Page 31 of Depths of Destruction

"Stop wishing. You do."

"How old are you?"

"An old man."

She purses her lips. "Funny. How old?"

"Forty-five."

"How long have you done this?"

"I was in the Marines for ten years then Interpol recruited me."

"You like it?"

"Love it. But my contract is up soon. I've been thinking of doing something different."

"Wouldn't you miss it?"

"Parts of it."

"What about the adrenaline rush?"

I chuckle and admit, "How do you know me so well?"

"Doesn't take a genius to figure it out. You'd have to be an adrenaline junkie to do what you do."

We walk in silence for a while.

"What made you go after this story?" I ask her.

"The people of Belize."

"What do you mean?"

"Our murder rate is going up from the activities of men like Jonas Torres and Santiago Gómez. When I first came across some evidence, it was almost three years ago. One thing led to another, and I continued investigating. I couldn't stop. I became obsessed with getting the truth out to the public."

"Pretty brave."

"Lots of good it's going to do now. My boss wouldn't even run it anonymously."

"There are a lot of ways to get stories out. If that's what you want, I have no doubt you will."

"Hopefully."

We continue making our way south. The muggy air causes our clothes to cling to our bodies. The terrain is muddy at times and dry at others. Several times, I pick Naomi up and carry her since the ground is so mushy, my boots sink up to my ankles. The sounds of monkeys and birds screeching follow us most of the way.

"Where is home?" she asks.

"That's a good question." I hold back a tree branch for her to step past.

"You don't have a home?"

"I'm on the move a lot for my job, traveling all over the world. I own places in France, Italy, and Bulgaria."

"Really?"

"Yeah."