They would find out soon enough.
Thanks to his hi-tech goggles, Payne saw the cadets long before he was in range of their flashlights or guns. Hustling to his left, he ducked behind a drainage pipe that smelled like old diapers. Meanwhile, Jones darted to his right, positioning himself next to a support beam that was ravaged with rust. In a narrow tunnel, both men knew they would be easy targets if the LED incapacitator didn’t work, yet they weren’t the least bit worried about failure. As Jones waited in the darkness, he had to stifle a yawn.
‘So,’ he whispered to Payne, ‘where do you want to eat? How about that new place at Station Square?’
‘Be quiet! They’re coming.’
‘I know they’re coming. That means this will be over soon and we can get something to eat. Don’t ask me why, but I’m craving Chinese.’
‘Don’t mess with me, Jonesy. This is important.’
Jones winced at the nickname. It was one he couldn’t stand. ‘Why did you call me that?’
‘You know how I feel about talking.’
‘You hate it during a mission.’
‘That’s right, Jonesy.’
Jones growled in the darkness. ‘Fine! I’ll shut up. But once we’re done here, we’re getting Chinese — and you’re paying for it!’
Payne grinned in victory. He had already promised to buy dinner in exchange for Jones’s time and expertise, so the agreement didn’t cost him anything extra. Furthermore, the deal assured his friend’s full cooperation for the next few minutes. Not that he was actually concerned. Jones had a history of goofing around until the last possible second, but Payne knew that when it was time for business, Jones would flip a mental switch and kick some serious ass.
And that time was now.
Shaped like a flashlight with an oversized head, the LED incapacitator had a maximum range of thirty feet. Positioned on both sides of the tunnel, Payne and Jones waited in the darkness until all of the cadets were within striking distance, then the duo turned on their devices. What happened next was like something out of a science fiction movie. A rapid burst of bright, flashing lights blinded the cadets with a series of coloured pulses, while a high-pitched squeal filled the tunnel with a torturous sound that didn’t bother Payne or Jones because they were behind it. The five targets instantly dropped their rifles and fell to their knees as they tried to cover their eyes and ears at the same time. When that didn’t work, things got progressively worse.
The second cadet was the first one to get sick. It started with nausea, then quickly turned to projectile vomiting that coated the back of the lead cadet. After that, it looked like a frat party gone wrong. One college student after another, puking up whatever they’d eaten in the past six hours: spaghetti, Doritos and little bits of burger. Payne felt so bad for them that he turned off his device after only ten seconds of use and told Jones to do the same.
But Jones, who’d heard some of the cadets’ comments about his age, ignored the order until he’d kicked away their weapons, officially ending the drill. He punctuated his victory by blowing on the tip of the device like a gunslinger, then tucking it into an imaginary holster. ‘Call me crazy, but I think this sucker works.’
Payne nodded. ‘I think you’re right.’
‘Let’s find out for sure.’ With his foot, Jones nudged one of the cadets, who was sprawled on the tunnel floor. ‘Hey, kid, what do you think? Does the device work?’
The cadet groaned, then vomited again.
Payne scrunched up his face in disgust. ‘I think that’s a yes.’
‘Definitely a yes,’ said Jones, who was already thinking about his next meal.
Blessed with an iron stomach, he studied the half-digested buffet that coated the tunnel walls, as if reading a menu. One entrée in particular caught his eye. ‘You know what? I think I changed my mind about dinner. Forget the beef and broccoli. Let’s get pasta instead.’
5
Maria showered and changed into a sundress before heading downstairs to meet her new employer, an American scholar named Terrence Hamilton. Knowing little about him except his work in the field of anthropology, she was a bit nervous and more than a little curious. They were scheduled to meet for drinks at Isla Contoy, a casual poolside restaurant at the Fiesta Americana, where he had promised to explain why she’d been summoned to Cancún on such short notice. The details he’d given over the phone had been vague at best, but she’d been willing to play along because of his sterling reputation and the first-class accommodation he’d arranged. Not to mention the tropical location of their meeting. For Maria, that had been the clincher.
When she walked out of the rear entrance of the lobby and saw the view, she knew she had chosen wisely. Running parallel to the beach was a lagoon-style pool that stretched as far as the eye could see. Bisected by an arched bridge that led towards the turquoise waters of the Gulf, the pool was surrounded by swaying palms, white lounge chairs and multiple tiki bars. Guests in various states of undress relaxed in the water and around the stone deck, soaking up the last rays of the day as the sun inched across the sky, casting a golden hue over the entire resort.
The temperature was in the low 70s, but felt cooler thanks to a gentle breeze that smelled like the sea. For Maria, the scent stirred up childhood memories of a family vacation on the Mediterranean. Though it had happened a lifetime ago, she could remember it clearly. She was playing with her brothers near the water’s edge while her parents looked on from a picnic blanket, where they were eating cheese and drinking wine. There was no screaming. Or crying. Or drama of any kind. Nothing but fun, love and laughter. It was a stark contrast to the way things became in the years prior to her father’s murder.
‘Excuse me,’ said a voice from behind.
Maria blinked a few times, then turned around, fully expecting to see her new boss. Instead, it was a member of the hotel staff, who was dressed in a tropical shirt and khaki pants. He had a broad, flat nose and hair the colour of coal. A beach towel was draped over his left shoulder.
He smiled warmly. ‘You are Maria, no?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m Maria.’
‘I thought it was you, but I wasn’t sure. You were wearing different clothes earlier,’ he said with a thick accent. ‘My name is Carlos. I am a friend of Ernesto.’
‘Nice to meet you, Carlos.’
‘Nice to meet you, too. I like meeting pretty women, and you are muy bonita.’
Suddenly uncomfortable, Maria thanked him for the compliment while brushing the hair out of her eyes. It was a nervous tic she had developed as a schoolgirl. ‘Did you need something, Carlos? Or did you just want to say hello?’
‘Do you have a mobile?’ he asked.
She took a deep breath, worried that Carlos was about to ask for her number. How in the world was she supposed to relax if the staff kept asking her out? ‘Of course I do. Why?’
Carlos pointed at the scenery. ‘This is perfect time for photo. If you like, I can take picture with phone. Beautiful woman with beautiful view. Make all your friends jealous.’
Maria flushed with guilt. She had been this close to brushing off Carlos, yet all he’d wanted to do was help. Obviously her people-reading skills had suffered from her recent lack of social interaction. ‘Actually, that would be great. Thanks for offering.’
‘No problemo.’
Using her cell phone, Carlos took pictures of her from three different angles, making sure her smile was perfect before he snapped each one. When he was done, she thanked him with a quick hug, which he considered far more rewarding than a handful of pesos. The love-struck grin on his face was proof of that. Afterwards, she asked for directions to the restaurant. He pointed to the open-air structure between the beach and pool and explained how to get there.