22

Jack

 

 

Ciudad Del Este, Paraguay

 

 

Jack towered over the pedestrians as he moved down the street in the Taiwanese section of the city. He couldn’t make out the words written in Chinese characters. He was relying on his GPS to get him where he needed to be. He pushed through a glass door, and then through a beaded curtain to get into the main bar area. Chairs were stacked on tables and a man pushed a mop over the floor. The worker hadn’t yet cleaned the spot where Jack was walking. His boots held then released with each step, making squishing sucking noises as he paced forward.

Behind the bar stood a heavily tattooed Englishman, slicing lemons. He glanced up as Jack approached.

“Mac?” Jack said with a grin.

“Son of a bloody gun,” Mac moved haltingly down the counter and around the end of the bar, grabbing Jack into a hug. “Ah, it’s good to see you, mate. How’ve you been keeping?” He backed away and lifted his chin to look Jack in the eye.

“You’re taller than I remember,” Jack said.

Mac laughed and reached down to point at his feet. Titanium legs showed beneath the man’s camping shorts. “When they blew my legs off, I got me a new pair. The doc said I could be any length I wanted so I went from what you Yanks would call five-eight to six feet tall. I tried for a little taller than that, but the doc said I’d look like I was wearing stilts. The chicks dig it though. It’s true what they say about tall lads getting the girls.”

Jack laughed. “Hey, I could use something to drink. You open for business?”

“Not for another hour, yet. Come over, grab a stool, and I’ll snag you a cold one. Put some hair on that girly chest of yours, heh? So what’s with the leg? Why’re you hobbling on crutches?” Mac moved behind the bar.

“Eh, flesh wound. I use the crutches for sympathy. Nice place you’ve got here,” Jack said, taking in the pictures of naked girls that had been pulled out of men’s magazines and taped to the walls. Dancing poles dotted the open space, and there were lipstick and handprint stains on the walls.

“It’s a shit hole.” Mac pulled a beer from the fridge under the bar and popped the top off before setting it, frosty cold, in front of Jack. “What are you doing in the armpit of the world, mate?”

Jack took a long swig, relishing the way the carbonation cut through the grit and pollution that tickled his throat. He looked around to see where the cleaner had gone. Seeing him working on the other side of the room, Jack pulled out his phone. “I need some intel. I have one, possibly three missing persons in the area.”

“One maybe three, huh?” He reached out. “That’s Suz,” he said. “You still with her?”

Jack didn’t know. Was he? “She was spotted going into Tatí Yupí but not coming out.”

“That happens with an alarming frequency.” Mac rubbed at his chin. “Panthers and the like make quick work of bodies and the bones get spread around.” Mac put both hands on his head. “Shit. That’s not what I should have said. It’s just . . .”

“I’ve heard about its reputation. I’m not clear on what’s going on down here. I’m trying to catch up with Suz.”

“You said maybe three.”

“Two boys. Here.” Jack swiped the phone to reveal a recent photo of the twins.

“Her kids?”

“The one on the right is her student. There was a high profile snatch and grab at their school.”

“I don’t want too many details,” Mac said and put his hands up.

“There’s another guy that we think is involved, he goes by the name Samuel Jones. Got anything on him?”

Mac reached for the phone again, and he scowled at the photo. “Yeah, I know him. That there is Simon Zoric. Slovakian. His family has ties to the Russians working in the area and by extension Hezbollah. Most of their finances pass through the financial systems down here.”

“Any ideas where I can catch up with that guy?”

Mac tilted his head to the side. “I’ll make some calls.”

Jack tipped back the last of his beer and put the empty on the bar.

“Another?”

Jack shook his head. “I’d love another, but later. Look, I need a safe place to stay and some equipment. Do you think you can hook me up?”

Mac nodded and made his way down a corridor to the door marked “Office.” He moved to a locked closet. He pushed the clothing to the side to reveal another door. He moved through the passageway, then up some stairs with Jack at his heels. There was a sparse clean room with light cancelling curtains over the windows and buzzing overhead fluorescent lighting. Eight bunks lined the room four on each side with a wide walkway between them. It reminded Jack of boot camp.

“The loo is in the back. You’ll find the necessities back there and not much more. Water’s reliably cold. If you get any warmth out of the damned thing, then you hit the jackpot. You have your pack with you?”

“I’ll bring it when I come back later.”

“Keys are on the peg board.” Mac pointed to the light switch where eight neck chains hung with a single key on each. “So now, about getting you kitted up. What do you need? I can get you most anything up to a nuclear bomb. I might even be able to get you that if need be, but it’ll take a few days to make arrangements.”

Jack grinned. “Ha, well for now I’ll just do with the basics.” He checked his watch. “I’m going to go round up my bag. I’ll be back before you open. Should I use the bar door?”