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She chuckled. “Sound great. Just put it on flash drive, stick it in my ear, and the top-secret code from Buck Technologies will just download into my brain.”

“If I wanted to, I could put this in terms even Javier could have understood.”

“Do you think it’s important for me to know?” she asked.

“I do,” he replied.

“Okay. Then I’ll listen. But only if you do me a favor.”

“What?”

“I’m freezing over here. Will you sit next to me?”

Their hands were bound behind their backs, but Liu had left their feet unchained. “Sure,” he said.

Patrick pushed himself up, fighting to keep his balance in the moving truck as he crossed to Olga’s side. He fell against the stacked bags of rice and, with his back to the wall, slid down to settle in beside her.

“How’s that?” he asked.

She moved a little closer. “Better.”

It was better, and Patrick would have liked to put his arm around her, but for the bindings on his wrist.

“So,” he said, “let me tell you how something called Project Naïveté evolved into the worst thing in technology since therealCode Six.”

Chapter 54

Kate took her morning coffee on the balcony to her room at the InterContinental Cali. The rain had stopped overnight, and she had a clear view of the Andes.

Cali is surrounded in natural beauty, nestled in the Cauca Valley between the mighty Farallones de Cali mountain range and the Cauca River. Rough terrain challenged rock climbers and mountain bikers from across the globe. Miles of hiking trails and riverbanks offered an up-close glimpse of more species of flora and birds than most people would see in a lifetime. For more than half a century, however, it was akin to the biblical “valley of the shadow of death,” a stronghold for leftist guerrillas, drug dealers, and right-wing paramilitary groups. Kate wondered how many families, over the decades, had taken a room in Cali, a suitcase full of money on the bed, counting the hours until some criminal who claimed to have a worthy cause would bring a loved one down from the mountains for the most dangerous part of any kidnapping: the ever-problematic “exchange.”

“You sleep okay?” asked Enrique. He’d spent the night in the adjoining room.

“Not really,” she said.

Enrique pulled up the other patio chair and sat facing the aluminum railing, sharing Kate’s mountain view.

“I’ve been thinking about the exchange,” he said.

“I have a plan.”

“I’d love to hear it.”

“You will. When I’m ready,” she said.

He rested his muscular forearms on his thighs, leaning forward so that he could catch more than a sideways glance of Kate.

“Your father chose me for a reason,” he said. “I have experience in these things. I negotiated with terrorists for the release of my own interpreter in Kabul.”

“And it worked out okay?” she asked, hopeful.

He looked away in silence.

“I’m sorry,” said Kate. “I wasn’t asking to be mean.”

“It’s all right. I have some success stories, as well. Interpreters were a different thing altogether. They were seen as the worst kind of traitors.”

“Like a tech engineer who gives up company secrets?”