Destiny Interlude:

A Summer Cruise

Destiny Saga 3

By

T. Starnes

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

About The Author

Other Books By T. Starnes

This is a work of fiction.  All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Destiny Interlude: A Summer Cruise

Destiny Saga, Volume III

Copyright ©2015 by T. Starnes

All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978-0-9968668-3-5

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Chapter 1

Nine o'clock. It was nine o'clock and I was still sitting by the front door, waiting for everyone.

We had a three hour drive to get to Galveston, where the cruise ship was leaving. It was set to depart at noon. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When I decided to go on vacation with seven women, I should have known scheduling would be a problem. I should have lied and told them the ship left at ten. But, Mom bought the tickets, so she would have known better. Still, we had all agreed we would be out of the house at seven-thirty, to give us a nice cushion so we didn't have to rush.

That was wishful thinking on my part.

I looked over at the stack of luggage next to the door, and was glad I had at least talked them into renting a passenger van for the trip to the port. Sure, the eight of us could have fit into Megan's suburban. It would have been a tight fit, but we could have made it. Or so it was pointed out to me the previous week when we were booking everything. But I had a feeling we would need more room, and looking at the mound of luggage, I knew I was right.

I couldn't fathom why we needed so much luggage. I was thinking a single duffel bag would be all I would need. We were only going to be gone for ten days. Not that I was allowed to pack for myself. When I suggested all I needed were ten changes of clothes you would have thought I had declared I was going on a cannibalistic diet. Apparently, I didn't understand the need to be prepared, fashion wise.

Thankfully, my traveling companions finally made it down from packing and I was allowed to load the van up. By this point, it was nine-thirty, and we had two and a half hours to make a three hour drive.

"I have to run inside one last time," I said once they were all in the van.

"What? We are running late, Cas," Zoe, one of my girlfriends, said.

Yes, I said one of. I have three girlfriends. Some would say I am the luckiest guy, others would say I am a glutton for punishment. Both would be right.

"I will be fast, I promise," I told her.

"Well, hurry up. You're making us late," Vicki, another one of my girls, said.

I had grown accustomed to the girls finding a way to make things my fault, and had given up on trying to make corrections. I figured if I gave in on all the little stuff, it would give me a fighting chance on the big stuff. So I hopped out of the van without responding, and ran into the house.

Except I had told a small lie, I didn't need to get anything. I wanted to make a phone call to my friend and sometimes attorney, Jonathan. Not because he was a lawyer, but because he was pretty persuasive. I explained my problem to him. After spending a moment to laugh at my situation, he said he would call ahead for us and see if he could stall them for a bit.

As I walked back to the van, I started to think it might be time to get cellphones for me and the girls. The per minute cost had always put me off them, before; but considering how many times I have had to sit by the land-line and wait for a call, it might be time to bite the bullet. Besides, now that my company had sold off our patents, I was set to get a pretty enormous payday. It wasn't like I couldn't afford it.

I hopped in the van and we were off. I didn't tell anyone I had asked Jonathan to call ahead and stop the boat, mostly because I didn't want to have to point out that they had made us run so late. Mom was doing her best to make up the time on the drive and I was a little worried we might get a ticket. But we weren't really speeding more than the other drivers on the highway, so I figured that it was ok.

Mom did manage to make up some time and got us to the port just ten minutes after the end of boarding time.

"See, no problem," Mom said as she indicated the ramp to the boat was still down and they were still set up to accept passengers.

We, however, were the only passengers there. Everyone else was already on-board.

"Excellent! Now we can stop waiting and get underway," the man who checked us off the passenger list said.

Mom gave me the 'stink eye', and I figured the jig was up.

We had arranged for three cabins. One for me and the girls, one for Mom and Tina, and one for Megan and Sarah. Looking at the cabin, I could already tell the girls and I were going to be a tight fit, but there was no way we wanted to be split up, so we would just live with it.

The cabins were small enough that I had to back up and stand in the hallway, so the girls had room to put away clothes and do whatever it is they felt they needed to do, so it could be livable for the next week.

I was leaning against the hallway wall, across from our room, when the door to the left of ours opened up.

A guy and a girl stepped out of the room. They were somewhat older than me from what I could see, but still fairly young. If I had to guess I would say college age, give or take.

"Hi," I said, smiling.

"Hi," the guy said back. "I thought maybe the cabin next to us was going to be empty. You guys just get on board?"

"Yeah. We were pretty lucky the boat was still here."

The girls stepped out of our room, probably because they heard me talking to someone.

"This is Zoe, Vicki and Tami," I said indicating each of them.

"I'm Charles Bailey and this is my girlfriend Sandra. But people call me Charlie and her Sandy. You guys on vacation?"

"Yep. Us, Zoe's mom, my sister, and a couple of other friends."

"Wow, big group."

"And all girls. Now you know why we were so la … ow," I said, feigning injury after Zoe slugged me in the shoulder. Sandy laughed at our antics and Charlie's gave me an understanding look, one guy to another.

"Are all four of you staying in that one cabin?" Sandy asked.

"Uhh … yeah," I said.

In our insular home life, I had grown used to people knowing about my relationship. Now, it occurred to me that some people might take a dim view of it. Thankfully, neither pressed for follow up information.

"We are going to go explore. Wanna come along?" Charles asked.

"Sure. We should probably let our friends know where we're going," I said

"Ok. Invite them along if you want. We were gonna meet our friend Eddie by the front pool area. Meet us, there?" Charlie asked.

"Sounds good," I said.

They headed off and we found the rest of our group. Mom and Megan both begged off, but Sarah and Tina wanted to come along. We headed up to the pool area and found Charlie and Sandy along with another guy their age I imagined was probably their friend Eddie.

After introductions were made Charlie asked, "So where do you go?"

"Truman High," I answered. I assumed they were also from Texas, and so maybe had heard of it.

"Ohh, you guys are in high school?" he asked, seeming surprised.

"Yep, I am guessing you’re in college?"

"Let's go find some people our own age to hang out with," their friend Eddie said.

"Be cool, man, they're only a year behind us," Charlie told his friend before turning to me and saying, "We're gonna be freshmen at Sam Houston."

He was still adding several years to my age, and I felt it best not to point out we were four years behind him, not one. Ever since my genetics began doing their thing, and the girls had undergone their change, our bodies had made subtle changes. I had grown another inch and the girls had each picked up a little height, also. Coupled with the physical shape we were all in, and I could see how someone might credit us an extra couple of years.

Thankfully, the girls followed my lead, "We still have a little time to figure out where we want to go. I imagine you are pumped for college to get started."

"You have no idea," Sandy said.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the ship with the trio. Even though I had read the brochure on the cruise, I was still surprised by the variety of activities. There was a pool with water slides, a gym with basketball court, a small library, a movie theater, plus bars and clubs which were not open to us. I knew I would actually be on my own for part of the trip, as all the girls had scheduled to spend the better part of a day at the on-board spa.

After spending the better part of the afternoon touring the boat, the girls wanted to head back to our room and take a nap. This was a vacation after all.

"Do you guys want to meet up for dinner?" Charlie asked as we were saying our goodbyes outside the doors to our respective rooms.

I looked at the girls for confirmation and then replied, "Sure, sounds good. Meet up in the hallway at say, seven?"

"Works for us," Sandy said.

Turns out the girls weren't tired so much as they just wanted some alone time. That was easier said than done, considering the cabin we were in did not have beds designed for four people. We made do, however.

I left the girls sleeping and went to knock on Megan and Sarah's door. There was something that Mom had pointed out to me before we left, that I wanted to check in on.

"Take a walk with me?" I asked Megan when she answered.

Sarah wasn't in the room so I guess she was off doing something fun. We walked up to the deck and set a slow, leisurely place on the running track that went along the outside edge of part of the deck.

"So in about a month, you’re going to be leaving us," I said as we walked.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Excited?" I asked.

"At the beginning of the year, it was all I could think about, honestly. Now. Not nearly as much."

"Feeling homesick already?"

"I guess. I mean, I had friends and everything before all that stuff happened this year. But now? It's so much different. I feel like I am a part of something. I really don't want to give that up."

"You don't have to. Even away at college you are part of something."

"Yeah, but it's not the same. Here I was contributing. Only a little bit, but it felt good."

"You will still be contributing, at college. A lot of what we are working towards will need the education you’re getting."

"I know," she said, sounding unconvinced.

I wasn't sure if this was some aspect of the genetic bond we now shared, or purely psychological. But I got where she was coming from. Even when there were no special circumstances, leaving what you have always known and striking out on your own was difficult. All you have to do is look at all the issues college freshmen have, to see that.

"If you don't like it, you can always move to a closer college next year. Until then, any time you want to come home, even for a weekend, just say the word and I will have plane tickets standing by. How does that sound?"

She finally smiled and said, "Good. Thanks, Cas."

We stopped walking as she gave me a hug.

"No problem. You know how important you are to all of us. All we want is for you to be happy."

I hoped she was feeling better, but only time would tell. This kind of thing couldn't be rushed. I walked her back to her room and then rejoined the girls, who were getting ready for dinner with our new friends. I had left a message with the rest of our group about the plans for the night.

We met them in the hallway and all headed to one of the boat's many 'seated dining rooms'. They also had buffet style rooms, but we had agreed this sounded like the best option. We ordered and made small talk until the food showed up, mostly going over all the stuff we had seen on the ship that day.

"So, Cas tells me you three go to Sam Houston?" Mom asked once the food arrived.

"Well, we will once the year starts. Freshmen," Charlie said.

"What are you going to major in?" Zoe asked.

"Charlie and I are going to major in environmental science and Eddie's going for political science," Sandy told her.

"Out to save the world huh," Mom quipped.

"Something like that," Charlie said as a look passed between him and Sandy.

There was some kind of unspoken message between them, but since we only met today, I felt it best not to intrude.

"So, I'm dying to know," Eddie said after the silence hung for a moment, "what's the deal with you four."

He was indicating me and the girls.

"It's … complicated," I said, still thinking it best to keep our unique relationship on the down low.

"No it's not," Zoe countered. "We are dating."

"All four of you?" Eddie asked after he picked his jaw off the floor.

"Yep," Tami said, smiling.

Either they had a talk between the three of them while I was walking with Megan, or they were just freakishly on the same wavelength. Honestly either of those could be true, knowing them.

"So like, you four … " Eddie started before being cut off.

"Leave them alone, Eddie," Charlie interrupted. "No one wants to give out the details of their love life. So what are you guys doing the rest of the cruise. Any specific plans?"

"The girls all have a spa day planned the day after our first port stop, and I know we were planning on spending some time at the pool … past that, we were just going to wing it," I told him.

"So, nothing tomorrow?"

"Well, the four of us will go running in the morning. After that, nope."

"If we are going to keep eating like this," Sandy said, indicating the large plate of food in front of her, "then I am going to need to get some exercise in, too. Mind if Charlie and I join you?"

Charlie did not look thrilled at the request, but odds are he wouldn't have much say in it, one way or another.

"Sure; but, as a warning, we keep a pretty aggressive pace," Zoe said.

"I'm sure we can slow it down a bit. No reason to push hard while we are on vacation," I said.

"Great," Sandy said, sounding excited.

"Yeah, great," Charlie added, sounding less so.

The rest of the meal was just 'getting to know you' chitchat. They seemed like good people and I was happy we made some new friends. They were all from Waco and would be going to school in Huntsville, so the odds were we wouldn't see them again after the cruise. But you never know what's going to happen.

We got up early the next morning for our run. Tina and Sarah had no interest, and even though Megan has been enhanced like myself and the girls, she has steadfastly refused to join us in any of the conditioning we have been doing. Which is fine. Technically the rest of us could probably get by on just our enhanced bodies, without the additional exercise, and still be in top physical form. But I think the girls had come to enjoy the zen-like state of exercise as much as I had.

Sandy was bouncy and ready to go when we met them outside their room. She had a grumpy Charlie in tow.

"It won't be so bad," I told him.

"Says you. You're in great shape and probably do this all the time. I try and never run unless I'm being chased."

"Just think about all the good will you're building up with Sandy," I said, trying to lift his spirits.

"Yeah, I guess. It's not like she gave me a choice."

"Yep, I know how that goes."

"Times three. You are a masochist, you know," he said, finally smiling for the first time since coming out of his room that morning.

"Seems that way."

We got up to the running track that went around one section of the ship and started on a slow lap, well slow for us. By the third lap, we started picking up the pace and poor Charlie was huffing and puffing. Sandy was doing a little better. By the eighth lap, Charlie veered off and sank down to the ground just off the track, breathing hard.

"Man down," I joked and the girls all laughed, except Sandy.

"How … are you … guys … not … winded?" Sandy managed to get out between gulps of air.

"We do this a lot," Tami told her.

By the twelfth lap, Sandy collapsed beside Charlie.

"We are going to do a few more, and then we can all head off, ok?" I stopped for a moment next to them to ask.

"Sure … whatever," Sandy barely managed to get out.

Charlie had recovered enough to laugh at her suffering. I sped up and rejoined the girls. Now that we didn't have to hold back for Sandy, we picked up the pace to our normal 'public' speed. If we'd been all alone, and out of sight of any others, we probably would have gone much faster, so we could have had a real workout. But there were too many people around, and I still thought it best to not draw attention if we could help it.

We pushed out five more laps before I called it a day. I didn't want our new friends to have to just sit and watch us run lap after lap. Stopping by the two, I helped Charlie to his feet while Vicki helped up Sandy.

"Man, you four are machines," Charlie said.

I laughed and said, "Zoe did warn you."

Sandy was just shaking her head, "I thought that meant you would go a little fast or do a few extra laps. You guys really picked it up once I stopped, and went for a bunch more. And you don't even seem tired."

I just shrugged, "What can I say. We like running. Let's head back and get showered and changed. We can find something else to do for the rest of the day."

Thankfully, they let me change subjects.

The next two days were like heaven on earth. We swam, we ate, we danced at one of the clubs at night, and just had a good time. I still wasn't sure about Eddie, his personality seemed to be a bit brusque, but Charlie and Sandy were great people. I was surprised when we made port and invited them to join us for some shopping. The three begged off, saying they had something they needed to do. They did promise to meet back up with the lot of us when they finished, and hang out some before we had to be back on the boat.

We split up on the dock. The seven girls and I headed into the small shops set up to sell to tourists. To be honest, this was one of the things I was not looking forward to. A day of shopping is never a good time in my book, but I didn't have much say. I tried to beg off and spend time by the pool reading, but was told I was required to join them to serve as their pack mule. This is one of those downsides of love you are never warned about in the fairy tales.

We spent hours going through every single bauble and piece of junk in every single store! Or, at least, that's what it seemed like to me. Finally, the girls gave it a rest and we were able to call it a day, but not before they put a hurting on my new credit card.

I wasn't sure if I was thankful or not that Charles Green, my financial advisor and company CTO, not the new guy we met on the boat, had managed to secure one for me. Normally banks and card companies would never give a card out to a sixteen year old, but considering my new financial situation and the fact that Mom was available to co-sign on the card, the companies found a way to gloss over the fact of my age.

Charles liked to call this the 'wall of cash' form of negotiation, and I could see his point. Still, seeing how free everyone was with my card while shopping, I was beginning to see a downside. Not that I couldn't afford it, but frivolous spending wasn't something I had grown up with, and it was butting against my frugal nature. Of course, the girls all said it was ok, since we were on vacation … like that was an excuse. But, again, I wasn't given much choice; and I enjoyed seeing them so happy, so I let it go.

Near the end of the day, we were gathered near the pool, sipping drinks, and just relaxing until it was time to get back on the boat. Even with all my complaining it had been a pleasant day, just hanging out with my family.

The peacefulness of the day was torn apart when Eddie stumbled up to us. He had a cut on his forehead and was holding a piece of cloth to it which was looking pretty blood soaked.

"Eddie, what happened," I asked as I jumped up and helped steady him.

"We went into the city … the slums really. We had a plan to talk to some of the people there, do some outreach. We picked up a bunch of food and stuff and were going to give it out to the people who lived there. These guys jumped us. They had guns. I … I ran. They grabbed Sandy and Charlie and I was knocked to the ground. Most of them were grabbing for Sandy and not paying attention to me, so I ran away."

"We should call the police," Mom said.

"Yeah, but I don't want to rely on them," I told her. "Places like this, there are areas the police don't go into, or at least not quickly."

"You're going to go after them, aren't you," Zoe asked, sounding concerned.

"I think so."

"The ship is going to leave soon," Tami said.

"I know. You guys get on board. Get Eddie some help. I will find Charlie and Sandy and meet you at the next port."

"How," Zoe asked.

"I'll figure something out. I'm sure if I call the States, Ted or Jonathan could arrange for transportation between here and the next stop. I just don't want to leave them."

"I want to go with you," Vicki said.

"I know, but you can't."

"Why not," She asked.

"Because even with your … abilities …  you don't have enough training. Hell, I don't really have enough either, but of the group of us, I am the furthest along.”

I reached out and stroked the side of her face, "I know you’re worried, but I'll be ok."

None of them was convinced, but they knew me well enough to know I wasn't going to drop this. They helped Eddie hobble towards the ship, but not without several concerned backwards glances at me. After watching them for a few moments while I considered my next actions, I turned and headed in towards the poorest parts of the adjacent city.

Chapter 2

I had talked a good game to the girls, mostly to keep them from worrying, but I had a major problem. I might be able to handle myself in a fight, but finding two people in an unfamiliar city wasn't something I was trained for, or had any idea how to do.

Eddie had told me where he'd last seen Charlie and Sandy, as best as he had been able, but sadly, that was pretty limited. It seems the trio had set off into the slums with little or no plan and no real sense of direction. They hadn't made it into the deepest part of the sprawling, ramshackle town. They had come in from the southeast side, basically following the coast from the resort. He thought that they had gone less than a mile into the town before they were jumped and they had started to veer west, away from the coastline.

Of course that was just directions to where they had been jumped. There was no telling where the two college students were, now. For all I knew, they had been pulled deeper into the city. That was assuming of course they were still alive at all. I didn't want to bring it up in front of Eddie, but that was a possibility. The two most likely scenarios I could think of for what happened were either a kidnapping for ransom, or worse, they were jumped for what they had on them and then dispatched.

A kidnapping wasn't that unlikely, actually. I had done a lot of preparation for this trip. Besides learning Spanish, which, given the rate at which I read and retained information now, wasn't that difficult, I had read up on what was happening in Mexico. Not for any particular reason, just a mixture of 'you never know' thinking and curiosity.

One thing I had learned was how frighteningly common kidnapping had become in all of Latin America. It was so common that anyone with money had a special kind of insurance called Kidnap and Ransom Insurance, or K&R Insurance. Basically, if someone in your family was kidnapped, the insurance would pay out to their kidnappers and they would get the person back to you safely. It was so common, in fact, that unlike the US … where many kidnappings end badly for the kidnapped … the person who was kidnapped was usually returned safely once their abductors were paid.

The sad thing was, that was the best case scenario, since the alternative was much-much worse, especially for Sandy. If that was the case, I would almost certainly be too late. My best guess was that it had been almost an hour and a half since Eddie ran away. Even assuming they needed time to transport Charlie and Sandy to wherever these guys were based, I didn't think I would be in time.

So I just had to hope for the best case scenario and try to rescue them. That was the main reason I didn't want to stop and inform the authorities. Even at their best, it would have been hours … or more likely, the next day … before any attempt to retrieve them was made. The statistics for women held by kidnappers was almost as disheartening as that of the worst case scenario. Either way, I didn't want to leave my new friends with their captors any longer than I had to.

My thinking over the situation had carried me into the outskirts of town and I saw what I had actually been aiming for. A church.

Mexico is a fairly religious country, and heavily Catholic. It was my hope that the priest would be both sympathetic to my plight, and have some information on where I could find the group operating in this area. Odds were they were part of a gang that controlled this section, and there were probably other gangs controlling other sections of the city. That would work to my advantage. It increased the likelihood that the priest would know about them, from both gossip and listening to his parishioners. If I had to put money on it, it would be that the gang members went into the confessional regularly. It is one of those weird dichotomies that many criminals are religious. You would think one would cancel out the other, but no. It's just one of those strange facts of life.

If it was a cartel and not local gangs, things would be much harder. Cartels used kidnapping as one of their side businesses, and were very efficient at it. More so than a gang would be. But, from what I had read, they didn't operate this close to a resort where tourist dollars were badly needed. I had seen some soldiers in army uniforms, and if I had to guess, that wasn't uncommon.

I stepped into the church, which was dimly lit. During my trip, dusk had become night, and I had noticed how dim everything was. In the US you get used to constant light everywhere you go; but here, even the outside street lights or lights on buildings seemed much dimmer than I was used to. The inside of the church wasn't that much brighter than the outside.

A man in a Priest's vestment came walking up to me quickly. He looked concerned. He probably did not get very many Americans in his church, and this was not the best place for foreigners.

"I need your help, father," I said in Spanish.

I had been able to practice my Spanish all day during the shopping trip, and my accent was becoming pretty good, or at least I hoped so.

"You should not be here," he replied.

"I know, but I had three friends who wandered into your town. Two of them were grabbed by men with guns, and the third ran away, back to the resort down the road."

"You should tell the police at the resort then. Have them help you."

"I am afraid what will happen to my friends while I am waiting for the police to act. I believe you know what happens to people held by men like this."

His face turned into a frown, "Yes, but I don't know how I can help you."

"Tell me where I can find them. It was several men, and they were all armed. Men wouldn't be going around so openly unless this was the area they controlled."

"I know the men you are talking about, but I don't think I should tell you. These are very dangerous men. You will either be one more kidnap victim, or killed."

"I appreciate your concern, and I will be very careful, but I need to go to them. My other option if I cannot find out where they are, is to wander the town looking for them. Either way I am in danger."

"That would be extremely stupid."

"I am a desperate man, father. I could promise you I will be fine, that I am able to handle myself, but I know that would mean very little."

He stared at me for a long moment before saying, "Fine."

He didn't sound happy about helping.

"Thank you," I said. I knew he was trying to do what he thought best.

He gave me directions to a small block-style house about half a dozen blocks from the church. He said that he had seen the house once before, and could tell me there was a large wall going around the entire house. I was actually happy to hear that. That type of security might mean my actions would not be seen from the street and block them from seeing me, until I was practically at the house.

I thanked the priest again, and began making my way out of the church.

"I hope you find your friends," he called out to my back. "May God go with you."

I didn't acknowledge him, but slipped out. Assuming everything worked out, I had changed my plan a bit. I would come back here and have another talk with the priest. I had some plans forming in my head, although they would have to wait until Charlie and Sandy were safe. First things first, after all.

I left the church and headed down the street, following the Priest's direction. There were very few people out on the street, which was probably a good thing. In the US at least, street gangs had younger members stationed around a neighborhood as lookouts. Of course, they were normally watching for the police. I wasn't sure what the police presence was like here, but I hadn't seen any obvious sign yet, so I guessed it was much less than in the States.

In the middle of a block, I saw the house I was looking for … or, at least, its large eight foot walls. It was between several houses that seemed similar, just without the protecting walls surrounding them. I crept into one of the gaps between my target house and the house next to it.

I could see a glow over the wall. They had a fair amount of lights on in the house, while most of the houses around me had little to no lighting outside. What lights the adjacent houses had on inside, were mostly concealed behind curtains. What this meant was that the area right around the house where Sandy and Charlie were most likely being held, was significantly brighter than the surrounding area.

This worked to my advantage. Anyone standing guard (and I had to assume someone would be standing guard until I got a look at the house), would be hard pressed to see past the house. To them it would just be an inky blackness outside of their immediate area.

I stood silently outside of the wall for several minutes, listening intently. I could hear voices coming from the direction of the house, but they were muffled. My best guess was I was hearing talking from inside the house, through an open door or window. I couldn't hear any clear talking, meaning there weren't multiple people in the yard, or at least none that were talking to each other. I couldn't hear any sounds I would associate with walking, or anything at all that seemed close.

Taking a chance, I leapt up just high enough to get my fingertips on the edge of the wall, and pulled myself up slowly. I wasn't trying to vault the wall, at least not yet. I wanted to get my eye line just over the wall.

Thankfully, when I looked over I couldn't immediately see anyone, meaning they could not see me, either.

I saw I was on the side of the house and the windows on this side were closed, or at least had drapes over them. I could see light pouring from the back of the house. It also seemed, that was the direction of the voices.

Seeing no one in sight, I pulled myself the rest of the way up and then over the wall, landing as softly as I could. I eased up to the house and made my way along the wall of the house, so I could peek around the corner. I took a fast look before ducking back. Just enough so I could register what I saw, but limiting my exposure.

There were two men standing by the back door, smoking and talking to one another. They were both directly across from me, with one man blocking my view of the other. The man I could clearly see had a pistol shoved in his pants, not in a holster, but through the waistband. I assumed the other man was also armed.

This left me with a quandary. I needed to take these two men down before entering the house. If nothing else, it would lessen any opposition I might face in the house. But I needed to do it quietly. The last thing I wanted was for a bunch of armed men to come pouring out the back door.

So I waited, listening intently. Eventually the man further from me dropped the cigarette he was holding, and smashed it into the ground with the toe of his boot. He said something to his friend and went back in the door. This was as good of an opportunity as I was going to get. I still didn't want to go at him right in front of the back door. I could still see light coming out of it so it was either a glass door or had a large window in it. I couldn't tell from the angle I was at. Either way, fighting their sentry in front of it seemed like a bad idea.

Using a plan straight out of bad eighties action movies, I grabbed a rock and hurled it at the eight foot high wall across from me, where it hit with a thwack. I listened and heard no movement. After several minutes waiting I peeked again and the guard was now leaning against the wall, and apparently paid the noise no attention. While I was happy these guys were inattentive, for my current plan I needed him to be just a little more active.

I sent five more rocks against the wall, much harder. Each one impacted with a solid thwack sound. Finally, I heard movement from the guard. I guess I had managed to make enough noise this time that he couldn't ignore it. I pressed myself against the wall and waited. I could make out his footsteps as he headed my direction. They didn't seem careful. If I had to assign an adjective to the noise he was making, I would go with plodding.

He passed the edge of the wall and didn't look around at all, still heading towards the wall where the noise had come from. His gun wasn't in his hand. He in fact seemed fairly unconcerned. Maybe he thought the noise was an animal. Either way, he would be paying for his mistake very soon.

I moved behind him and threw my left arm around his neck. With my hand, I pinned his right arm since most people were right handed, and from the way he'd had his gun in his waistband, it seemed like he was too. This was a move I had been taught by Levi, my Krav Maga instructor, in our private sessions. My left arm was wrapped around his throat and pulled tight, constricting his airway. Besides cutting off his flow of air (which would render him unconscious or kill him depending on how long I held it), this move had the added benefit of stifling any noise he might make. Most people when put in this type of chokehold grabbed at you with both hands, but it was their dominate hand that was the most dangerous. Besides being used to pry the attackers arm free it had fairly open access to hit, scratch or gouge the attacker’s undefended face. It's why I had taken his dominant hand out of action.

I pulled him down as I squeezed to allow his body weight to add to the pressure I was putting on his neck, giving me better leverage and making it harder for him to break free. His left hand pulled at my arm, but he had no angle to get much force on me and made little difference. His grip on my arm lessened and then went slack. When he stopped struggling entirely, I counted a few seconds more and then released.

I checked that he had started to breathe again and was happy to find that he had. I wanted to avoid leaving a trail of bodies if I could help it. It did leave me with a dilemma. He could be out for one minute or ten minutes, there was no real way of knowing. Either way I didn't want this guy to show back up as I was taking care of his friends. It was a bit heartless but I grabbed his right arm and, with my foot on his body holding still, I slipped his shoulder out of the socket, dislocating it. I then did the same thing with his other arm. It wasn't a break, so once someone put them back in place he would be able to use them again, although with a fair amount of pain for a few days. What it did mean was he wouldn't be able to use either arm until someone helped him. Even getting up off the ground without the use of his arms would be difficult.

I also pulled the gun out of his waistband and took it with me. Partially to deprive him of a weapon, just in case he managed to put his arms back in their sockets; and partly because I might need it. I really wanted to avoid a gun battle if at all possible. First, because I had only ever fired a gun once, and I knew my skills were extremely limited, even with my genetic advantages. And second, because I had no idea how many homes in the area contained other members of the gang. The last thing I wanted was to bring a bunch of reinforcements for the other guys.

I had done some research and talked to Levi some about gun safety and use after the encounter with the masked gunman earlier in the year. It was not a substitute for a real lesson in firearms or practice, but it was better than nothing. Following what I had learned, I checked the chamber and the clip, so I knew how many bullets were in the weapon and that it was ready to fire. I also checked the safety, and made sure it was off, so I could use it quickly if I needed to. I did not put it in my waistband as the man I took it from had held it. The self-preservation instinct in me suggested I keep a loaded firearm away from my genitals, if at all possible!

I slowly walked back to the corner where I had been hiding, and down the wall. Between the back door and the corner of the house, there was a small window. I peeked inside slowly and thankfully saw nothing. I continued around to the back door and there was indeed a large window in it. Looking in I could see down a hallway with several doors leading off it to either side and a left turn at the end, maybe fifteen feet from the back door. I tried the handle and wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. It seemed these guys relied on their reputation, more than anything else, for security.

I eased the door open and slipped inside. There were four doors in this hallway, and I knew I needed to check each one. The hard part was how to do it quietly. Once I found a room with someone in it, there was no way I could think of to disable them without alerting the entire house.

I went to the closest door on the left first. I was almost certain the window I had looked in through was for this room, and there had been no one in it. I listened at the door and heard nothing. Looking in I found it was the room I had seen from outside, and it was indeed empty.

I repeated the process on the room across the hall, and thankfully found it empty as well. Next, I tried the next door on the left side of the hall. I wanted to do it first, since the door on the right was catty corner to what I thought to be the rest of the house. I would be much more exposed checking the second door on the right, and was leaving it for last.

Listening at the left hand door I could hear a faint sound, but wasn't sure what it was. I considered my options. I could either go through the door slowly and hope whoever was on the other side wasn't paying attention, or I could burst through and hope to overwhelm them by surprise. Once again, I wished I had spent more time with Levi or someone else to figure out how to deal with these situations. Not that I thought it was likely I would end up doing something like this again, but considering the long term plan I had for myself and my family, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. Trying to change the world was going bump up against a lot of opposition.

I stopped procrastinating and went with option A, slowly turning the doorknob, hoping to not attract attention. Once I had the knob turned all the way, I eased the door open enough to peek inside. The sound I had heard through the door was snoring. My luck had held and the person in the room was lying on a bed, asleep. I entered the room and as silently as possible, and closed the door behind me.

As I crept up to the man lying in the bed, I registered the gun on the nightstand next to him. I took a moment to remove the gun and place it out of his reach, just in case. That accomplished, I opted for a reworking of what I did to the man in the yard. I reached down and placed my hand over his nose and mouth, squeezing tight and cutting off his airflow.

As soon as I made contact, the man started to come out of his sleep, his muscles tensing, ready to resist me. I laid across him, using my shoulder to pin one arm to the bed and my free hand to pin the other, relying on my body weight to keep him down. His reaction speed was surprisingly fast, considering he had been fast asleep moments before. Unfortunately, for him the enhanced structure of my muscles gave me a phenomenal amount of strength. Coupled with a rapidly depleting supply of oxygen to his brain, his struggle was short lived. As before, I waited a few seconds after he went limp, to ensure he was truly out. I also repeated the shoulder dislocating that I had done to his compatriot.

I didn't want to carry two guns with me but I also didn't want to leave an additional firearm behind to be used by someone else, so I opted for a compromise. I spend a moment figuring out how to disassemble the handgun, ending up with four separate pieces including the clip, each of which I put in different parts of the room. Eventually someone would find and reassemble the gun, but that would take time.

I exited the room, and glanced around the turn of the hallway. After a foot or so, the hall opened up into a larger room, with a couch facing away from the hall towards the front door of the house. I could make out a part of a kitchen behind that, but a partitioning wall blocked the rest of my view into that room. On the couch was yet another man, facing away from me, watching soccer on a TV that was between him and the front door. There was a door next to the front door. My only hope was Charlie and Sandy were in there, since aside from the last room in the hallway I had yet to find them, and I was running out of house to check.

Thankfully, the small section of hallway before the turn blocked the last unchecked room from his view. I went back and double-checked that room, finding it empty. That left the guy on the couch; the kitchen that I was pretty sure was empty and the door in the front entryway to check. But first, I had to deal with the guy on the couch.

I figured what worked twice should work a third time, and crept up behind him. This was when I made my first major miscalculation. The way the lights were, as soon as I leaned down to put him in a chokehold I could see my own reflection in the TV. And he could see it, too.

I moved quickly to get my left arm around his throat to both try and subdue him and control him from getting up or away from me. Unfortunately I had given him enough warning to get hold of the gun in his lap and he was already bringing it up to take a shot at me. He was at a weird angle but since I was already in contact with him that didn't matter so much.

I had been caught fairly flat-footed and in all reality, even with my martial arts training, there was little I would have been able to do to keep from getting shot. Or, at least that would have been the case without my unique genetics. Unfortunately, for this guy, I did have those unique genetics.

I had dropped into slow motion as soon as I had seen my own reflection, and realized things were going to take a turn. This, coupled with pushing my already enhanced reflexes to the maximum, gave me enough time to bring my own gun up. I was at point blank range and had what seemed like an infinite amount of time to aim while I was in the slower motion frame of reference I was able to drop into.

I pulled the trigger and the bullet exploded from the end of the gun, ripping through his wrist and smashing into the television screen. The man screamed and began dropping the gun as time returned to normal. I increased pressure on his neck, willing him to pass out so I could begin moving toward the unopened door. With the gunshot, all pretense of stealth was out the window and I needed to move as quickly as possible.

My wishing however was not to be. As the guy was starting to cease struggling, the door in the front entry way burst open and two guys came tumbling out. Behind them, I could see what looked like stairs.

I knelt down, using their friend as a block between us as they pointed the guns they were carrying at me. The three of us seemed to pull the triggers simultaneously. Sadly, for them, I had a human shield and they didn't. They each fired at me twice, with two of the bullets sailing wide, one smacking into the couch to my left and the other hitting their friend in the chest. I made up for what I lacked in marksmanship with volume of fire, pulling the trigger over and over until the slide clicked empty. I had missed more that I had hit, with five of the bullets hitting around the two guys. Thankfully four of the bullets hit my targets, although pretty inequitably. Three of the bullets hit the guy on the right while only one hit the guy on the left. It, however, had hit him square in the upper part of the chest.

The guy on the right was totally still and unmoving; the guy on the left was making a sound that alternated between wheezing and sucking. I had nothing to back this up, but I thought perhaps I had damaged one of his lungs. I didn't spend time pondering this however. I grabbed the gun from the man I had been attempting to subdue, who was also quite dead, and headed for the door that was now opened.

As I was stepping over the two men, the guy making sucking sounds reached for his gun. I didn't particularly like myself for what I had to do next, but my first priority was helping my two friends and getting out alive. I was sure I would rationalize it later, considering that this was a bad guy who had probably hurt and even killed people in the past. But again, I didn't have much time to ponder things as I moved past him. I pointed the new gun I was carrying at him and pulled the trigger, shooting him in the head as I passed. I was about to head down stairs and could not leave the possibility of a threat when I came back up the stairs. It was heartless, I will admit that, but I had little choice. I didn't have time to tie him up or secure him in any way, and with the sounds he was making, it didn't seem likely he would last long anyway. That was, of course, me justifying my actions.

I pushed these thoughts aside, stepped through the door, and went down the stairs into the dimly lit area at the bottom.

Chapter 3

The stairs into the basement were narrow, and lit only by the light from the room above and a dim glow from the basement area. I moved down the creaking stairs, listing for any indication that there were more guys in the basement, other than the two I had already shot.

Thankfully, there were no other armed men in the basement to deal with. I breathed a further sigh of relief, when I realized I had found what I had been looking for. Charlie was propped up against a wall, staring at the stairwell. His hands were behind him, with his shoulders pulled at a weird angle. Most likely, his hands were handcuffed behind him. One eye was swollen shut, and he had yellowing marks on his face that would be nasty bruises in a day or two. We made eye contact as I entered the basement, and the look of relief that passed over his face was damn near palpable. His eyes drifted down to my right hand that was carrying the gun I had lifted from the guy on the couch, and widened in surprise. I could imagine it was difficult to put together the image he had of me on the boat, with the person standing in front of him. I had some blood on my gray shirt and on the side of my face, blowback from when the guy on the couch was hit. I must have made an interesting picture.

I saw Sandy off to one side, away from Charlie, curled into a ball. I was concerned about her, both because abuse at the hands of guys like these isn't something I would wish on my worst enemy, and if she was catatonic it would make getting them out of here much more difficult.

"I can't believe you're here," Charlie said as I walked towards him.

I had decided that I needed to free Charlie first, so he could help me with Sandy. Other than the ordeal with Zoe the previous year, I didn't have any experience with rape victims, and I didn't know how she would react.

"Eddie made it back to the resort, and told us what happened," I said.

I knelt down beside him and with a hand on his back, indicated he should lean forward, so I could get to his bindings. When he did, I was glad to see he was held by zip-ties and not handcuffs. Handcuffs would have meant going back up and searching the bodies of the guys at the top of the stairs, to find a key.

Considering all the gunfire, I didn't think we had enough time to deal with that.

"Did you come with the police?" Charlie asked as I stood up and started looking for something to cut the zip tie.

"No. The police would have taken at least 'till tomorrow to get to you, if then. I didn't want to leave you, and especially Sandy, in their hands that long."

I found a small knife sitting off to the side on a table with a few other tools. There was a random assortment of things in the basement, including a bunch of zip ties, so I assumed this is where they normally held people they had grabbed for ransom.

"Wait, you're all alone?" Charlie asked.

I went back to him with the knife, kneeling down again to get to the zip ties.

I cut through the plastic bands with a flick of the blade and said, "Yeah. I didn't want to wait for anyone else. The girls know what's happening, and they will call the American consulate and notify authorities in the morning if they don't hear from me."

Charlie stood up and rubbed his wrists. He had probably been in that position for a while and I would imagine he was feeling stiff and a little raw. I could see red lines where the zip ties had cut into his skin as he shifted around.

"But, how did ... " he started to ask.

I was actually surprised it had taken him almost a minute to get to this question.

"Let's get Sandy untied first, ok?" I said, interrupting him.

I didn't need to get into a whole thing about how I was able to rescue them, while we had a ticking clock over our heads. I was still going with the assumption that reinforcements would be along very soon, and I wanted to get us on the move as quickly as possible.

He nodded once, and we went over to Sandy. It was hard to tell the extent of what had happened to her. Her clothes were still mostly on, but were badly torn in places … especially her shirt. But, she seemed to still be wearing her underwear, which would rule out one of my worst fears for her.

She had been awake, also, and was staring at us; but gagged, so she couldn't say anything. Which was strange because Charlie had not been gagged. While I cut off the restraints holding her limbs, Charlie removed the gag from her mouth.

Her mouth freed, she sucked in a gulp of air, and choked for a minute. I had never experienced it myself, but I could imagine how uncomfortable that gag was. With her arms and legs freed, she also began rubbing the chafe rings left by the zip ties as she sat up.

She started to speak but I interrupted her and said, "Let's go. The gunfire might have brought their friends. We need to get out of here before they show up."

They were a little slow in following, probably stiff from hours of captivity, but followed me without argument. They both stopped after stepping over the bodies at the top of the landing, looking at the three dead men in the room, the smoking ruin of a TV, and the array of bullet holes.

"How ...” Charlie started again.

Again, I interrupted him to say, "Later. Let's move. NOW!"

The both seemed to steel themselves, although Sandy looked a little pale as she stared at the man with the bullet hole in his forehead and his chest. We were just out the door and to the gate when it swung open. A kid who looked to be closer to Tina's age than mine was coming through the gate carrying a handgun.

Seeing me he started to bring the weapon up, but thanks to my faster reflexes and the fact that I had been half-expecting someone to come through the gate at any moment, I was able to grab hold of the firearm and twist it out of his hand.

Simultaneously I brought my weapon to bear on him ... and stopped.

I couldn't bring myself to shoot him. He seemed fairly harmless now that he was unarmed, the alarm had already sounded apparently, and he was just a kid. I dropped the clip out of his gun and tossed the body of the weapon well over the wall to our right. He would find it eventually but it at least limited the damage he could do.

I reached into my pocket and grabbed the wad of pesos I had exchanged during the shopping trip earlier in the day, and offered them to him.

"Go home," I told him.

He looked at me dumbly. I could imagine he was having issues catching up with current events. Just seconds before it probably seemed certain he was about to be shot in the face by a stranger coming out of his gang's house. And then the stranger offers him a wad of money that was most likely his family's average monthly earnings.

"Go home," I said again. "Stop working with this gang. Go be with your family."

He didn't need to be told twice. Either out of fear or greed, he grabbed the money and high-tailed it out of the yard, and down the street. Charlie, Sandy and myself followed suit, heading into the warren of streets, trying to get away from the house before more gang members showed up.

"What the hell is going on, Cas," Charlie asked as we started in the direct of the church. "All those bodies. Then you give a wad of money to that kid."

"It's not so complicated, Charlie," I told him. "You were kidnapped and I rescued you. Simple as that."

"But, how did you do it?" he asked.

"Luck, and a little bit of training; but mostly luck. These guys weren't paying attention, and had no one really watching. They are kings of their neighborhood, and never expected anyone to come after them, so they had their guard down."

"But you shot three guys," Sandy said, sounding a little freaked out.

"Only two actually. They shot their friend on the couch trying to get me. I didn't have a choice, it was a me or them thing. Or rather, it was an us or them thing, since had they killed me, it would have been at least a day before the police came looking for you. If they bothered to do that at all."

"What do you mean, if they came at all?" Charlie asked.

I shouldn't have been surprised at their naïvety, considering how they ended up in this mess in the first place, but I was.

"That's just the way it is. Even in the US, there are places the police tend not to go, unless they have overwhelming force behind them. Places where gangs are in control. Its like that here, only worse. Do you have any idea what the murder rate in this country is? The cartels go after politicians, the police and the judges more than you would imagine. Maybe with pressure from the US consulate they would have come for you, but that would have taken days. Then there is the other thing."

"What other thing," Sandy asked.

I could see the steeple of the church from where we were, and I started to pick up the pace. I really wanted to get us off the street.

"A lot of the police and officials here are on the take. There was every possibility that someone on the gang's payroll would have tipped them off that the cops were coming, and you would have been moved. No, there were just too many variables to be relying on the police, and time was a major factor."

As we walked by a trashcan, I pulled the clip out of the gun, and dumped it into the bin. Thankfully, Sandy didn't ask me why there was a time factor. I didn't know if she realized what might have happened to her, but it was a subject I wanted to avoid if I could.

We walked in silence a bit further, with both college kids lost in thought.

When I wiped the gun down with my shirt and dumped it in another trash bin Charlie asked, "Why are you getting rid of the gun?"

"We're going in here," I said, indicating the small church we were approaching, "and it doesn't feel appropriate to carry a weapon in there. Also, Mexico has some pretty strict gun laws. The criminals may ignore the law, but I prefer to stay out of a Mexican prison if I can avoid it."

I was glad to find the church empty when we walked inside. The priest I had spoken to before, hustled over when he noticed us.

Eying the drying blood on my face and shirt, he said, "Are you injured?"

"No. This was from a guy I was standing near. Some of the gang shot him, trying to get me."

"Did you ... are they dead."

"Sadly, some of them. I only incapacitated the ones I could, but a couple left me no choice. I'm not going to weep for them, Father. Those men made their decision when they started kidnapping people."

"Caspian, what are you saying?" Sandy asked in English.

"I was asking your friend if he had hurt them," the priest responded in an accented English.

It didn't really surprise me he could speak English. Generally, priests, especially those who have managed to get ordained by the Catholic Church, tended to be more educated than the flocks they tended. What did surprise me was that Sandy didn't speak Spanish. While maybe Charlie or Eddie did, it was still strange considering they had clearly come here with a plan. I assumed that these guys were well meaning, but they kept lowering the bar on just how unprepared they were.

"And I told him what I said to you, well more or less. Those guys made their beds," I added in English.

We needed to get headed back to the resort, but the idea I had rolling around in my head when I left the church just over an hour before had taken root.

"Father, is this common for this area?" I asked him, sticking to English for the sake of my friends.

"No," he replied. "Most the people here want to work, be with their families, and live their lives. Very few people with money come to our town, and the resort is well protected by police and private security. The gangs make their living extorting the few businesses we have, demanding payments from the people who live here. In all honesty, they probably make very little more than the people they steal from."

"I guess that's not surprising," I said sitting in a pew and indicating he should sit with me. Sandy and Charlie followed suit. "So what can be done to make things better?"

"I don't think I follow," he replied, switching to Spanish. Probably because he thought he had miss-heard me.

"If you really wanted to change the way things worked in your town … make things better … how would you do it? I know it's an unreasonable question, just humor me," I said in English.

I wanted him to be sure he hadn't misunderstood me. It was actually pretty hard for people to think outside the box where they'd lived their life, which is precisely what I was asking him to do.

"I don't know," he sighed. "Better schools so kids didn't have only the choices of crime or working in menial labor. Some kind of industry, other than the resort, that people could work at maybe."

"Why other than the resort?" I asked.

"Except for a few cases like maintenance or gardening, you have to speak English to work at the resort. And you can't have any physical features that might disturb the guests. So people with dental issues, for example, can't work there. A lot of our people here have dental issues, since proper care is hard to get."

"I am guessing better schools would make some kind of industry possible?"

"I would think so. It is what you Americans would call, a self-fulfilling prophecy."

"Yeah, it seems so. Well, we have to get started on our walk back to the resort," I said, standing up.

"I can drive you back, if you wish."

"Thank you, that's very kind."

Charlie and Sandy had stayed pretty silent through all of this, but when the priest walked away to go get his keys, Charlie couldn't contain his questions any more.

"What's with these questions?" he blurted out.

"Let's wait and have this conversation back at the resort. We will have time while we wait for our ride," I told him.

"Our ride?" he asked.

"You'll see," I said as the priest came back.

The drive to the resort was uneventful. Maybe the gang had fewer men in the area then I thought, or they just had no idea where we went. Either way, no one messed with us as the priest drove us back. His car was what you would expect. Functional and without frills. A full size sedan from the early eighties. It was rusted, the windows were cracked, and it was a bit rough to get started. But, it was as reliable as he'd claimed, and got us there with no problem.

On the drive, I picked the priests brain some more, trying to get insights into his small village. As I had expected, most of their money was made from working at the resorts, and the resorts knew this. They paid as little as they could get away with, and the work environment could be brutal. They used up the people, and when they were done, let them go with little fanfare. The situation brought workers, but not money, to the town … at least, not in any significant amount, and the poverty brought the crime.

He seemed resigned to it, focused on helping where he could, and offering comfort where he couldn't. I wasn't very religious. It wasn't something I had spent much time considering one way or another, but I could appreciate the work people like him had done to help the suffering and the indigent. I wanted to find a way to help him. Of course, first I had to make sure my friends were back safely, where they were supposed to be, and get back to the girls. It wasn't a stretch to imagine how worried they probably were about me.

This was all information I was filing away for another day.

I asked the priest to drop us off just outside the front of the resort, and we would walk in from there. After Charlie and Sandy hopped out, I leaned back in and took the priest's hand.

"Thank you very much. You have been a huge help. I apologize if I brought any trouble to your door."

"I will be fine. That type leaves me alone. Besides, who would know?" he said.

Since Charlie and Sandy weren't being included in the conversation, I had switched back to Spanish.

"I also appreciate all the information. Don't be surprised if you hear from me again."

He laughed and said, "I almost want to wave that off as just talk, but seeing it's the last thing you said, I will reserve judgment. I welcome hearing from you again, and if not, I hope you have a nice life."

"Thank you, again," I said and back onto the sidewalk.

His car belched once, and then rattled away, back towards his people.

Charlie opened his mouth, preparing to ask more questions when I held up a hand, forestalling him.

"Let me arrange some transportation for us. Then we can talk," I said.

He sighed and nodded. The three of us went into the resort and up to the desk.

"Hi, we were here on a cruise ship, earlier today, and got separated and lost. We just found our way back, but the ship has already left. Is there a way I can make a call to the US? I have a calling card, I just need to arrange for some transportation to the next port the ship is visiting."

I had asked in Spanish, hoping to get a few extra brownie points so he would help us. Shameless, but I really needed to make a call. While it wouldn't really cost him anything, we weren't official guests of the resort, so he could have turned us down.

"Sure," he said after a moment and passed me the phone.

I punched in the number for the calling card, my account number, a US number, and waited. It was the middle of the night so I figured I would be waking Jonathan up.

"Hello?" a sleepy voice asked.

"Sorry to wake you up, Jonathan, but there has been a ... situation here in Mexico. I need some transportation set up," I said.

"Even on vacation you seem to find trouble," he said, but in a joking tone.

"Yeah, I am some kind of magnet. I still need help, though."

"What do you need?"

"We are at the first port of call for the cruise, and got left by the boat. I need to get some kind of transportation to the next port of call. A helicopter or plane maybe? Honestly, I have no idea how to set that up."

"Yeah, well, this money thing is new to you. Give me the specifics, and a number to call you back, and I will make some arrangements."

I gave him all the details of the resort we were at, and where we needed to go.

"One more thing," I added, "we are stuck here for a while, and I have nothing on me, really. I'm not sure how cooperative the resort will be with a kid and his friends just hanging out for a while and getting phone calls."

"An excellent point. Are you near someone from the hotel?"

"Yeah, I'm at the front desk or whatever."

"Ok, I am about to start spending some of your money. Put me on with the guy."

"No problem," I laughed, "and thanks, Jonathan. Here he is …"

I held the phone out to the resort employee.

"My attorney would like to talk to you for a moment."

The guy slowly took the handset, with a concerned look on his face. Considering it, the way I phrased that could have him thinking I was about to sue the resort or something.

"Hello?" the guy said. "Yes ... Yes ... I don't ... ohh ... That's a ... Yes, we can do that. Thank you, sir."

He hung up the phone, typed a few things into his computer and handed me two electronic key cards.

"You have a room booked for just today. We normally don't do short term bookings, but your attorney was ... insistent," he told me. "He will call you at your room with information."

"That works," I said, taking the key cards.

I should have thought about doing that, but it hadn't occurred to me. Here again was that gray area, where only experience really seemed to help. All the souped-up brains in the world wouldn't suggest I do something as simple as just book a room, and call from there.

When we got up to the room, I sat in one of the chairs, and looked at Charlie, "Ok, I know it's killing you. Go ahead and ask."

"Who the hell are you?" Charlie blurted out.

Chapter 4

Charlie had been dying to confront me with all the questions he had built up.

"I don't buy that whole 'I got lucky' thing. How did you overpower those guys and free us? And when we get here, you call your lawyer in the US, tell him to get you a helicopter or a plane to come get us and take us to the next port. Then had him convince the guy to book us a last minute reservation here just so we could wait by a phone. What are you, some trust fund kid?"

I had to laugh. He had been letting that build up for a while. He actually looked a little relieved once he was able to get that out of his system.

"Sorry I kept you holding that in for so long. I know it was killing you," I told him. "I guess I will take first things first. I have been training with an ex-Israeli soldier for a couple of years in personal defense, and I have gotten very good at it."

I had decided to play up my training, in hopes that it would deflect suspicion from my physical abilities beyond what I could learn as an average person.

"It was actually quite a bit more than just self-defense. But the big reason I was able to get you out, was that they really were asleep at the wheel. Until the guy on the couch, no one even knew I was there. I made a mistake though and he saw my reflection in the TV. I was able to get him in a choke hold, but he fired a shot randomly into the ceiling."

"I just pointed the gun at them and kept pulling the trigger. It really was all luck."

"Ok," Charlie said, "I get that. You got lucky saving us. But what about the rest?"

"Well, that is an area where I never really explained things. Yes, I am in high school, like I told you; but I also own a company that sold some patents for a good deal of money. What you heard, was me calling my friend … who also happens to be an attorney … to get some help for us. I have no idea how to actually arrange any of that stuff, so thank God I have some friends I can call."

"So, you're rich?" Sandy asked, sounding both amazed and a little disgusted.

"You could say that," I said with a shrug.

I could see a look pass between them, and I let out a sigh.

"Let me make a few guesses," I said, not letting them get in a word edgewise. "You guys really came out here with a plan on helping the poor and downtrodden, right? You're both going for degrees that will allow you to help people or the environment. Eddie, too, come to think of it. You are idealists, and I bet you don't think well of the rich."

"Not really," Sandy said, with a shrug that acknowledged my points. "The rich are all about getting richer, and are willing to do whatever it takes to get that way. Look at Exxon in Alaska."

"You know not everyone who has money is like that, right? Bill Gates has his foundation, and so does Warren Buffet. These guys give a lot of money to try and help people. I will grant you this isn't universal. There are those who abuse their wealth and take advantage of people. But, ideals and good intentions aren't the way to fix the world. You need power and money to make real changes."

"Being rich, you would say that," Sandy snapped.

Charlie laid a hand on her arm to keep her from saying more.

"I can appreciate that it looks like that. I guess first I should say, my money is a recent thing that all came from the sons of several rich businessmen shooting me. I would argue I paid a high price for the money I got! It does allow me to do the things I think you two want to do, but aren't equipped for, though."

"What do you mean that we're not equipped for?" Charlie asked.

He didn't seem upset but genuinely curious. Sandy still seemed a little peeved to find out I had money, however.

"Let me ask you some questions," I said, in response to his question. "What was your plan when you went into the village?"

"We were going to find out what was the worst thing in the city, and figure out a way to help them with that," Sandy said defensively.

"Ok, that is a good first step. And how were you going to do that?"

"You know … wander around. Talk to people," she responded.

"Who were you going to talk to?"

"Just, people," Sandy replied, getting annoyed.

"That was your first mistake. People have a bias towards what they deal with every day. In a place like this, which is held down by abject poverty; there is also the issue of only being able to see what is around them every day."

"Which is why you were asking the priest questions?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. People in the priest's kind of position, or running non-profits and community organizations back in the US, look at the community as a whole. Sure, they may have a bias based on their point of view or politics, but they are going to have better view of what the real problems of a community are."

"You don't think the people living in a place know what their problems are," Sandy asked, still defiant.

"Sometimes they do, but a lot of times they don't. They might tell you one thing is a problem, but not realize it's another thing that's causing the problem. Look at this village. One of the biggest problems people have is the gang problem, right?"

Both of them nodded they acceptance of my premise without saying anything.

"But how do you deal with that? Get rid of the gang, and more crime just flows back into fill the void. To fix it you need an overwhelming police force stationed in the area at all times. Which isn't practical. But the crime isn't the actual problem. The crime is a symptom of the bigger problem the village faces."

"What is that," Sandy asked, sounding less annoyed than before.

"Poverty and lack of opportunities. Those two things are the ingredients that go into setting up street crime. People don't have money, and don't have the opportunities or skills to make money, so they fall back on the only things they can do, which is take money from others who have just a little bit more."

"Let me ask you another question," I went on. “If you would have been told that, during your tour of the city, what would you have done next?"

The pair looked at each other, back and me, then back to each other, trying to come up with an answer.

"And that was the second problem in your plan. Your intentions were good, and the fact that you were ready to dive in head first, really says a lot about you guys. But solving problems like this takes planning and resources. Do you know what is the biggest problem with small, well meaning charities going into disaster areas and trying to help to rebuild?"

"No," Charlie said.

"They more often than not start working on some big project. Building a hospital, a school, housing, and never finish it because their funding gets used up before the project is finished. Because they aren't equipped to deal with the issues that kind of environment brings. They tend to be made up of volunteers who have the most noble of intentions but not the actual skills to execute their lofty goals. They also don't know how to get around the problems the community itself creates."

"Why would the community keep a charity from helping them?" Sandy asked.

"As a whole they wouldn't. But in places like the village you were just in, the gangs would be trying to get a piece of the action. Building up the community weakens the gangs, and besides, they are parasites on everything that touches the community. They can't help but feed on anything in it, even if it actually hurts them in the long run. So you have holdups, kidnappings, extortion."

"Then how does anyone ever help these places," Charlie asked.

"Money," I said.

"Wait, you just said charities wasted money in places like this. How will money help," Charlie asked.

"Because it has to be used right. Bring in the right people to manage everything. People who know how to get things to work in a particular region … since what makes projects difficult in Mexico, is different than what makes them difficult in sub-Saharan Africa, for example. You let those experts manage all of the volunteers, and other people that want to help make the world a better place."

"So what makes you an expert on this?" Sandy asked, a bit of her attitude back in place. But it felt forced, like she thought she should still be offended, but wasn't, really.

"I have been doing a lot of research and talking to several people about this. I am opening up a charity with large portions of my money, but I want it to be effective. So I am making sure the money goes to the right place."

"Ohh," She said somewhat defeated.

Before anyone could talk about anything else, the phone rang. I picked it up and listened to the person on the other end. They didn't give their name but were clearly hired by Jonathan.

"Ok," I said, and hung up. “Our ride is here. It's been a long day for you two. Let's put all this behind us. When we get back to the States and you have settled into your new college, call me and I will arrange for you guys to come out to Texas for a few days. I know you two want to help change the world. I think that's worth something, and if you are willing to get serious about it, I am willing to help you do it."

We left the room without ever really using it for anything other than a waiting room, and headed down to the front area, where the employee gave me a forced smile as I walked past. Outside, there was a Lincoln Town Car waiting for us. It drove us a few miles to a small airport, where a twin-prop plane waited for us.

My experience with airplanes was extremely limited, but if I never have to fly on something like that again, it will be too soon. The plane rattled the whole way, and I swear I saw bolts shaking, ready to pop out as we flew. That thing felt like a flying death trap. I wasn't alone. Sandy was holding onto her seat with a death grip.

Thankfully, we touched down safely, where another Town Car was waiting to pick us up. It took us to the resort where the cruise ship would be docking, for its second port stop.

We had actually beaten the ship to port. It wasn't scheduled to show up until just after lunch, and it was still early morning. Since we were all still in the same clothes that we had been in for more than a day, none of us were looking forward to lounging around the pool or relaxing. Both Charlie and Sandy were dead on their feet, and what I most wanted was a shower. So we headed to the docks, and sat waiting for the boat to show up.

"You're serious about all this, aren't you?" Charlie asked after we sat down.

"Which part," I replied.

I wasn't sure which part of our previous conversation he was picking up from.

"About giving us the money to help people," he said.

"Well, that's not actually what I said I would do. Remember I said that money, alone, isn't the answer. It is the expertise that money can buy that is the real solution. You guys are well meaning and have big hearts; but let's be honest, you don't have the expertise."

"What I'm offering," I continued, "is the tools for you to get that expertise. We can talk about a project you want to do; and, if it's feasible, we will bring in the right people for us to talk to about it. If they say it's doable, we get the right experts, and you can work directly with them on the project. I will fund it. This way, you get to help some people and learn how to be effective at doing it."

"Ohh, I hadn't thought of it like that. I thought, with our degrees we would learn enough to be able to do some stuff. Maybe join the Peace Corps after college, and do that for a few years to get experience," Sandy said.

"Well, your degrees will allow you to do some stuff, but keep in mind they weren't set up for you to have the knowledge to do charitable work. They are there to get you a career. And the Peace Corps is a good organization. You could learn the expertise you need there. So that is a pretty good plan, but I would suggest not trying to go venturing off into the unknown to help people, 'till you get that experience. Still, if you want to work with me and my charity during your off time at school, I think we could do some great stuff together."

"Thanks, Cas," Sandy said, "that's a really great offer. We will talk about it."

"Sure, no pressure," I told her.

We reverted into silence, waiting for the ship. After a few minutes, I heard a small noise and turned to see Charlie and Sandy leaning into each other, asleep. I laughed softly to myself, and returned to my thoughts while waiting for the ship to arrive.

About an hour later, the ship showed up, being pulled into port by a pair of small tugboats.

I stood up and nudged my friends awake.

"It's here," I said.

Even after the boat tied up, there was a while to wait. The crew of the port had to get the stairs up to the boat so people could get off and back on, and they had to make sure everything was safe. Then we had to wait for a tidal wave of people to sweep by. I kept my eyes on the crowd as the mass of people walked past. I finally saw the girls, Mom, and the rest of my group walking past, accompanied by Eddie.

They hadn't noticed us so I pushed my way into the crowd behind them, and grabbed Vicki from behind in a hug.

"Going somewhere, beautiful?" I asked.

She stiffened for a second before my voice registered. Turning around she punched me, hard, on the chest.

"You scared the hell out of us," she said with a scowl.

Knowing her as well as I did, I knew she was faking it.

"I'm just fine, and look," I said gesturing at Charlie and Sandy who had made their way to join us, "I brought them back safe and sound."

Hugs were given out all around and Eddie seemed much relieved.

"How did you manage to get those guys to let them go," Eddie asked.

"They will tell you later," I said, interrupting.

"So no trouble?" Mom asked with a pointed stare.

"Nothing that will track back to me. We're fine," I told her.

I linked one arm with Zoe and one with Tami and said, "Let's go finish our vacation."

And that's what we did.

END

About The Author

T. Starnesisa freelance writing living in Texas. He has a love for books of all types, but preferably sci-fi, mystery and the occasional history.

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Other Books By T. Starnes

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In The Destiny Saga

Destiny’s Road

The Ties That Bind

What Lies Ahead

No Good Deed (Coming Soon)