Warriors in Paradise Read Online Free PDF

Afghan tour. They came because of Acapulco’s promise of sun, beaches, and relaxation. They were flush with cash from a year’s tax-free pay with combat bonuses.
    However, after two days, all they had seen was rain and more rain. They came to Acaquila to have fun, savor a few drinks, and meet some pretty girls. However, that didn’t work out. A girl rebuffed Charlie, and a Mexican—me, me, me—had challenged them to a fight.
    So far their trip had been a nightmare.
    I hope that was going to change. Then again, I could be wrong.
    We talked for more than two hours.
    Dancing
    After our meal and powwow, we went to the club. It was half empty because of the rain. However, there was a busload of Ukrainian university students dancing and making a racket. Some of them were good looking and athletic. We joined them and danced until closing time.
    Of course, modesty apart, I was the best dancer. You know—all those Latin genes! Charlie was a robot, dancing as if he were in the middle of a swamp with cement boots. Caleb had rhythm and moved with a certain instinctive animal grace. Even though he was not familiar with some of the music favored by the international clientele, he felt the music at a primal level and sensed the people dancing around. He was soon dancing as if he were born to it.
    I don’t know how long we danced, but we were soaked in our own sweat.
    We flirted some with the Ukrainian girls, but it was only that. They were too much into themselves and were leaving the next day after a one-week visit to Mexico City, Cuernavaca, Taxco, and Acapulco. Besides, some of those girls had not learned proper hygiene. When you are in a hot and humid place, such as Acapulco, with a temperature hovering around thirty degrees Celsius and a humidity of close to 100 percent, you should take at least one shower a day, and you have to use deodorant. Otherwise, your presence is loudly announced by your body odor.
    At two o’clock in the morning, they all marched in a single line, like good little soldiers, to the bus that was going to take them to their hotel on their last night in Mexico. I hoped they would take a shower before boarding the plane, or they would run the risk of being charged and convicted for contravening the law on the prevention of biological weapons of olfactory mass destruction.
    We left soon after, and the rain was still coming down hard. There were no taxis around. The avenue looked like a river.
    “Hey, guys,” I said. “Since you made such an effort to come all the way here to beat my sorry ass, you’re welcome to stay at my place.”
    Charlie asked me mockingly, “Santi, are you feeling lonely and in need for someone to warm your back?”
    “No, not particularly, but it’s understandable that an ugly gorilla finds me irresistible.” I answered.
    Without their saying yes or thank you, we ran toward my car and drove home under the constant, unwavering rain. My wipers were at full speed, and still I had to drive very slowly. I could hardly see five feet ahead.
    I started to get concerned. The constant rain would be the end of Acapulco unless it stopped soon. Acapulco was full of domestic tourists because of the long Independence Day weekend. The ground and the reservoirs couldn’t take any more rain. In a couple of hours, I was sure there would be mudslides and flash floods. What a recipe for disaster: a multitude of tourists and downpours.
    We arrived home after a one-hour drive. We were still in high spirits, so we had a couple of beers, talked some more, and then went to bed at about five in the morning.
    These damned gringos sure can party! I thought.
     
     

Chapter 3: Food and Lies
    Morning
    I n spite of going to bed late, I woke up to a sunny and dry morning. A promising day—the first without rain in four days.
    I put on my bathing suit and flip-flops and went down to wake up Charlie and Caleb.
    “Rise and shine, you lazy gringos,” I said as I walked into the room. “We have a sunny morning