Leon stopped in his tracks as Alvarez tossed a set of large photo prints on the table in front of him. “Look familiar?” Alvarez asked.

Leon picked up the pictures and studied them. They were pictures of him sitting in the stands at the track.

“So what?” Leon asked indignantly. “Are you trying to blackmail me? Going to the track isn’t illegal.”

Alvarez said nothing as he tossed two more pictures on the table. In them, Leon was giving cash to Rubio.

“So tell on me, I don’t fucking care. They’ll slap me on the wrist and make me get counseling. Big deal.” Leon was playing it off pretty well. Alvarez had to give it to him.

“I understand,” Alvarez said as he tossed two more pictures on the table. This time, the pictures were black and white and of him with a naked woman on top. “That doesn’t look like your wife.”

“I’m sure that bitch is cheating on me anyway, and you can’t prove this is illegal,” Leon replied, tossing the pictures back at Alvarez. “Now if you’ll get the fuck out of here, I’ve got an appointment.”

Alvarez smiled as Leon mentioned his cheating wife. If he only knew.

“About that gambling thing,” Alvarez said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Ten thousand dollars in the hole this month. Ten thousand last month. Five thousand dollar debt to Juan Rubio at 60% interest. Twenty one hundred dollars left to your name. I don’t think Mr. Rubio or his associates will accept Gamblers Anonymous as payment, Agent Leon.”

Leon stumbled back and sat back down on the couch. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“My name is Victor,” Alvarez responded. “And I would like to make all your problems go away.”

“I’m listening,” Leon said, cautiously leaning forward.

Alvarez tossed a black duffle bag to Leon’s feet. He waited as Leon unzipped the top and pulled out a stack of neatly packaged $100 bills.

“There’s one hundred thousand dollars in cash in that bag, Agent Leon,” Alvarez said as he sat back and crossed his legs. “You can use that to pay off your debt to Mr. Rubio. After that, you are done with that track. You will then receive ten thousand dollars per month. All cash, of course.”

“In exchange for what? Why would you do this?” Leon asked, thumbing through the bills.

“Friendship.”

“Friendship?”

Alvarez stood and extended his hand to Leon. “I would like your friendship, Special Agent. That is all.”

Leon stared at the outstretched hand. He considered it for a moment, and then grabbed Victor’s hand, shaking it as he stood. Alvarez seemed to tower over the short little man.

“To friendship,” Leon said with a crooked smile.

“You’ve made the right choice,” Alvarez responded, patting Leon on the shoulder with his free hand.

Cal "Spectre" Martin

First Impressions

Warning Area 465

Atlantic Ocean

15 September 2007

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“Gator 11 is ready.”

“Gator 12 is ready,” he replied as he wiggled his fingers around the throttle and sidestick of his F-16. He was fixated on his flight lead, a mile and a half down his wingline directly to his right.