Free Eye for an Eye by Ben Coes

twelve.”
    “Two level pay increase?” said Chang. “We must succeed.”
    “Typical. You should be honored that, of all the agents in South America, you and I were selected for this mission.”
    “I could live without the honor,” said Chang. “I could, however, live with two more weeks of vacation.”

 
    12
    VISTA TOWERS
1198 MALECÓN CISNEROS
MIRAFLORES DISTRICT
LIMA, PERU
    Raul awoke to the sound of his cell phone. He reached to the bedside table and picked it up.
    “What.”
    “One hour. Be at the private terminal.”
    “Where am I going?”
    “Córdoba.”
    Raul reached up with his left hand and rubbed his eyes. He reached behind him, to the wall above the bed, and flipped a switch on the wall. The curtains moved slowly away from the windows, which took up the entire wall. Sunlight exploded into the room, and he shut his eyes.
    “Who?”
    “China.”
    “How long will I be gone?”
    “Well, that depends now, doesn’t it?”
    “What time is it?
    “Five-thirty.”
    Raul’s eyes opened again, as he became more alert.
    “Who’s the target?”
    “I don’t know. You’ll find out when you get there. You’re part of a team out of Caracas.”
    “Who is it?”
    “I told you, I don’t know.”
    “You forget I know you, Pascal.”
    “He’s American. That’s all he told me.”
    Raul felt the naked backside of his girlfriend, Marisol, pressing under the sheets against his groin. He was thirty-one years old, still young, but compared to her, he was an old man. They’d had sex twice the night before. How can she still want more, he thought to himself as she continued to grind against him.
    “Pascal, I’m back three days,” said Raul into the phone.
    “I already wired a hundred thousand. You get another hundred on completion.”
    “How much are they paying?”
    Marisol turned her head and smiled at Raul.
    “Two million.”
    “I want half, or else get somebody else. Call me when you wire the other nine hundred.”
    “Three hundred. I’ll give you all of it before you go.”
    “One million. You heard me.”
    Raul hung up. He pulled away from Marisol.
    “I need coffee,” he said, throwing the sheets off.
    He climbed out of bed. Marisol looked up at him.
    “Come back to bed.”
    “My God,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “Did you not get enough attention when you were a child?”
    “I still am a child,” she said. “Technically, seventeen is still a child.”
    From the floor, he picked up a pair of black silk boxers and pulled them on.
    “What’s the matter?” she said. “Can’t you get it up? My old boyfriend could do it like six times a day.”
    Raul stared at her for a moment, then lurched forward and slapped her hard across the face, sending her flying to the side of the bed. She let out a scream. Blood trickled from her lip.
    “Animal!” she yelled. She started to cry.
    “Get out,” he said, calmly. “You’re going to be late for school.”
    “It’s Saturday.”
    “Whatever. Get out.”
    Raul walked to the window. He looked out at the ocean, a bold shelf of glimmering black that spread to the horizon. He walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the kitchen. He flipped on the coffee maker. From the black marble countertop, he took a cigarette and lit it.
    A minute later, Marisol came running down the hallway, dressed in a black miniskirt, high heels, and a blouse. She was disheveled. Her long brown hair was tousled, her makeup smudged from tears. She held a small washcloth to the side of her mouth.
    “You fucking asshole,” she said as she walked by him. “When I tell my father—”
    “When you tell your father?” asked Raul.
    He reached for a drawer, then pulled out a Glock 18, with a stainless-steel suppressor screwed into the muzzle. He took three quick steps toward her. She put her hand up, between the tip of the weapon and her face. She cowered, crying, as he stepped closer, a maniacal look on his tan, stubble-coated face.
    “If you tell