Page 73 of Tough Call

“Good.” I squirted him with my water bottle. “You’re lazy.”

“Hey!” He sprayed me from his own bottle.

“Boys, boys.” Emilia laughed, rolling her eyes. “Stop playing and let’s get back to work.”

“You heard the lady.” I put my bottle down and pushed off. “Back to work!”

I didn’t hear what Mülly said after that.

But we did all get back to work.

CHAPTER 24

CONNOR

The next few days were going to be blisteringly hot in Sevilla, so Madars suggested taking a day trip to the coast. It would still be hot there, but definitely cooler than this far inland.

He had the perfect idea for a place to go, too.

“You’ll love Gibraltar,” he told me as he drove us onto the expressway. “It’s small, but there’s a lot to see.”

“Isn’t it just a big rock?”

He laughed. “I mean, yes. And you can do the whole place in a day. Easily. But it’s fun. And it won’t be so fucking hot.”

“Sold,” I said, because holy shit, I was game for something less hot than this. Shame we didn’t have ice time today—forget skating, I’d take his suggestion and just go lie facedown on the sheet until I stopped melting.

The drive was, unsurprisingly, gorgeous. For miles on end after we’d left the city, we wound through hills and farmlands, sometimes barely seeing any signs of civilization besides the strip of asphalt we were on. As we neared Gibraltar, things got more urbanized, and we even encountered a little bit of traffic.

I didn’t have to consult Madars or any signs to know we were getting close to Gibraltar, either. Though in my mind, the famous rock was just a big boulder, it turned out to be huge. Like, there was a town around and on its base, and even the largest buildings were dwarfed by the rock.

“Holy shit,” I said. “I never knew it was that big.”

Madars shot me a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and elbowed him. “Oh my God. Shut up.”

He snickered and elbowed me back as he continued following the expressway.

As we neared Gibraltar, Madars craned his neck a bit, then refocused on the road. “Doesn’t look like there’s any cruise ships right now. Hopefully that means it won’t be crowded.”

I didn’t see any cruise ships, though there was no shortage of other kinds of ships in the water. I gestured at the harbor and the dozen or so cargo ships and tankers. “What about those? I didn’t realize Gibraltar was a port.”

“It isn’t. Not for those.” He gestured toward them. “They’re waiting to get into Algeciras.”

I had no idea what that was, but it must’ve been the city on the other side of the water. And now that I looked closer, yeah, I could see what looked like some industrial ports.

Madars followed the signs toward Gibraltar. A few people were driving to the border, but he parked in the pay lot on the Spain side and we walked in, following a street that led toward the Rock. After a short distance, the road led us started across…

“Wait, is this an active runway?” I asked.

Madars nodded, not even slowing down. “They close the gates when there’s a plane coming in.”

I glanced up and down the runway as we crossed it. There was a jet parked at one end, but the runway was clear otherwise, and people walked across without batting an eye. Apparently I was the only one who thought it was a little weird, so I just shut my mouth and followed Madars.

I also followed his lead when he got us a taxi. I didn’t think that was necessary—the Rock was right there—but I didn’t ask questions.

Turned out the taxi drivers were the only authorized tour guides. Our driver, Roy, gave us a rundown of the Rock’s history as he drove us up on the narrow, winding road. He told us about the monkeys—Barbary Apes, actually—and how the Rock was used during World War II and other historical conflicts.