“Why won’t you be with me?”
“I will be with you. It will just be covertly. I have no intention of ever leaving you. I’m not your mother.”
To my surprise, a single tear makes its way down my cheek. Whether I like it or not, her abandonment still hurts me. He continues talking, ignoring my show of emotion.
“You need to be seen as vulnerable and being a woman, alone in a foreign country, makes you appear that way. The doctor needs to feel free to continue selling babies. If he views you as a mere visitor in his home, just a student taking classes, he won’t see you as a threat. Offering lodging to students has been his cover for the black market baby sales so you will be that student and he will conduct business as usual.”
“Why would he use language classes as a cover?”
“Much of his business is marketing babies to Americans and he needs a connection with the states. Blonde haired, hazel-eyed women aren’t common in Antigua Guatemala, but because he has students coming in from the states, it doesn’t raise suspicion. Don’t be deceived. This doctor will appear to be a meek, mild-mannered man, but it’s the connections he has to the cartel that make him dangerous. These people don’t think anything of putting a bullet in someone’s head. It’s common to see shootouts in broad daylight in full view of the public. Lives are bought and sold in this part of the world. We leave tomorrow morning and starting from the time we get to the airport and board the plane, we’ll be separated. I’ll be on the same plane as you, but it’s imperative that we maintain our distance. In other words, you don’t know me. Once we arrive in Guatemala, you’ll catch a bus to Antigua. At that point, you’ll be in a small pueblo and you’ll need to go to the local tienda and get directions to the doctor’s home. Though you won’t see me, I’ll always be close. If I need to contact you, I’ll text. Delete any of my texts as soon as you read them. One more thing… trust no one.” His face goes cold as he eyes me intently when he continues to speak, “and if I can’t trust you… I’ll kill you.”
How can this man go from cold to hot and back again so quickly? I don’t understand him at all and how does he expect me to keep up while he takes me with him on this emotional journey? He speaks as if answering my question. “My job is extremely dangerous and I can’t afford to have anyone close to my team, much less working with us, that I can’t trust.”
“How long will we be gone?”
“I can’t tell you that. The first thing you’re going to learn with me is to expect the unexpected.”
I look up to see a man coming in that I have never seen before. Cash speaks as the gentleman makes his way over. “I’m placing a chip in you.”
“Why? I ask, looking at the device in the man’s hand.
Cash’s expression tells me he has more than one reason for doing so. “Well, we wouldn’t want to lose you, would we?”
I don’t argue as I feel the sting signifying that the tracking device has been successfully inserted in my shoulder because I am actually looking forward to working undercover with Cash. The whole idea of working with Undercover Elite is exciting to me. I also think it’s pretty cool that I have been chosen as the only female to be on the team. If the only way I’ll be allowed to follow through with this first job is by wearing a tracking device, then so be it. I have no intentions of trying to run anyway. The sooner he is assured of my loyalty, the sooner I will be accepted as part of the team. The last thing I want is to be treated any differently just because I’m a woman and I certainly don’t need these guys thinking I’m going to run off on some emotional whim. I am actually looking forward to not only getting started with Undercover Elite, but meeting the rest of the team as well.
Chapter Eleven
Johnnie
Cash wastes no time throwing me into third world culture. It is evident that my time growing up in Puerto Rico is going to be put to good use. He had warned me not to reveal the level of my fluency in Spanish, saying that it would give me an edge on eavesdropping if they thought my knowledge of the language was limited.
I stare out the bus window and watch as black smoke lazily blows by, the smell of diesel filling the air. It’s almost nauseating in its intensity and it’s evident this country isn’t the least bit concerned with being eco-friendly. I am already becoming accustomed to the smell assaulting my senses but warding off the headache and nausea caused by the fumes is proving to be a bit more challenging.
The Mayan woman sitting next to me stares with no reserve. It is something else I have learned to accept—the staring. For so much of my life, I didn’t fit in anywhere but it was okay because it was all I knew. I grew up being the only white kid in the neighborhood so I was used to people gawking at me. Ever since I could remember, I was always a head taller than any of the other kids in school. Much of my time growing up was spent feeling clumsy and awkward. The bus stops and jolts me out of my thoughts. Getting through the maze of people on the bus is going to be a trial. There are so many crammed in the tiny space that there is even one guy hanging out of the bus door, holding on to nothing but the bar that’s meant to help passengers as they board. People carry cages with chickens in them and mothers sit breastfeeding infants with their whole breasts exposed, completely comfortable whipping a tit out in public.