“What number is this?” I asked as I stretched out on the poolside chair. My kit sat next to me, wrapped up in a white towel.
“Does it matter?” the female voice over comms said.
Of course it mattered. I’d been stuck in Cuba for almost eighteen months tracking a drug lord. It sounds like a vacation, but it’s not. Cuba is a horrible place to live. Bottled water, cold showers, questionable food, and spotty power at the house I lived in. Work was supposed to be interesting. Not tedious and soul crushing boredom.
The man we were tracking, Juan Carlos Lopez the fifth, yeah, somebody named their kid that way. But this man was importing fentanyl from China by the boatload and sending to America. He had over two dozen connections which he funneled it through.
Or so the intel said.
Our problem was we couldn’t catch him in the act. In other words, we had no concrete proof. And the DOJ wants hard evidence before they launch the big boys to come wrap him up.
Juan Carlos was an older man, got a degree in business from University of Maryland, and didn’t have any bodyguards or security. On first glance he appeared as a young grandpa, had his kids over for dinner every Sunday, and had welcomed two grand kids in the past year. He owned two fishing boats and a small store.
We’d tapped his phone, emails, and had been watching him for so long that I knew what drink he’d order depending on his mood.
He hated coffee and preferred tomato juice in the morning. He wore Gucci sandals but had shorts that were frayed and starting to tear.
His wife was the clue. Went to the spa twice a week, wore a wedding ring that would take me twenty years to pay off, and loved going on trips.
My lounge chair creaked as I shifted. It was just as tired as I was with the bands yellowing from exposure to the sun. Twenty eight years old and thinking about retiring. I must be nuts.
I born in Hawaii, my dad Hawaiian and my mom Caucasian. So I ended up looking like a light skinned Cuban. Go figure.
“Enjoying the pool?” Tevon’s voice was laced with sarcasm.
“How’s the hotel room,” I replied.
“A/C is working today, so it’s pretty sweet. Hey, who’s the two goons walking up the steps?” Tevon’s tone changed to serious.
“I don’t know. Give me a moment,” Sarah’s voice replied.
It took every bit of my self control not to react.
Then the moments stretched out, long and uncomfortable. Nothing at the pool suddenly mattered except Juan Carlos who was sitting at the tables eating breakfast.
I wanted to leap up and intercept them. New faces could mean anything. But around here it usually meant trouble. I was also worried because my position gave me perfect view of my target, but the stairs were hidden around bushes and palm trees.
There were a few young women splashing in the pool—probably college students on vacation. Two elderly couples that always came on Tuesday’s for breakfast. A newlywed couple about ten chairs down from me, and two servants tending to the pool. It was as uncrowded as it could get.
A perfect time to do a hit.
“Give me something,” I hissed.
“Sunburn,” Sarah said slowly and loudly.
The mission was compromised.
The worst thing an operative can hear. I needed to leave, immediately, but I didn’t, and I don’t know why. Something gripped me.
The two men appeared in my vision and went straight for Juan Carlos. I knew from their behavior that they were on a mission, and I was helpless to stop them.
I saw one of the men reach into his belt, but he was turned away from me, and in the next moment Juan Carlos slumped over. But there was no gunshot.
That’s when everyone at the pool pulled out a gun and shot the two men. I heard swearing, exclamations, and angry shouting.
My eyes were on Juan Carlos. He was on the ground, twitching a little, a small red tailed dart stuck in his chest.
“What was that!” Tevon nearly screamed into the comms.
I couldn’t respond. My years of training kicked in and I grabbed my kit and ran for Juan Carlos. If he died, all our work was for nothing. A new drug lord would step in. People would die.
I pushed people out of the way and dropped down next to him, checking pulse, feeling breathing.
I had a few things in my kit for various drug overdose treatments. I had a 12.5% chance of picking the right one, so I grabbed a Naloxone injection and nasal spray I felt would work and discretely jabbed him and turned him on his left side where I put the spray up his nose. It would possibly save him, but he needed to get to a hospital in twenty minutes.
Within moments hotel staff appeared with a stretcher and whisked him away. I took that moment to wrap my kit and move to the exit. But the older couples met me, with pistols.
“Vienes con nosotros.”
They grabbed me, took my kit, and shoved me into the break room at the hotel. One of the men left while the other three guarded me.
I knew I was in the worst situation possible. For an undercover agent, getting captured was the number one thing not to let happen, and I literally walked into this. I kicked myself for being so stupid trying to save Juan Carlos. They’d think I was the backup assassin and kill me.
After what felt like an hour, a man I’d never seen before walked into the room. He had a deep suntan, head shaved, one gold ring on his right hand. He had all the other people I had seen at the pool and I saw my mistake immediately. The whole hotel was a front and everyone was a body guard.
I suddenly saw the family resemblance in the man. It was Juan Carlos’ brother.
“Who are you?” the man growled.
I stared at the crowd of people and told the biggest lie of my life. One that I had no right to utter past my lips.
“I’m here for a deal.”
I watched him nod slowly. A sign I better keep talking.
“I need someone with the ability to ship weapons for me and I heard you have clean channels for that.”
“Perhaps. It depends on the weapons.”
“Rifles and pistols. Ammunition. Some drones.”
No one ever tells you that when you’re standing in front of a group of people who all have guns, you have to fight really hard not to piss yourself. I could feel the sweat running down my back.
“Where?”
“Some places in Mexico.”
The man blew out a breath. My deal was falling apart.
“That is hard place to get into unless you have people,” a wide grin broke across his face. “And we have people there.”
The door opened and a man in a hotel uniform walked in, whispering in the man’s ear.
“I’m sorry, your name is?” I began.
“Pepe. Juan Carlos is my brother. And I just hear that he survived the attack, and from the look of things, you saved him.”
“Well, I’m an expert in weapons. I recognized the poison dart and gave him the antidote.”
I hope that lie sticks.
“Hmm,” Pepe grunted.
He gestured to the table and we both sat down. He waved off the crowd and they all started filtering out the door, except the old couples.
“They are the best body guards one could hope for. No one ever suspects.”
“They fooled me,” I agree.
“Tell me more about these weapons.”
This was literally calling my bluff. I had to make up some believable stuff.
“My customers need security and that’s what I provide.”
“Do these drones drop bombs?” Pepe had a concerned look on his face.
“No, no. Just cameras. I don’t deal in explosives.”
Pepe regarded me for a moment.
“I want samples before I decide.”
Oh boy. Bluff called.
“When and where?” I said.
“Here. Tonight. Seven.”
That’s impossible. How am I going to get some weapons and a drone in ten hours?
“Done.”
“I hope this works out for you,” Pepe didn’t smile.
The bodyguards walked me out. I hailed a taxi and had him take me downtown. I bounced between two more taxis and then went to another hotel where I went out the back into the trunk of a car driven by Tevon. The armrest was down so that I could see into the front seat.
“I can’t believe you made it out,” Tevon muttered. “Sarah thinks our radio is compromised.”
“Is that why you made me suffer through an hour of radio silence?” I said.
“We’re burned either way. We’ll get you on a flight out of Cuba tonight and get you reassigned to something in Japan.”
I rode in silence as my mind chewed over everything.
“Where can we get some weapons to sell to them?” My tone serious.
“You can’t be serious!” Tevon’s blood veins popped out on his neck. “Your mission was surveillance. You’re nothing but a–you’re dead if you go back. We have no backup. We’re ghosts. Eyes only.”
“There was something in the way he spoke to me,” I said quietly. “I think he’s sincere. I think it’s worth the risk.”
Tevon shook his head and we rode in silence until we reached the safe house and he pulled into the small garage and closed the door.
I climbed out of the trunk after he opened it and we were met by Sarah holding an MP5 leveled at us.
“Late,” she said.
“I had to shake two tails,” I replied. “They’re good at what they do. I never suspected the older couples to be bodyguards.”
“While you were joyriding I watched my drone footage. The men passed through security without any problems. This makes me believe the gun was made of plastic and separated into different parts. To security it would have looked like a vape pen.”
“It made no noise,” I said, “I only saw Juan Carlos fall over and then everyone was shooting.”
“I saw that. I thought our comms were compromised,” she added.
“We’ve played it well. Now we need to get you on a flight out of here. You’re the only one known to them,” Tevon said.
“Yes, but what if we can play this out?” I asked.
“No. Not doing. Recon only,” Sarah shook her head. “You’re burned. It’s over.”
“First rule of a CIA agent is survival. You went way outside what you’re supposed to do,” Tevon grabbed me by the shoulder.
But I was thinking, like my parents taught me, staying calm in the panic, forcing my brain to work, to sift information, and to plan.
“The embassy has some guns.”
I watched Tevon and Sarah look at each other.
“C’mon, it’s one phone call to our handler. If he can’t do it, then I’ll fly. I’ll be in Japan eating sushi in a week.”
I watched Tevon wrinkle his brow and Sarah grind her jaw. I’d been with them long enough to know that they thought it was an okay idea, but they were hoping the answer from our superiors would be a no.
One phone call later I had my yes, and my knees started shaking. Deep down I was hoping my stupid idea would be rejected. By all the rules that we play by, I should be on a flight to Mexico in a few hours. Instead, I waited for Tevon and Sarah to make a shopping run to the US embassy and get some guns. While I waited I arranged for a rental truck and went over what I was going to say at least fifty times. I had to figure out prices too. I was beginning to feel this was a bad idea.
A few hours later they returned with a decent selection of weapons and ammunition. Two 9 mm Sig Sauer pistols, a Daniel Defense AR15, a Mossberg 12 gauge shotgun, and an M249 SAW .308 belt fed.
“This should be good enough,” Tevon grinned as he laid them out.
“You should have seen him when they took him into the armory. Kid in a candy shop,” Sarah said. “He was sad when they wouldn’t let him take the browning.”
“A fifty caliber?”
“Roof mounted. Ready to roll,” Tevon winked.
I knew he was messing with Sarah so I smiled back.
“Okay, let’s get this wrapped up then.”
Two hours later I was standing at the back of my rented vehicle waiting as Pepe’s men came down the steps. They searched me and the bags, taking them and the ammunition and putting it on a hotel cart.
Pepe met me in a private dining room on third floor. It had white marble floors with red velvet walls adorned with paintings of the countryside. I was trying to steel my nerves but my throat was dry.
“May I offer you a drink?” Pepe offered me some wine.
“If it’s okay, I’ll start with bottled water and we can drink after the deal is made?”
“That is fine.”
I laid out the pistols first and let him handle them. I had already made certain the magazines were empty. He only spent a few moments looking at them. I moved to the AR15. His eyes lit up when he saw it.
“This is something that you can sell thousands of. Where did you get them?”
“I work with weapons distribution to Ukraine and Poland. I can get most anything.”
We worked through the weapons and he nodded at each one. When I placed the M249 in front of him he worked the weapon easily, opening the bolt load and testing each component. He smiled when he tested the trigger.
“Yes, yes. This is all good. I want twenty percent.”
I choked on my water.
“That’s my profit margin. I can give you two.”
“No, no my friend. I’m risking my entire organization that I’ve built up over many years. Twenty percent.”
I’d been in other situations before where I negotiated with people. Usually it was with terrorists or drug lords. But this guy was busting my balls. He wanted the entire profit margin I had figured out.
“Three percent if you can move all my inventory. I have three deals waiting for me in Tampico. Otherwise I make no money, and I have to make money to stay in business. By the way, how’s your brother doing?”
Pepe froze for a moment. It was like I had somehow broken his character. Then it dawned on me. Juan Carlos wasn’t the one in charge. He was expendable. He was…oh crap.
“He survived because of you. The doctors said the Naloxone you injected him with counteracted the fentanyl they hit him with.”
“I’m glad I could help. I know how important it is to maintain your safety net around you. If the cartels don’t know who to hit, they can’t kill you.”
A look I didn’t fully recognize came over Pepe’s face. My mind was frantically trying to piece everything together I had just stumbled on. I had found his bluff and called it.
“Five percent, Señor.”
I gave him a knowing smile.
“Si, Amigo. We have a deal.”
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