NINE

From his seat, travelling at 600mph, 43,000 feet above sea level, Ramon Diablo stared out vacantly through his window, looking at nothing in particular. Out in the distance he could almost make out Panama City edging closer and closer. It was somewhere just over the horizon now.

The twin-engine Cessna Citation X passenger jet had served as a comfortable means of transportation from Bolivia. Ramon’s clients had spared no expense; they had even provided their own crew of flight attendants, who had brought each of Los Diablos a mid-flight meal and served them drinks on request. This had suited Eduado just fine; over the course of the flight the big man had downed an entire case of a Bolivian beer called El Sustancia, along with two full bottles of Japanese sake, and he had hardly shut up the entire time.

Sebastian and Rosaria had sat together for almost the entire flight, slobbering all over each other, their tongues coiled.

“I don’t know about the rest of you,” Sebastian said as he finally pushed Rosaria away and came up for air, “but I for one can’t stand flying. Right now our lives are at the mercy of a machine. All our skills mean nothing. If one small thing were to go wrong inside this big heap of airborne metal then we’d all be dead.”

Eduado turned to him with a pissed-off glare. “Well, aren’t you just one to inspire confidence, Speedy! Here we are enjoying ourselves, having a nice relaxing flight, and you have to go and bring up the subject of plane crashes. Obviously in your case, a big dick does not a big brain make.”

“I wasn’t aware you’d ever seen me without pants on, Eduado,” Sebastian chuckled.

“What are you talking about? I’ve walked in on you and Rosaria dozens of times. I even made a video once. Now, you’re not quite as big as me, Speedy, but you’re not exactly a mouse either.”

"Let's never speak of this again."

“Getting back to the topic at hand...” Rosaria injected herself into the conversation. “Statistically speaking, Speedy, the chances of a plane such as this ever actually crashing are even lower than those of choking to death on one of Eduado’s used condoms. And you know there’s no chance at all of that. Firstly, because Eduado never gets laid. And secondly, because Eduado never slips one on when he’s pleasing himself.”

“Aha!” Eduado laughed at that. “I knew your girl was more than just a pretty face. And a caliente pedazo de culo!”

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Eduado?!” Rosario’s smile darkened into a scowl.

“What?” Eduado smiled sheepishly. “Are you so stuck-up you can’t even take a compliment?!”

“There’s a difference between giving a woman a compliment and just being an obnoxious arse.”

“Really?” Eduado rolled his eyes. “And when did you become such an uptight feminist, Rosaria?!”

“On the very same day that you took it upon yourself to become an odioso cerdo!” Rosaria shot back.

Eduado roared out laughing. “Ha, on that day you wouldn’t even have been born yet, sweetheart.”

Across from them, Ramon Diablo decided not to bother chiming in. He had never been one to partake in unnecessary banter or small-talk. His eyes remained fixated out over the horizon.

A few minutes after the plane completed its touchdown on a private runway at Tocumen International Airport and the four Guerrero passengers disembarked. They were guided across the landing strip by their flight attendant towards a convoy of waiting limousines, and a cheerful Japanese man who greeted them there.

“It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Los Diablos,” the Japanese man said warmly. “Everything has been arranged to ensure your stay with us will be most comfortable. Our driver will take you to your residence now, so you may get some rest. My client will phone you there later on tonight with your final instructions.”

Ramon Diablo nodded on the group’s behalf, deeming the terms acceptable.

“Right this way, please.” The Japanese man rested a hand on the Guerrero’s shoulder, guiding Ramon and his team over to their waiting cars.

***

Up on the third floor of a roach-infested hotel, the crispy-skinned Guerrero known as Leon Sphinx had also recently made his arrival in Panama City. He had parted ways with his Japanese clients at Tocumen International Airport, leaving them with a contact number to reach him when required. Leon had felt it better that he travelled in and around Panama City alone. This would ensure he would not draw any unwanted attention to himself or his clients before he was set to begin his work.

The choice of accommodation had been Leon’s own as well. The hotel was secluded, it was cheap and it required no forms of personal identification to be admitted in there, thus ensuring that no unnecessary questions would be asked of him. The room was simple: there was no television set or mini-bar; the bed was single, comfortable enough, but barely hotel-worthy; and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a night table beside the bed and a dresser over by the window. This suited Leon just fine. He didn’t need the distractions. Leon was here for one reason only: Sierra Rico.

Leon took a look at himself in the mirror. He still yet to come to grips with his appearance since the fire. His entire body was now wrapped up completely from head-to-toe with bandages to protect his burns from infection; he looked like some kind of stereotypical Egyptian mummy from a bad horror film. The only openings over his entire body were the two holes for his nostrils, a slit for each of his eyes and another for his mouth. He also wore a pair of cheap black jeans and a long, emerald-green trench coat, which would help him conceal his weapons in public, once he went to work.

Leon opened up his briefcase and began checking his tools that his clients had supplied for the job. He grinned as he began piecing together his silenced MP-5 submachine gun. Once it had been assembled he rammed in a full clip of ammunition and practiced his aiming. The red beam of his laser-sight scope glowed across the walls of the darkened room.

That’s right, Sierra Rico, he thought with a smile. I’ve clawed my way back from the darkness of purgatory, and now I’m coming for you!