Fabricio shrugged, a sad little smile playing on his mouth. “It was a long time ago. I don’t really think about it much anymore.”

The seconds ticked by, Fabricio fidgeting nervously, eyes flicking to the door. Kovit twirled his switchblade in his hand, pensive, and Nita ticked through the to-do list items on her plans, trying to see if she’d missed anything, trying to plot where things could go wrong.

When the knock finally came, Fabricio nearly jumped out of his skin. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants, his breathing harsh and frightened.

Nita felt a moment of pity for him. She recognized that terror. It was a feeling she knew well.

Before she could think through her action, she put her hand on Fabricio’s shoulder. “We got this.”

He stared at her, breathing slowing, and he gave her a slight smile. “Nita, you’re trying to comfort me again. Careful, I might think you have a heart.”

She scowled and jerked her hand away.

Then she went to the door and opened it.

A man in his early fifties stood at the entranceway checking his phone. His gray hair was smoothed back from his face with a bit of gel, and he was clean shaven with cold brown eyes and lightly tanned skin, a little darker than Fabricio. His clothes reeked of money, all of them tailored to fit, and his watch alone probably cost more than the hotel.

He blinked when Nita opened the door, then frowned.

“Ah, I must have the wrong room,” he said, voice deep, his Spanish the same cadence as Fabricio’s.

“No.” Nita smiled, reaching forward, grabbing his hand, and yanking him inside. “You came to the right place.”

Kovit descended the moment he was inside, knife at Alberto’s throat, hand twisting one of the older man’s arms behind his back painfully, voice whispering threats of all the things he’d do. Nita shut the door behind them as Kovit led their prisoner to the chair Almeida had died in yesterday. Alberto was rigid with fear, Adam’s apple bobbing against the knife, and his movements were stiff as he followed Kovit’s directions. He didn’t scream or flail or fight, he just watched and obeyed, all his movements careful and calculated.

They bound him quickly with duct tape while Fabricio watched, frozen, his whole body stiff with terror. His eyes, wide and nervous flicked to his captive father and then away, as though he couldn’t quite face what he was doing. Nita wondered if he was having second thoughts. Too late now.