The sun hadn't even cracked the sky, but the kitchen smelled like roasted peanuts, hot sauce, and something unmistakably lime-flavored.
Diego stood over the counter divvying up ziplock bags of tamarind candy and spicy trail mix, while Luis wrestled with the lid on a thermos of strong café de olla. Jorge, already in a windbreaker and boots, whistled as he packed beef jerky and fresh fruit into the side pockets of the duffel.
Joe leaned against the wall, a folded blueprint in one hand and a mechanical pencil in the other, scribbling notes as the plan came together.
"We'll go over it in the van," he muttered to Jorge. "I've got the outer locks mapped, the electrical grid sketched out, and the secondary failsafe Claire mentioned marked in red."
Claire, boots laced and braid tight, tossed a
