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Guy Bianchi
G and G Brewery and Hostel
Honduras
Guy swung the door open to his private cabin. He dropped the bags of money inside the door. It’d be safer here than in the car. Juan followed him inside. His clothes were sopping wet and dripped water onto the tile floors. Guy grimaced at the sight. He pointed to the bathroom and told him he’d bring him something to change into.
Juan hadn’t made it anywhere near the caves before the waterfall had swept him back. Like the baby he was, he’d demanded new clothes. Easier to move in, Guy mocked him in his head. In truth, Guy wasn’t dressed to go into the caves either. It wasn’t easy to trek through the falls. It took strength. The wrong clothes could weigh you down, be the difference between success and drowning. Gray wasn’t even sure how Gray had managed it with his injury. Maybe they were wrong and Gray had drowned? Guy frowned. His gut told him differently. Gray was still out there. After thirty years of dealing with the cartel, Guy’d learned to trust his instincts.
Tingles raced up Guy’s spine. Something wasn’t right in the cabin, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He pulled his gun and walked from room to room, looking behind every door. Guy relaxed as he went, each room showing nothing disturbed.
In the extra bedroom his muscles tensed again. The screen from the window was missing. Had someone been here? He poked his head out and looked around. Nothing looked out of place. The screen lay flat against the ground.
Must’ve just popped out when the house settled, Guy thought. It’d happened before with other window screens. Screens were a luxury in Honduras. Most homes didn’t have any, let alone one on every window.
Guy left the screen alone, planning on replacing it later. He shut the window and secured the lock. Guy went to his room and dug out a pair of pants and a shirt for Juan to replace his wet clothing. He quickly changed himself into quick-dry pants and a t-shirt. He replaced his dress shoes with water shoes. These clothes would be much better for searching the jungle and surroundings while the shoes would give him better traction in the water. Guy knew he’d be getting wet before the day was out. They needed to get back quickly in order to search the caves. Guy handed off the fresh clothing before settling on the couch in the living area.
Guy fished his cell phone out of his pocket. No missed calls or texts required his attention. A quick check at the restaurant on his way to the cabin confirmed the hostel was running smoothly. No problems yet today to deal with. He informed the hiking guides to cancel any planned trips to the falls and to discourage any unplanned ones for the day.
What a mess today. Exhaustion overwhelmed him, but he needed to keep going. Gray was still missing and could cause quite a stir if they didn’t locate him soon. Jose had stayed behind at the waterfall to keep a lookout. If Gray were hiding out, he may make another appearance before they could return.
Guy dialed a number from memory. The man on the other end answered with a grunt. Guy skipped over any pleasantries.
“Any updates on my friends?” Guy asked.
“They rented a car and left the airport.”
“Headed where?” Guy asked.
“I didn’t ask them.”
Guy forced down the anger rising inside him.
“Does the car have GPS? Track it!” Guy hung up the phone and sighed. Juan emerged from the bathroom carrying his wet clothes. They continued to drip onto his floor. Guy stood up and tossed Juan a bag from the kitchen for the clothes. No words were needed, his face showed his displeasure, but Juan didn’t seem to care.
“I called el jefe,” Juan said. He tried to hold Guy’s glare but looked down.
“You did what?” Guy’s voice exploded out of him.
“Don’t put this on me. This is your fault, and el jefe isn’t pleased.” Juan stabbed the air with his finger as he spoke.
“We were handling it. Are handling it,” Guy said. He moved to within inches of Juan.
“You are handling nothing. That man is missing. He saw our faces. He saw the exchange. You are both dead when el jefe gets here with his men,” Juan gloated as he told Guy he was dead. With Guy out of the picture, Juan was one step closer to having more power. Guy could be replaced with one of Juan’s own men. A man he could trust and control.
Guy charged at Juan, tackling him. Juan flew back and broke the coffee table as he fell. Guy landed on him, punching his face. His nose crunched as it was broken. Blood spurted and then poured down Juan’s face. Juan ignored the pain and wrapped his hands around Guy’s neck. Guy reached up to break his hold. Juan took the opportunity to roll Guy under him. Juan used all his strength to squeeze the life out of the man he detested.
Guy fought for air but couldn’t get any into his lungs. He reached out with his hand and pulled the lamp cord. The lamp fell from the side table next to him. With his last bit of strength, he hit Juan over the head with the lamp. Juan fell to the side. The impact didn’t knock him out, but it dazed him. Juan’s grip lessened on Guy’s neck. Guy used the moment to leap free.
Guy gulped air, his lungs screaming for more. His voice was hoarse as he yelled at Juan.
“This is why you aren’t in charge.” Guy landed a swift kick to Juan’s side. Both men grunted on impact, one in pain and one in effort. “You can never handle anything on your own.” Another kick. “You run to uncle jefe. You are weak.” Another kick. “He would’ve eliminated you years ago if your mother hadn’t begged for your pathetic life.”
Guy squatted down next to Juan. He twisted his hand in Juan’s shirt and pulled him closer. “I watched her beg. She cried and pleaded on the floor like the trash she is.”
Guy’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pushed Juan back to the floor before he answered it. Guy walked to the kitchen for a towel to wipe the blood off his hands while he spoke.
“What?” Guy spat into the phone.
“I found them.”
Guy’s patience wore thin.
“And?”
“The car stopped moving about thirty minutes ago.”
“Get. To. The. Point.” Guy enunciated every word, anger radiating through them.
“They are at your hostel.”
Guy didn’t respond. He huffed into the phone. One hand tightened around the towel while the other tightened around his cell phone. The phone cracked under the pressure.
“There’s more. Two more Americans came through security here.”
“Frank Donato and Michael Thomas,” Guy guessed. Something bumped behind him sending Guy whirling around. He looked at the closet in the front room and his eyes narrowed. He slowly worked his way toward the door as he kept up his conversation.
“How’d you know?” Fear crept into the man’s voice as he worried about his usefulness. Everyone knew Guy eliminated those who couldn’t help him any longer.
“I’ve been waiting for them.” Guy hung up the phone and slipped it into his pants pocket. His fingers touched the knob of the old door when Juan moaned again. Guy turned his head to look at him. Juan moved and his elbow bumped against the floor. Guy released the breath he’d been holding along with the door knob. His nerves were frayed because of the Gray situation. Guy threw the towel on Juan’s chest.
“Clean yourself up. We need to get back to the falls.”