“I still do not like this business with the illegal passports,” he said. “If they wish, they could turn you in at any time.”

“At least it’s a passport,” she said. “No one else was offering one.”

“I suppose.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Give me your phone, eh? I will put in all the family’s phone numbers, but also Mr. Sandoval and some allies in America like Mr. Ballantine and Mr. Johnson. If you get in any trouble, start calling, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to miss you, prima.” He glanced at Pilar and smiled. “Both of you. You definitely make life interesting.”

The last days were an endless farewell party. They went to all their favorite places, ate and drank and danced. On a day when the sea was calm, Nacio took them on a scuba-diving excursion that they weren’t technically qualified for since he wasn’t a licensed instructor. They marveled at the coral reefs, the jewel-toned fish, the startling moray eels, and the ability to linger in a translucent, underwater world.

“Wow!” In the boat, Pilar wrung salt water out of her hair. “Thank you, Nacio.” She kissed his cheek. “That was amazing.”

He beamed. “You do very good. Except for the eel.”

“They’re pretty scary.”

“See?” Loup said. “You can do anything, Pilar. Did you ever imagine you’d do something like this?”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “Did you?”

“No.” Loup looked around at the sparkling sea. “Seriously? No.”

“Me either.” Pilar smiled. “But I get what you mean. Thanks, baby.”

“Sure.” She eyed her. “You also look really, really hot in a wet suit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Nacio agreed. “Do not hit me, prima.”

“I won’t.”

On the morning of the fourth day, Magnus Lindberg called and left a message on Loup’s phone that he and Sabine would arrive to retrieve them the following day. The hotel was booked with other functions, but Tía Marcela exerted her considerable organizational skills and arranged for a last farewell party at one of the beachside restaurants.

They convened in the late afternoon. The sun still hovered well above the horizon, warming the sand. The cousins laughed and played and chased one another, delighting the watching tourists. In the water, the twins and Paco begged to be thrown.

“Ahora, ahora!” Daniel demanded, clambering up Loup’s body, agile and strong as a monkey. “Tú, prima!”

“Me? Now?” She caught his narrow foot in her hands.

“Sí!”

“Okay!” She sent him flying.

He chortled in midair, somersaulted, and landed in a compact splash.

“You okay?” Loup called. “Estas bien?”

“Claro!” Daniel surfaced, fearless.

Under the palapa, the twins’ mother, Dolores, spoke to Loup in earnest Spanish. She looked helplessly at Marcela, understanding only one word in ten.

“It is as I said,” Marcela said, her gaze warm and soft. “You are good with the boys, mija. You are more like their fathers than any of them, our wild boys. You have a care where they do not. You have faced limitations and they have not. She wishes you would stay. I wish you would stay.”

The part of Loup that missed her mother longed to say yes, but the restlessness and the empty feeling inside her wouldn’t allow it. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“I know.” Her aunt pressed a gentle kiss on her brow. “But you will come back and visit, yes?”

“Yeah, of course. As long as it’s safe.”

The sun sank below the horizon, gilding the waters. The restaurant staff lit torches that flung dancing shadows over the pitted sand. There was food, an abundance of food. Afterward the cousins burned off more of their restless energy by racing one another to the shoreline and back. Loup stood a little distance away, watching them.

“Sorry to leave, baby?” Pilar wrapped her arms around her from behind.

“Not exactly. I just never thought I would if I found them, you know?”

Pilar kissed her ear. “We can call it off.”

“No, I wanna try this. I do. At least it’s something. I can’t stand doing nothing.”

“Okay.” Her arms tightened. “Funny. You’re all the family I have in the world now.”

Loup turned. “You know I love you, right?” she asked, serious. “You know I’d never leave you?”

After a moment, Pilar nodded.

“Good.”

The evening ended with a surprise cake, singing, and many lingering farewells, but at last they dispersed into the night.

“I’m gonna miss it here,” Pilar said in the hotel room, gazing out the window at the moonlit harbor below. “I hope we can come back soon. Although you might have to knock Raimundo down again. He squeezed my ass when he hugged me.”

“Hmm.” Loup, lying on the bed, glanced at her. “You do have a pretty spectacular ass.”

“You’re not very chivalrous.”

“I’ll knock him down if he does it again.” She smiled. “Tired?”

Pilar gave her a smoldering look. “Nope.”

At noon the next day, a black limousine pulled into the hotel’s parking lot. Magnus Lindberg strode into the lobby, Sabine gliding behind him.

“How very good to see you again!” he said to Loup when the front desk summoned her. He shook her hand. “I’m so pleased you decided to accept our offer.”

“Thanks.”

“And Ms. Ecchevarria.” He flashed a smile at Pilar, who was rendered unaccustomedly tongue-tied by his polish and professionalism, and shook her hand. “We’re so very delighted to have you too.”

Behind him, Sabine gave a slight cough.

“Sabine.” Lindberg gave her a look. “Perhaps you would be good enough to see about a table for four? We can discuss the future over lunch.”

She strode off in the direction of the hotel restaurant.

“Jesus,” Pilar muttered.

“Told you,” Loup said.

Over lunch, he distributed their new passports to them. Pilar cracked hers open to see what her new name was.

“Pilar Mendez. Hey, I got to keep my first name!”

“It’s not so unusual as to attract attention,” Magnus Lindberg said to her. “Yours, on the other hand, Loup…”

She opened it. “Guadalupe Herrera?”

He shrugged. “Lupe is a common nickname. Close enough?”

“Yeah, sure.” She closed it. “So what happens next?”

“After lunch, we will drive to the airport. We have reservations for a five o’clock flight to Aberdeen.”

“Aberdeen?”

Sabine curled her lip.

Lindberg ignored her. “It’s in Scotland. We have a facility north of there where the two of you will undergo an intensive four-month course of training.”

“Scotland, huh?”

“You know, baby,” Pilar offered. “Kilts and bagpipes.”

“Oh, right.”

“Yes,” Lindberg agreed smoothly. “Though I fear you will see little of either. You will learn hand-to-hand combat skills, marksmanship, surveillance and threat assessment, containment and damage control, evasive maneuvers… ah, do either of you know how to drive a car?”

They shook their heads.

“That, too.” He nodded at Sabine. “Sabine here is a highly skilled driver. She has competed in a number of amateur European touring cups.”

She looked smug.

“During your training program, all your needs will be provided for,” Lindberg continued. “If you graduate successfully, each of you will receive a ten thousand euro signing bonus. Subsequent to graduation, your wages will be dependent on commission.” He glanced at their puzzled expressions. “The money you earn will depend on how high a fee we’re able to command for your services, dependent on the difficulty and duration of the job in question.” He steepled his fingers and smiled. “I expect to be able to command very, very high fees for you, Loup.”

“But we work as a team, right?”

He sighed. “At your insistence, yes.”

“What happens if we don’t make it through the training?” Pilar asked.

“Ah.” Lindberg looked grave. “I fear we cannot hire you. However, we are not ungenerous. We will gladly pay your airfare back to Huatulco or your destination of choice.” He hesitated, tapping his fork on the edge of his plate. “Pilar, if you find yourself unsuited for this line of work, I would hope you would not stand in Loup’s way. This is a great opportunity for her.”

“It’s a great opportunity for you,” she retorted. “C’mon! You’re dying to get your hands on her. How much of our fee do you pocket?”

It startled a genuine smile from him. “It’s negotiable, depending on demand.”

She folded her arms. “So when the time comes, we’ll negotiate. Okay, I might not be cut out to be the best secret agent bodyguard in the world, but I care about Loup and you don’t. And I don’t think you exactly get that whole can’t-feel-fear thing. So yeah, that makes me fuckin’ suited for this job.”

“She’s right,” Loup agreed.

Sabine made a strangled sound. “You are not going to be a secret agent,” she said in accented but fluent frustration. “We are bodyguards. Nothing more. We provide executive protection to an exclusive clientele. And you, not even that.”

“Okay, assistant. Whatever.”

“I dunno.” Loup flicked the edge of her new passport. “Fake identities and forged documents? Seems pretty secret agenty to me.”

“They’re not forged,” Magnus Lindberg observed. “Illegitimate, but not forged. I had to call in a number of markers for this favor. We are taking a considerable chance on you. And yes, it is because I believe it will be very lucrative for all of us. Are you still willing to take a chance on us?”