Consuela
“Secure,” the male voice in my ear crackles over the radio. “Move in.”
Sophia leads me forward down the hall. We stop at the bedroom door identified as Luisa’s holding cell. The townhouse in a quiet corner of Georgetown is four stories tall and this bedroom suite is on the second floor—it runs the length of the brick mansion.
I try the knob and find it locked. Sophia drops to her knees in front of the door and pulls a lock-picking kit from a pocket. She has it open within moments.
Sophia stands and her eyes find mine. The plan is for me to go in alone and bring Luisa out. According to our thermal imaging, she is alone in the room.
I raise my weapon and with my free hand ease the door open, moving quietly into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. At the far side, a canopy bed, the curtains tied to the posts, is bathed in yellow light from a crescent moon-shaped nightlight sitting on the side table. Curled up on the king-sized mattress is a child-sized figure.
There is a sitting area close to my entry point. Empty except for a dinner tray on the coffee table with the remnants of what looks like mac n’ cheese on it. There are three tall, front-facing windows to my left, their shades drawn. To my right, on the far side of the bed, there is a wall with another door, this one closed. On the blueprint it was listed as a bathroom with a dressing room that can also be accessed from the back stairs. I cross to it and turn the knob—the door is locked.
My eyes find the sleeping child again. Her chest rises with a deep breath. Relief tries to take hold, but I press it away. Not yet. We are not safe yet.
I cross the room quickly, my footsteps silenced by thick carpeting. I’m sure it’s Luisa but wait until her familiar face comes into focus.
“I’ve located baby bird,” I say quietly, fighting the emotions trying to bowl me over.
Luisa’s dark lashes are stark against her tawny skin. I pull off my gas mask, taking in a lungful of acrid air. It stings a little but nothing compared to what it will be like downstairs. We used tear gas to clear our passage and incapacitate the guards.
Reaching out, I touch Luisa’s shoulder. The urgency haunting me since her kidnapping settles a little in the girl’s presence, but it won’t be satisfied until she is back in Sonia’s arms.
I can’t believe—I cut off the thought. There is no time for guilt or regrets. There is no time for staring at Luisa’s chest as it rises and falls. Instead I scan the rest of her body, searching for injuries.
There are no obvious signs of trauma. Her clothing is new, I’ve never seen it before. Luisa’s hair is brushed and braided. Someone has cared for her—or allowed her to care for herself. Tension in my chest eases slightly.
“Luisa,” I whisper. She does not stir. I lean closer, saying her name louder. I shake her a little. Luisa’s head bobs but her eyelids do not lift.
She seems drugged.
Rage rises again, that infernal energy granting me clarity. Slipping my mask back on, I pull the one I brought for Luisa out of my bag and slip it over her face. She continues to breathe steadily, undisturbed by my presence or the face covering.
Slipping my arms under her, I heft Luisa’s weight. Her head lolls and I shift so that it rests against my breast. The warmth and weight of her is comforting.
Navigating back through the cavernous bedroom, I pause at the door. “Ready to move,” I say.
“Just a moment,” Sophia’s voice responds from the hallway.
I take a deep breath, standing a few feet from the door, facing it.
“Consuela.” The deep rumble of Richard’s voice makes me spin around. He is standing across the room, the door to the bathroom at his back. Richard is here. He will help us get out of this. With Richard here we are safe.
The old programming runs on its track until he takes a step towards me.
“Richard,” I whisper, my mask muffling his name.
Adrenaline rushes into my blood, recognizing the threat before my conscious mind can form the thought.
He stole her… I’d refused to believe it, but with Richard here in front of me, advancing toward us, I can no longer deny the truth.
“Stop,” I say, finding my voice.
He does, pausing in front of the tray of dirty dishes. “Listen,” Richard commands. “You need to cut all ties with Homeland Security and leave the city; best if you leave the country.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You’re not above the law,” I say, because it should be true.
His frown deepens and he takes another step toward me. “Don’t,” I warn. “I will shoot you.”
Richard’s lips twist into a half smile. Lips that kissed me, and promised to love me for our entire lives. Lips that lie. “You won’t shoot me.” His gaze softens. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Help me? You kidnapped Luisa. You,” I shake my head, impotent rage cutting off my voice.
“I kept you safe in my own way. This little diversion kept you out of harm’s way. And there was never any intention to harm Luisa.”
“Don’t do me any more favors,” I spit out. “You will pay for this,” I promise.
He laughs. Actually laughs at me. “You know what you’ve never understood, Consuela?” He does not wait for a reply. “Lady Justice is not blind. She is blindfolded. She is a prisoner; her scales are rigged, her promise a lie. There is no such thing as justice, Consuela. The law, our entire system, is designed for men like me. So, do us both a favor, and take the girl and leave.”
“You’re right,” I say quietly. He leans forward slightly, not taking a step but just bending to make out my softly spoken words. “It is impossible to create justice within an unjust system.”
He relaxes, just a little—a loosening around his eyes, nothing anyone who didn’t know him intimately would catch. “I’m on the right side of things, Consuela,” he says, his voice deep and soft, almost apologetic. “With the power this rigged system grants me, I’m doing the best I can for the most people. I can’t fix the way things are, but I can make the world as good as possible for as many people as possible.”
Richard shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, but there is a heavy sadness around him. He is a prisoner as much as Lady Justice…as much as me. “Please,” he says. “Just go, and don’t come back.”
“Everything okay? The hall is clear. Let’s get moving.” Sophia’s voice is insistent in my ear. I back up slowly, pushing the door behind me open, and, keeping my eyes on Richard, I step into the hall.
Luisa takes a deep breath and shifts, settling against me again. I use my foot to close the door. Richard’s gaze does not waver, his hands stay loose at his side, his eyes dark and unreadable.
As the latch clicks into place Sophia appears at my side. I don’t tell her Richard is in there—I don’t want his blood on my hands. A thought flashes through my mind like lightning across a hot summer sky: I will no longer allow that kind of power to rule me.