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surrounded the bed. From his room, Len could see a helipad and a fair amount of the compound’s perimeter wall.
    “What business are you in, Mr. Salvatierra?”
    “Narcotics.”
    Len almost laughed at the frankness of the answer but didn’t for fear of ending up in a ditch somewhere. Salvatierra had tanned skin and a thick head of white hair that matched his mustache. He had the vibe of a sleeping volcano, a warm pleasantness that almost dared people to take him for granted. Len could smell a river of rage underneath that charm and mentally filed Salvatierra under “not to be fucked with.”
    “May I ask you a question?” Len asked.
    “Certainly.”
    “What is your connection to Neith? How do you know each other?”
    Salvatierra smiled to himself. “Neith and I are old friends. She provides me with intelligence, which allows me to move my product into North America. We split the profits. She speaks very good Spanish!”
    “I’m surprised you’re so open about this.”
    “That is because you will not tell anyone,” Salvatierra said, turning to face Len and staring him in the eyes.
    “I won’t. I’m just curious.”
    “Curiosity killed the cat, Mr. Savitz. Do not let it kill you.” Len averted his gaze. “I am keeping you here as a favor to Neith, but I have no…what’s the word? Compunction?” Salvatierra poked Len in the chest. “Yes, no compunction about getting rid of you.”
    Octavia came running into the room like a welcome breeze. “Daddy, do you want to come to the beach with me?”
    “It is no problem,” Salvatierra said, suddenly back in character with his avuncular smile.
    “Of course, darling.” Len glanced back at Salvatierra. Salvatierra summoned one of his armed guards, then walked out of the room.
    Len and Octavia walked down to the beach, where they played in the waves while Salvatierra’s guard sat under a palm tree and watched. Without being too obvious, Len tried to get a feel for the lay of the land. Salvatierra’s compound was the only structure on the island; they were completely isolated, surrounded by miles of water in every direction. Apparently the only access was by helicopter, boat, or swimming. Len wondered if there were sharks out there. Somewhere, he speculated, there was some asshole real estate agent who specialized in finding drug cartel kingpins their dream homes.
    It was ingenious, really. Neith had picked a place to keep hostages that was remote, fortified, and in a country that had tenuous diplomatic relations with the United States. Salvatierra could murder them out here if he wanted to, bury their bodies in the jungle, and no one would ever know. And even if someone did know, a man like Salvatierra would have enough political muscle to avoid problems with local law enforcement. In fact, he probably got away with murder on a routine basis.
    Coming back into the house with Octavia after an hour or two at the beach, Len saw Sara in the entrance, arms akimbo and looking ready for a fight. Christ, here we go, thought Len.
    “Octavia, can you catch me a lizard?” Len asked.
    “OK, Daddy!” Octavia ran off to the courtyard.
    Sara at least had the decency to watch Octavia run off before starting in on Len. He hadn’t seen Sara in person for a while, and he looked her over discreetly while her attention was on Octavia. She was still beautiful on the outside, statuesque and Nordic looking, with a round, pretty face. Like a Viking princess almost, but without any hint of nobility.
    “Good job, Len! Who did you piss off this time? You got us kidnapped and sent down here to this third-world hellhole!”
    “I tried to warn you, didn’t I?”
    “No, fuck you, Len. You could have told me someone was going to kidnap us. Instead you had to be all vague and mysterious,” she said, making vague and mysterious hand gestures.
    “Oh, right. I always forget that everyone is a liar except for you, and that I have to corroborate everything I say. You’ll have to excuse