A stage off to one side featured a mariachi band and there were formal dancers in their beautiful, full skirts, performing traditional dances. The children were mimicking their own variations thereof, in a comical way.
Garcia led Nikki to a plush outdoor sofa in front of one of the many fireplaces with a roaring blaze in the hearth and said, “Sit. Prop your feet up.” She indicated the rattan-and-glass coffee table. “Give me a minute.”
Nikki settled in and…oh, sweet Lord, it was incredibly comfy. She could easily curl up and drift off to sleep. Except…the entertainment was fabulous and the promise of food was too enticing to pass up.
True to her word, Garcia was back in a flash and handed Nikki a heavy-duty plastic plate piled high with enchiladas, rice and beans.
“I could orgasm right this very second,” she muttered.
“I swear I won’t tell Castillo.”
Nikki laughed. And it felt good.
“You have a very quirky sense of humor,” she told the agent.
“He’s amusing to tease,” Garcia said. “Well… Challenging, at any rate. He never seems to respond.”
“You have to pick your battles and your moments appropriately with that man.”
“Without doubt.”
They both dug in. Garcia respected Nikki’s need to devour in peace. And every bite was more incredible than the next.
She was more than halfway through her meal when she finally asked, “Who are these people? And how many Mexican restaurants do they own?”
“Several,” Garcia said. “And they’re all mi familia.”
Nikki’s eyes popped. “Wow. That’s, uh… One hell of a big family.” There had to be over a hundred people gathered here.
“These are just the ones who could make it for tamale-making night. That’s what’s going on right now. We come together to make tamales for Christmas Eve. It’s a tradition.”
“And, of course, no tamale-assembling event is complete without a live band, dancers, decorations and more food than we can all eat. I mean… There is more, right?”
Garcia laughed. “Plenty more. This is, like, your first course and there are at least six others to follow.”
“Now, I truly am in heaven.”
Nikki continued to eat. Garcia disappeared again for a few minutes, then returned with three large red Solo cups in her hands.
And a bottle of tequila tucked under her arm.
She set everything out on the coffee table in front of Nikki. Two cups were full of beer. The third had limes in it and stacked shot glasses.
“You game?” Garcia asked.
Nikki hedged. “Isn’t my life sort of…you know. Still in danger?”
“Technically, no,” Garcia said with a shake of her head. “Otherwise, Castillo never would have let you off the campus and out of his sight. The terrorists are tracking your computer, not you. The beacon is in your laptop, Dr. Kane. Not on your person.”
“Nikki…remember?”
“Nikki.” Garcia poured a shot for each of them. They clinked rims, slammed, sucked on limes. Then Garcia added, “Check it. Over my left shoulder are my two cousins, Manuel and Jose. Both with the FBI. Over my right shoulder is Juan—CIA. With him is Pedro, who’s with Virginia PD. Now… Behind you, I have six cousins who are former military. One’s a Navy SEAL. Two uncles are with the FBI. Manning one of the smokers is my youngest brother Joey, who can’t decide between the FBI, the DIA or the CIA, though each are heavily recruiting him. Oh, and there are a couple of firefighters here, as well. In the event that’s your jam. Though, I’m guessing Castillo is still your—”
“I get your point.” Nikki sipped her beer. “Lots of gun-toting, highly trained and specialized peeps on your team.”
“So they’re going to be particularly hard on me when I’m fired. But here’s the thing, Nikki. As much as I hate how this has all affected you—and I truly, truly do hate it. I hope you believe in that. But the thing is… I’d do it all over again. I’d put that device in your laptop if given a second, a third, a fourth chance. Because I knew, in my soul, it would end up in Castillo’s hands. And that’s the absolute most critical outcome. I had to see the job through. No matter the cost. Ugh… That is… So fucked. I’m so sorry.”
While Nikki gaped, Garcia threw back another shot.