Minutes to Burn

It took a few moments for her meaning to settle over them. Justin tapped his forehead with his curled knuckles.

"We should probably rinse off," Rex said. "More thoroughly."

"But there are two more out there," Cameron said. "We need a Plan B."

"I'm with Doc for once." Savage ran a finger across the back of his neck, pulling away grime and a strip of sunburnt skin. "My Plan B is to wash the fuck off."

Chapter 58

The water in Bahia Avispa was as clear as glass, showing off the exotic fish and curls of coral beneath. It slid up onto shore, hissing across the sand. The ocean was a brilliant aqua, magnificently bright.

The body of the sea lion pup that Cameron had touched lay near a cluster of rocks, collecting swirls of flies. They filed past it toward the water, Cameron pausing for a moment to look at its creamy brown fur. No one commented.

Justin waded out into the water, shattering the smooth surface with a dive and moving like a black dart through the waves.

The others waded into the ocean, rinsing off their faces. Tank's mouth stretched tight when the cool water hit his sunburnt cheeks. Even Rex's neck sported a red stripe, visible when he removed his Panama hat. Diego sat on the sand, poking his finger into the ghost crab holes.

To the west, the waves rolled in, hitting the blowholes off Punta Berlanga and spraying up in the air. Cameron watched the water spread and dissipate, and thought about the virus she might be taking into her lungs this very minute. Her thoughts moved to her pregnancy, and she quickly redirected them.

Watching her husband's shadow fade into the waves, she absentmind-edly walked along the wet sand. She was barefoot; one of the lessons she had learned in her first weeks of training was to get out of her boots at any opportunity-the longer she could avoid the combination of heat and humidity, the better her feet would fare through the course of a mis-sion. She walked along the ocean's edge, then stepped into the water. It was cool at first touch but quickly felt neutral, even warm.

The water rose above her calves, dropping to her ankles when the swell ebbed. Her line of sight was undistorted when she looked through the water. She saw the bottom with astonishing clarity-the schools of little fish with yellow streaks turning in perfect unison, sleek rocks half submerged in the sand, the lines of her own broad feet and toes.

As she waded out, the water moved in minute ripples, hairline fissures in the glass surface. The waves had again ceased suddenly, as if stilled by a magic hand. The water darkened her pants to the thighs, and then she dipped her hips under, unbuttoning her worn shirt and pulling it off. She dragged it through the water on the end of her fist like a mop.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned, expecting Justin. It was Szabla.

"Hey, girl," Szabla said.

"Hey." Cameron lowered herself beneath the surface up to her neck, feeling her nipples harden beneath her bra.

Szabla's black tank top was tight across her chest, as all her shirts were. "I've been a bit much here, I know." She sniffed hard, wrinkling her nose. "It's just, with Derek being a little loose around the edges… "

"No need to explain," Cameron said. "You've actually been right about things all along."

Szabla traced her fingertips along the surface of the water. "I know, but that doesn't sound as gracious."

Cameron laughed, dipping her head back and feeling the water in her hair.

"Your husband was worried about you, but he was afraid to bother you, so I came out to check."

"What's he worried about?"

Szabla shrugged. "He didn't say anything actually. I could just tell. You guys have always had a closeness that's not too hard to sense." She splashed some water over her face, rubbing her eyes, then squared and faced Cameron, studying her. "I thought you might be pregnant," she said. "But Justin said you weren't."

Cameron slicked back her wet hair. "He did, huh?"

She didn't meet Szabla's eyes, and Szabla didn't press the point. The water caressed their waists. They let it calm them.

Szabla skimmed the water with her hand. "You know something? All these years, I still don't know how you met."

"It's not so romantic."

"I figured."

"We overlapped for observation point training. A lot of deprivation crap to teach us to sit tight for long periods of time on lookouts. They starved us, dehydrated us, kept us up-you know the game. The final drill was we had to sit still in this room for thirty-six straight hours. No food, no standing up, no using the bathroom. If you had to go, you shit yourself right there. Anyone loses it, you start over. So we had to look out for everyone on the squad. You know, the teamwork bullshit. Around hour twenty, Justin starts to get edgy. Now, I knew him a little bit from around, thought he was decently good-looking and stuff. He is good-looking," she added, as if Szabla had disagreed with her.