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Daniela dropped them at a small hotel after breakfast at one of the tourist shops. Daniela’s money for the meal was refused.
“It is run by a friend,” she’d explained.
The same was true at the hotel—a friend who had eyed them as if they were DEA agents and he might sneak up and kill them in their sleep. It wasn’t their rifles; it was them. Without Daniela vouching for their safety, Tanya might have tried fighting her way out here and now.
Tanya tried a smile, but it didn’t make any difference. She supposed that was fair, she didn’t feel it much inside either. Exhaustion rippled through her system in indeterminate waves that threatened to take out her knees as they ascended the narrow stone stairs to the second floor. There was no third floor.
Multiple near-death experiences on too l
