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“Fuck, that’s rough, man. I’m at the point where Beth is either too horny to handle or puking her brains out. There’s not much else going on in her brain beyond that nesting thing women go through.”

Closing his eyes, Simon smiles. “Those days were golden.”

We stay silent for awhile more as we get thrown around the back of the van. I’m actually thankful for this fucking vest I’ve got strapped around my chest as I continue to get beat up from all sides.

“What’s the full plan?” I ask Simon.

“Simple snatch and grab. We’ll wear the balaclavas. Their room is towards the end of the resort. We’ve been positioned to hit the room almost directly. So no need to go in full tactical swat style. But we need to be careful, any cartel members hanging around could get twitchy.”

“They’ve been alerted about the extraction?” I ask as I pull the black balaclava over my head and make sure it’s only revealing my eyes.

“Yes, but there’s always the chance someone was left out of the loop. If that happens, try to deescalate,” he says then pulls his own mask over his head. “Like I said, international incidents would be very bad right now. Especially since it would more than likely cost us our ride home. We’d be stuck crossing the river or using boat freighter to get back.”

There’s a small crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and I just know that motherfucker is alluding to my trip back home from Russia on one of those fucking hellish boats.

“There was an easier way to get home,” I say in a dead, flat voice. “I could have just fucking flown, couldn’t I?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He starts to chuckle, and I see his chest moving up and down in an effort to stop himself from laughing full out.

“You fucker!” I snap at him. “Do you know how many times I fucking puked? I lost five fucking pounds of weight! I looked like I had a fucking eating disorder!”

“Well, it was payback for the grease you left on my chair after you sat on it.” He smirks then adds, “I had to sanitize my body and car after sitting in that chair.”

Rolling my eyes so hard I can feel the strain, I grunt, “I hope you chemically burned yourself when you did it.”

“Fair enough.” Simon laughs. “Which reminds me, did you tell Evie to ask me about human reproduction?”

“The fuck?” I sit back. “Why the hell would I do that shit? I’d send her to Meredith or Beth if she asked me.”

He frowns. “I thought as much.”

“Something I’m missing here?”

Miguel’s rough English comes through the divider between the front and back. “We here.”

“Later,” Simon says and moves to the doors.

Moving next to him, I stand in a stooped position, waiting for the go.

“Fast and clean, John,” Simon says.

Looking over to him, I say, “Let’s do it.”

Simon pushes the doors open and we both step out at the same time. Mateo, who’s dressed like us, hops out of the passenger seat a moment later. He’s got a polícia patch on his chest, and hopefully that will give us even more credence.

It was hot as fuck in the back of the van, but standing in the humidity is fucking awful. Thank fuck I brought my shooting gloves. My hands would be a sweaty mess if I hadn’t.

Raising the M4 up into the crook of my shoulder, I keep it aimed at the ground but at the ready.

“Vamos,” I say to Mateo.

Mateo’s job is to lead us into the hotel then head to where the shitbirds are sleeping off another all-night bender. From the intel we got, they crashed sometime in the early hours of the morning and nothing has been heard from them since.

We move up the stairs and into one of the side doors of the building. No need for us to go traipsing through the front doors of the large resort. It’s already bad enough that we’ll eventually have to go through an open pool area.

I force my mind to keep track of the here and now.

Nothing about this resort is like the last time I was in this country. Here, they have bellhops and attendants to take care of your every whim. Where I was, I was beaten, stabbed, concussed, and had more attempts on my life than I can remember. There wasn’t a gang in the prison I was kept in that would accept a guy like me.

It was open season on my ass.

I never had shelter or safety, not without me carrying a couple of shivs in my clothes. I would have used the money my family sent me, but it was confiscated every single fucking time. Thankfully my father found an official I could bribe who got me released. That was right before my father, and only link to my biological family, died.

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