The other two women were taller, fitter, and better at it. They’d gone into the water with the sleek efficiency of experts, barely making a splash and arrowing along for many yards before settling into mechanical crawls. Lifting their heads every other stroke to take quick breaths. One was a woman from Cameroon who had intensely dark skin and a shaved head, and the other was a strawberry blonde wearing a tight swim cap. All three wore Olympic-style swimsuits with racer backs. Santoro had not bothered to learn their names. He did not care to dive into the endless river of beautiful women who came and went through Kuga’s Playroom. Like so many things, Santoro’s sexual life was kept private, and he found fleshy excess quite distasteful.

As if reading his thoughts, Kuga said, “Can you at least pretend to enjoy the fucking view?”

Kuga was shirtless and wore a tight and skimpy red Speedo that was clearly chosen because it displayed his phallus to great effect. His body had long since lost the pallor of prison and was now an even golden brown. Kuga wore a white ship captain’s cap with the brim tugged down to shade his face and a pair of Dita Epiluxury Black Palladium sunglasses. A short red-and-white swizzle stick bobbed between his teeth when he spoke.

“Yes,” drawled Santoro without enthusiasm, “quite charming.”

Kuga snorted. “Pretty sure none of these broads ever went to charm school.”

Santoro declined to comment. Another thing he disliked were degrading epithets. Kuga apparently knew this and had recently begun using them more often.

The sky above the pool was a faultless blue, with no trace of haze or clouds. A few birds rode the thermals high above. Santoro squinted up, shielding his eyes with his hand. Were they vultures? He thought so. How odd. How lovely.

“Not exactly sure why you have a stick up your ass today, buddy,” said Kuga, “but I can take a guess.”

“Oh, please enlighten me,” said Santoro.

“You think I’m wasting valuable time watching three fuck-bunnies play splish-splash when I should be working on the American Operation.”

Santoro said nothing.

“You don’t have a lot of faith in me, Rafael.”

“I have a great deal of faith in the operation we mapped out.”