He said, “What do you mean?”
Omar came forward, leaving the two men next to one of the duffel bags, both of them swaying from the booze. The Ghost almost shouted at him to remain, then resigned himself to the debacle. He waited for Omar to reach him, then said, “What is he talking about?”
Omar looked at the men on the boat and said, “What was that about payment? We already paid you.”
“There’s been a change of the payment. We want that delivered to the location we sent. When that’s done, and our man texts us he has it, we’ll tell you where the location of your shipment is.”
“That’s not what we agreed upon!”
“Well, that’s what it is now. We sent all this to Cyrus yesterday. When we didn’t get a response, we took that as approval.”
The Ghost heard a shout on the shore and saw one of the men had opened a duffel bag. He was holding a package the size of a brick, the entire thing wrapped in tape, and dancing about. The Ghost cursed again, turned to Omar and said, “Deal with this. Now,” then stalked to the shore.
He met the man holding the brick, and in broken English, the man said, “You guys are getting ready for a big party.”
The other man giggled and the Ghost turned on his light, shining it at the duffel, bathing it in a red glow and saying, “See what else is in there.”
The man bent down, and the Ghost withdrew the ice pick from the sleeve holding the flashlight. He leaned down and jammed it into the base of the man’s skull, driving it forward until it met the man’s skull on the opposite side, the heavy plate of bone at the forehead stopping his thrust. The man flung his arms out and fell face down, his legs twitching spasmodically. He said not a word.
The Ghost withdrew the pick and turned to the other man, seeing him standing in a drunken stupor, shock on his face. The man turned and began shambling back to the trees. He made it ten feet before he tripped in the rocks and sprawled forward, bashing his head. Dazed, he rose to his knees, the blood from a gash on his forehead flowing freely down his face. He put a hand up, mumbling in Spanish. The Ghost reached him and grabbed a fistful of hair, bending his head forward and holding it steady.
He repeated the killing blow, gripping the handle until the spasms subsided, then pulling the spike of steel out.
He wiped the ice pick and stood up, seeing Omar staring at him. He stalked back into the water, reaching him at the bow of the boat and saying, “What are we doing?”
Omar stuttered for a second, then said, “He made a deal with Cyrus. I didn’t know about it. Our equipment is here, in Buenos Aires, but we must deliver these duffel bags to get it.”
The Ghost looked up at the bow and said, “Describe this shipment. What did you bring?”
The man on the boat said, “Did you just ice those two guys? Kill them right here?”
Deadpan, the Ghost said, “Yes. Describe the shipment.”
The man on the boat looked at his friend, then returned to the Ghost, saying, “Two Pelican cases, each about three feet long and two feet deep, and a duffel bag full of tripods and cables.”
“What was in the Pelican cases?”
The man chuckled and said, “I don’t know. They were locked. You guys have the combination, not me.”
The Ghost looked at Omar and said, “Does that sound right?”
Omar nodded, saying, “Yes. That’s our shipment.”
The Ghost said, “Okay. Give him your number.”
“Why?”
“We’re running short of time. I don’t want to wait on a relay from Cyrus.”
He turned to the boat and said, “You have a deal, with one condition.”
“What?”
“Give us the location you sent Cyrus so we don’t waste more time, and you take those two bodies in return. Dump them on your way back.”
The man conferred with his friend, then said, “Okay, okay.”
They jumped into the water, Omar gave the leader his cell phone number, and together, all four of them struggled to load the bodies onto theboat. When it was done, the Ghost threw them their bowline and said, “If we don’t get our equipment, I will personally come find you.”
