Page 47 of Walking the Bird

“You may have something there, Reaper.” Zach praised as he watched Matt cut and paste a World War two submarine over the shadowed space, the image fitting perfectly.

“It would explain the need for so many pool pumps. I doubt the ballasts on a sub that old would still work.” Zach reasoned, the puzzle pieces slowly coming together inside his head. “And he wouldn't need air to surface since the resort was either built over it, or Manguez figured out a way to bury it.”

Spinning on his heels, “Ghost, can you see anything behind Eleni resembling the inside of a submarine?”

* * *

“So,you kill me then what? Alex may not want me, but I have connections to individuals who would slit your throat for practice.” It wasn't a complete lie; Stavros would question where’d she’d gone if only to know his files would remain hidden.

Spinning Eleni’s chair around, Derek searched her eyes. He’d rather claw out his own eyes than admit Eleni had hit a nerve. His research showed she had some mafia connection, and he’d considered having her bridge a relationship for him.

“You thought you were special, didn’t you? Having a man like me paying attention to a fat bitch like you? A plan B for when Alex finally got the balls to leave you for a younger version.”

“He would—”

“Havoc is a motherfucking whore.” Derek interrupted, elation filling his chest as the truth came flooding out. “He has, and will continue to, fuck anything with a pussy.”

“How did you—”

“Know his call sign?” Derek finished Eleni’s question, raising an eyebrow in challenge. “I was there when he got it.”

Eleni refused to believe the lies coming from Derek’s mouth. Alex shared how he got his call sign with her during the time they were dating.

“You’re a SEAL?”

“Was.” Derek leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your husband and his misfit friends got my trident taken away.”

Eleni hoped Melinda and Cade would go find Alex. Knowing she’d need to buy some time, “So how did you end up here? I mean your life can’t suck too bad; you own a luxury resort.”

Chuckling, “After I had my life taken from me, I called an associate of mine who, as a result of your husband's misplaced morals, I owed a substantial amount of money to.”

Lifting his leg, Derek slid onto the corner of the desk, balancing himself on his left hand.

“He offered me an opportunity to work off the money I owed him. I showed up on the dock to this resort, and as I suspected, it was a trap. He must have forgotten the caliber of man he was dealing with, so when he tried to kill me, I took the knife from him, driving it between his eyes instead. I spent time on his boat, long enough to discover the deal he had with me was nothing compared to the kind of volume he was moving. I returned to the States long enough to fake my death, before returning to this resort. Took me three days before I could locate this place.” Waving his arms around the room.

“Wait,” Eleni held up her hand. “You were a SEAL and working with a drug dealer? Isn't that a conflict of interest?” She’d heard the stories from Alex, fellow SEAL’s who’d chosen to fill their pockets with deals made with the enemy they were ordered to eliminate.

“You make it sound dirty, Eleni. It's no different than the books you cook for those less than stellar clients you work with.”

“There’s a big difference, Der…” Eleni stopped mid-sentence. “What is your real name?” She demanded, her words clipped and eyes full of rage.

“You can call me, Diablo.”

“I could call you motherfucker,” Eleni tossed, using what she labeled Alex’s favorite word in the dictionary.

“Not if you want to live to tell about it.”

Throwing her hands up in the air, “You going to kill me anyway. At least tell me your name so I know who the hell to come back and haunt.”

Buy more time, Eleni. She internally chanted. It’s the best plan for your survival.

“I was born Miguel Arebo Sanchez-Manguez.”

“And your call sign?”

Eleni internally celebrated when she saw Miguel clench his back teeth; she’d hit a nerve, a big one.

“Maverick,” he mumbled.

“Bullshit.”

“What do you mean, bullshit?” Miguel returned in a mocking tone.

Leaning forward, “I’ve been married to a SEAL for a long time. I’ve heard the stories and seen the scars. Either your call sign is embarrassing to you, or you’re lying through your goddamn teeth about being a SEAL. Which is it, Miguel?” Eleni challenged, using the same condescending tone as his given name left her lips.

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