Of Dolphins and Desires

Chapter 2

2

He lowered the binoculars and shifted to relax the cramp beginning in his legs. Headquarters thought it was too soon for him to be back in the field, but another day locked up in rehab and, well, he didn’t want to think what that would have done to him. His need was to be in a place where the walls didn’t close in, and where he could see the sun and the sky and feel the breeze on his face. He refused to allow his mind to travel down the path of mistakes and leaked information that had led to his cover being blown and subsequent torture at the hands of Hombre Loco. Crazy Man, Pablo Escobedo, the meanest son of a b***h Logan had ever had the misfortune to cross paths with.

Stretching out his legs, he took a seat on the sand and continued to watch La Casa. Apparently, the curtains were only part of the interior décor and not security, since they didn’t block his view into any of the windows on the west and south sides of the house. He could see Maria Gonzales in the kitchen, and watched as the young Miguel Hernandez moved into the dining room with a stack of plates.

Logan raised the glasses to his eyes just in time to get a closeup of Courtney Swanson as she rushed from the game room into the dining room. She briefly consulted with Miguel before continuing on to the kitchen.

He had spent the last week in rehab, and the entire flight from Seattle to Ensenada, reviewing the file that The Agency had on Dr. Courtney Swanson. Well, almost doctor. Her preliminary research findings, if able to be replicated, could mean that the U.S. would have a way of stemming the flow of pure Columbian snow coming in through San Pedro, California.

Glancing at his watch, he figured it was time to move. Rolling to his feet, he kept in a crouched position in order to limit the size of his shadow, and keep anyone from becoming suspicious should they choose to look in his direction, as he moved quickly over the sand, through the mounds of beach grasses, and then trotted parallel to the fence that surrounded La Casa. His rented Tahoe was parked a half-mile down the road.

Opening up the back, he tossed in his field glasses, grabbed his coat and tie that would complete the dress code necessary for this operation, which included his alias joining the dinner party. Tipping the canteen to wet his hands, he pushed them through his hair to smooth back the black strands. He closed the back, and walked around to the driver’s front door as he fished out the non-prescription glasses from the jacket pocket, and set them on his nose.

Sliding onto the front seat, and looking into the angled rearview mirror, he adjusted his tie and collar, then said, “Well, Cheerio then, Logan,” as he practiced the British accent that would complete the facade of Dr. Edward Perkins, Professor of Ocean and Fishery Sciences, University of Washington. Readjusting the mirror and turning the key in the ignition, Logan mumbled, “Game on,” in his natural, slight Texas twang.

“Muy bonita la mesa, Miguel,” Courtney complimented on her way through the dining room and into the kitchen.

“This looks incredible, Maria. You outdid yourself. The Senator will be pleased.”

Courtney snagged a hot tortilla off of the stack that Maria had just finished making, tore it in half, and proceeded to stuff an entire piece into her mouth. She closed her eyes and groaned in ecstasy.

Maria beamed a smile at her, then reached in to the large pot to take out the steamed tamales. She arranged them on a serving platter that would go into the oven to keep them warm. She enjoyed having Señorita Courtney living here. She was a good girl, which in Maria’s mind made up for the fact that she isolated herself in the house or in the water, instead of searching for a husband. Maria enjoyed mothering the Señorita, partly because the girl had lost her mother at a young age, but also because the girl needed to know some kindness, since the Senator only expressed his expectations of his daughter, never any love.

Courtney was gathering ice from the freezer when the Senator’s voice echoed from the front entryway. Both women stopped and met each other’s eyes. Courtney swallowed the second half of the tortilla, which seemed to travel to her stomach like a golf ball. Maria cast her eyes down and schooled her features to that of a proper domestic. Courtney picked up the full ice bucket and went out to meet her father.

“Courtney, don’t you look ravishing. The Mayor and the General will be impressed. Oh, by the way, set one more place. I’m expecting Professor Perkins from Seattle to be joining us.”

The Senator was always changing plans at the last minute. She should be used to it by now. Many of her birthdays, and most of the holidays when she was growing up, were delayed or ruined when the Senator took an unexpected trip out of town, or planned a party that was more about getting votes than it was about celebrating with his daughter.

“Of course. I’ll ask Miguel to take down another setting.” She turned around to find Miguel standing behind her, nodding his head that he had heard the order before he disappeared into the kitchen.

Turning back to her father, she said, “I trust your trip went well?”

“It did. I had time to read the information on the disc you sent me. That is what I wanted to speak with you about.”

They moved into the game room, where the Senator went behind the bar to pour himself a drink. Courtney placed the ice bucket on the wet bar, then proceeded to open the French doors that led to the pool and the ocean beyond. She strained her ears to listen for the myriad of animal sounds that were usually carried on the breeze, but there was nothing.

“… would really help our negotiations with Mexico. Courtney, are you listening?” he asked, catching her daydreaming.

“Yes. You were saying?” She tried to focus her attention on her father.

“Your preliminary findings are impressive. You should know the General will ask about the length of training necessary to get the results we need.”

“The training will take some time. I have no idea how long it will take for them to master each stage.”

“Well, you better come up with a timeline. The General is ready to make a deal with a few researchers at one of the universities in Mexico City. He wants this, Courtney. If you’re not onboard, the professors he’ll hire will be in charge of the training without you.” The Senator downed his scotch and poured another while a furious Courtney tried to form a come back.

“He can’t—” she started, but was interrupted by the doorbell.

She smoothed her hands down her dress, as much to pull it down on her legs a fraction of an inch as it was to dry the sweat on her palms. Courtney felt uncomfortable at social functions, and the way her father dominated these small parties always made her uneasy. There was always a time when he disappeared into his study, either with one of the women in attendance or another politician or businessman. She knew what happened with the first, and didn’t want to guess about the second.

Pulling open the door, she found herself looking into a bespectacled pair of gray eyes set in a tanned face, framed by black hair that was slicked back and disappeared behind wide shoulders.

“Good even’, Miss. I’m Edward Perkins,” was the British accent that floated to her ears. He extended his hand. She slipped hers inside his and squeezed.

“Hello. Courtney Swanson. Do come in. The Senator was just telling me that you’d be joining us this evening,” she said as she stepped aside to allow him to enter.

Closing the door behind him, she turned to see Edward Perkins shake hands with her father. He seemed rather well built for a professor. She looked down at her palm as she remembered his hand. Not smooth, like someone locked in an office all day, but calloused, like he worked with tools. Her profession demanded that she notice the smallest details in animals, not only the ones she worked with, but others she saw in the environment, and she tended to do the same with the people she met.

Courtney was just about to join them when the bell chimed again. She admitted Mayor Fernando Rodriguez and his wife, making the necessary small talk to welcome them. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a blue and white striped tie. His wife, a few inches shorter than the Mayor, was dressed in a traditional cotton dress with colorful embroidery and even a few petticoats. She pointed toward her father and Professor Perkins, encouraging the couple to join the others.

Just as she started to close the door, a large body wedged itself between the door and the frame. Turning, she saw the General had arrived, or at least his bodyguard. Swinging open the door once more, she looked out to see the General’s Hummer, complete with Mexican flags mounted to each corner of the hood, parked behind the Mayor’s Mercedes. After the bodyguard and another two men that must have been the General’s top aides entered La Casa, Courtney finally was able to shake hands with the General himself. His khaki uniform was graced with stripes on the sleeves and a handful of medals pinned to his chest. The weapon holstered on his side and his polished black boots completed the picture of a man for whom the military was life. A majority of his once black hair was gray and cut very short, much like his mustache. His pocked face gave away his poor upbringing. The smile on his lips, as his eyes traveled down her body, made her want to extract her hand from his and wash it in bleach.

Two of the General’s entourage, armed with large guns, stationed themselves on both sides of the front door. Whether that was to keep anyone else from entering La Casa, or to keep everyone from exiting, she couldn’t be sure. She stepped aside, giving ample room for the General to pass in front of her, only to have him brush past, his upper arm connecting with her breast. Sucking in her chest helped to limit the contact, but didn’t help the queasy feeling in her stomach. The General and his two supporters continued on to greet her father, while his bodyguard stationed himself in the middle of the foyer.

She was hoping they could all sit at the dining room table so she wouldn’t have to walk so much, and have the evening end sooner, but it seemed that her father wanted the cocktail hour to be prolonged. Courtney pasted a smile on her face and went to join the small group enjoying drinks in the game room.