile, he now had some Intel—a city, Ciudad Bolívar, a tourist village, a boat trip upriver, and some distinct topographical features—and that might be enough to get Kyle Mercer’s general location.
Brodie stood. “Gracias, señorita. You’ve been very helpful.” He handed her the five hundred dollars and added another hundred to it. “For your retirement fund.”
Carmen looked at the bills, stood, then shoved the cash in the drawer of the night table. She stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray and turned to Brodie. “I think Señor Kyle is not really your amigo.”
“Correct,” said Brodie. “He is not.”
“You gonna kill him? That why the Army sent you?”
“I’m just going to talk to him.”
Carmen thought that was funny. “Good luck. He’s a crazy guy. But maybe all you American soldiers are crazy.”
“Maybe.” Brodie walked over to the wall and took a couple more lengths of bondage rope from