Cella wedged into the passenger seat with her daughter on her lap, still groggy. The child was long but thin, with a mop of thick black hair. Cella folded her up in her arms as best as she could.
“You can keep the ransom,” Pearce said. Thirty-thousand euros was a lot of money, but it wasn’t his.
“It’s not ransom. It’s my trust fund money. My father sends it to me when there is a need among the people.”
“How is your father these days?”
She ignored the question. “Did you bring the medical supplies as well?”
“It’s all there.”
The girl moaned.
“She okay?”
Cella brushed the girl’s hair away from her face. Pearce glanced at her. She was a pretty young girl on the verge of a ferocious beauty. In a few years she’d be her mother’s twin.
“She’s waking up a little, which is good. But I don’t want her to be completely awake, at least not until you’re in the air.”
“Why not?”
“She is… ostinato. Like a mule.” Cella grinned. “Like you.”
“Me? More like you.”
The Toyota bounced along. Pearce checked the fuel gauge. Nearly empty. The Aviocar filled the windshield.
“What’s her name?”
“Dorotea, after my mother.”
“How old is she?”
Pearce thought she looked six years old, maybe seven. He wasn’t sure.
He tapped the brakes and brought the Hilux to an easy stop next to the open cargo door. The motors were loud even though the props were barely spinning. Early jumped off the back and opened Cella’s door as Pearce climbed up into the Aviocar.
Early took the girl in his big arms and easily lifted her up, even with the sling on. She was still mostly passed out, but her eyebrows knitted into a frown. He carried her to Pearce and raised her up. “Careful with this sack of potatoes.”
Pearce took her up, careful not to bang her head on the door. Cella climbed in after her. Early followed.
“Put her next to me so I can keep an eye on her,” Judy said.
Pearce carried the girl to the cockpit and set her in the copilot’s seat, then kneeled down and strapped her in. She yawned. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment. Something about them. Beautiful.
The little girl was clearly confused by her surroundings. Maybe even thought she was in a dream. She looked around. Saw Pearce’s face. She gazed at him, smiled a little, then passed back out.
“Here is how you can reach my father,” Cella said, handing Judy an envelope.
“Is he expecting her?” Judy asked.
“All her life,” Cella said. “Now he gets his wish.”
Pearce stood. “Call ahead to Bert Holliday and give him a heads-up on the new situation. She’s going to need papers at the very least. He’ll help you with the girl’s grandfather, too, I’m sure.”
“Will do, boss. Soon as I’m in the air.”
“No. Maintain radio silence until you land, then radio us a thumbs-up so we know you’re okay,” Pearce said. “Don’t forget, you’re a target with that IFF disabled.”
“What are you talking about? Aren’t you coming with me?” Judy asked, but she heard the resolve in his voice.
“Brother, we’re a lost cause out here,” Early said.
“Is there any other kind?” Pearce clapped Early on his good shoulder. “Besides, weren’t you the one who always used to ask me, ‘Who wants to live forever?’?”
“I was young and stupid back then.”
“Well, you’re not young anymore.”
“Troy, this is serious. There’s no reason for you to risk your life for Mossa,” Cella said. She laid her fine-boned hand on his forearm.
“I’m not risking anything for Mossa,” Pearce said. “I don’t even know who the hell he is. But I’m not leaving my friends high and dry.”
Early’s shoulder mic crackled. “We have company coming, Mr. Early.” It was Mossa, calling from the village.
Early responded. “Heading back your way now.”
“Good luck, you guys,” Judy said. She started to turn for the cockpit door, but stopped and threw her arms around Pearce’s neck. “You and Mike keep your heads down, okay?”
“You know it.”
Judy nodded and headed for the cockpit.
Mike jumped out of the cargo door and Cella scrambled out right behind him, but Pearce headed to the back of the cargo area. He fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked a hidden door in the floor plate, then snatched up two large black Pelican storage cases by the handles. It was the South African load he couldn’t drop off earlier. Nothing like real-world testing, he thought to himself. Might have to charge them extra for the service.
Pearce tossed the cases out the door and dropped to the ground. He shut the cargo door behind him as sand kicked up in their faces from the revving engines, louder by the second. Early was already back in the pickup bed and wrapping the olive-drab veil back around his face for the ride back.
“Don’t worry. Judy’s the best pilot I know,” Pearce said to Cella, shouting above the rising noise as he tossed the cases into the back of the truck.
Cella wiped her eyes with the flat of her hand and fell into the passenger seat.
Pearce yanked open the driver’s door, and then it hit him. He glanced back at the plane, gaining speed.
The girl’s eyes were blue, like clear topaz. Just like Cella’s.
Blue. Just like his.
CELLA & TROY
2009
28
Altis Belém Hotel
Lisbon, Portugal
21 August
The sun warmed Pearce’s face as he savored the last sip of vintage Porto on the terrace after dinner. He normally didn’t take sweet liquor, but the waiter swore it was from the finest Port house in the country from the best grapes and choice aguardente. It was a nice way to watch the sunset as fingers of light glinted through the sails of the yachts anchored across the promenade. It was his first trip to Portugal, so he indulged in the local menu as was his custom. Dinner consisted of caldo verde soup and a plate of char-grilled sardines, fresh from the Atlantic.
The meeting with the Irishman had gone well. It would be a lucrative contract with a UN-certified NGO, a first for his company. Pearce wanted to build up the non-security side of his business, and this was the next logical step in that direction. Aerial survey work over Indonesia would be relatively easy and virtually riskless. Both the Indonesian government and UN climate-change scientists were interested in cataloguing biomass burnings and drought conditions on the island of Sumatra. It would be a five-year renewable contract, with additional drone flight training and supervisory services fees tacked on for a bonus.
“Troy?”
Pearce turned around. He couldn’t believe it. He stood.
“Cella.”
Her face broke into a brilliant smile. She threw her arms around him and hugged him hard. Pearce hesitated. The last time he’d seen her was six years ago in Milan, bolting angrily out the door. His joy at seeing her now overwhelmed the bitter memory. He hugged her back.
“You’re alive,” she whispered in his ear. She finally let go, and held him at arm’s length. “It’s so good to see you.” She touched the side of his face. “No beard. Good. You have such a nice face.” She squinted. “A few more scars, I see. But small.”