Free Greasing the Piñata by Tim Maleeny Page A

happen here.”
    “I read that in the in-flight magazine,” said Sally. “So, you want to come up to my room?”
    “Wow, you work fast. And here I thought you didn’t like boys.”
    “I
do
like boys—it’s men I have issues with. C’mon, I brought you a present.”
    Sally pivoted on her right leg and strode purposely toward the hotel entrance. Cape felt like he was being pulled along in her wake as he followed her across the sand and then the cement around the pool. He scanned the bar as they crossed the lobby. Two men in Hawaiian shirts and straw hats sat in a booth at the far corner of the room. He couldn’t be sure with the subdued lighting, but Cape thought he saw the tip of a bulbous nose protruding under the brim of the nearest hat.
    Cape had not changed rooms nor checked out, but he stuck to public places until Sally arrived. He hung out by the pool, walked on the beach, strolled through the lobby and shopping arcade. Bought a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, charged them to his room. He wanted to be seen, but he didn’t want another close encounter until he was ready.
    Sally’s room faced west, directly across the pool from Cape’s. She could see his bedroom window and tell whether the blinds were open or closed; the light on or off.
    “Perfect,” said Cape, turning away from the window. He looked at the black bag on her bed. “How’d you do with customs?”
    “Take a look.” Sally unzipped the black duffel, causing it to unroll like a sleeping bag down the length of the bed. Inside a series of pockets had been sewn to secure a variety of metal and wooden objects that had nothing to do with a beach vacation.
    The first series of pockets held
shuriken
, throwing stars of various shapes and sizes arranged across the interior of the bag in a deadly constellation. Next was a long pocket holding a pair of
nuchakas
, two columns of wood joined by a short chain. Decades after Bruce Lee used them in
Enter The Dragon
they were still sold through catalogs to kung fu aficionados who usually ended up hitting themselves in the head or breaking a lamp in their mother’s living room. But Cape had seen Sally use them and knew they were a serious piece of equipment.
    Cape’s eyes moved across the portable arsenal. A wooden shaft secured by loops ran the length of the bag; it could be used as a billy club or pulled apart to reveal a six-inch, carbonized steel blade. Nylon rope, a grappling hook, a pair of palm-sized field binoculars. Night vision scope. Sally knew how to pack.
    Cape whistled. “You’re a dangerous woman.”
    “Now that’s a redundant phrase.”
    Sally reached into a small zippered compartment and pulled out a black handgun. She held it with two fingers, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Here’s your penis extension.” She handed over the pistol as if disposing of a dead rat. “Promise not to lose it. I may not get the green light next time.”
    “I promise.” Cape checked the gun. It was a Heckler & Koch nine millimeter semi-automatic. Composite frame, three-inch barrel. Expensive but reliable. It held 10 rounds, but Cape was hoping he wouldn’t need any of them. He handed the gun back to Sally. “Hold it for now.”
    “So what’s the plan?” Sally returned the gun to its pocket and sat down.
    “Order room service if you want, while I go back to the pool.” Cape opened the drapes. “Maybe in an hour, when you’re feeling ready to go sightseeing, turn off the light in your room and come downstairs. I’ll be watching your window from outside. Hang around the front entrance, keep a cab waiting.”
    “Wardrobe?”
    “Black.”
    Sally nodded. “And then?”
    Cape smiled. “Then I’ll go back to my room and get kidnapped.”

Chapter Eighteen
    Cape heard the
swoosh
of hangers being pushed aside before he felt the gun barrel against the back of his neck. He had walked right into a trap.
    “
Manos para arriba
,” came a voice from the closet. Cape swiveled his eyes without moving his