I had nothing on my agenda for the next day, so I stayed in the hotel and caught up on work. Needing a break from some environmental mitigation plans, I went down to the pool for a few laps and a bite to eat. Even though the day was quite breezy it was still hot and muggy. Slipping into the water felt great, and before I knew it my self-allotted hour was up.

After toweling off and donning the fluffy hotel robe, I made my way over to the pool bar area for a light lunch.

“You cut quite a spectacular figure in the pool,” Emiliano, the Very Interesting Man, said from his table in the shade.

“Thanks, I guess,” I told him, opting for my own table instead of joining him at his, which he’d seemed to expect.

“You swam for a full hour,” he continued. “Not many could manage such a thing.”

I shrugged. “The key is to not stop,” I told him.

“Ah, it seems I am unwanted this afternoon. Forgive me. Let me leave you to dine in peace,” Emiliano said.

“Thanks,” I replied. “Sorry, but I’m not in the mood for conversation right now.”

Giving me an understanding nod, he turned back to his laptop and resumed whatever it was he’d been doing before I showed up.

I ordered a “New York Panini” and large bottle of sparkling water to take back up to my suite, rather than stay there in the heat and humidity of the patio under the midday sun.

Back in front of my computer, I shot Grant a text asking if he had any contacts that might know about any ‘letter agency’ assets in Colombia, and if Grupo Logístico de Colombia might be a front.

Emiliano probably was exactly what he said, but still… Maybe Grant’s contacts in MI might be willing to let a little intel slip to an old friend.

“I’ve put the question out there”, Grant replied before too long. “I’ll let you know if I hear anything”.

Satisfied that avenue of investigation was being followed, I got back to work.

During dinner with the in-laws that night I asked Rafael if he knew anything about Emiliano and Grupo Logístico.

“The common assumption here in Colombia is that any shipping company is a front for the CIA and the cartel,” he said. “I don’t believe that the big ones are in bed with the CIA and the cartel. but…”

“So you’ve never heard of this Emiliano Suárez?” I asked.

“No, I have not,” he admitted. “But I know people who might. I will ask tomorrow.”

That night, sipping aguardiente in the courtyard with Rafael, I asked him something that had been bothering me.

“Can I ask you something, knowing that it’ll never go farther than just the two of us? You seem to have a whole lot of connections. Angela said that you know everybody, but I get the idea it might run a bit deeper than that,” I said.

Rafael let out a long breath. “It is a complicated story,” he said, leaning back and resting an arm on the back of his chair. “You have been honest with me about things… Unusual things, and so I feel I can tell you some things about my life. Things that I am certain Marisa knows, but we have never spoken of. Our daughters know nothing of this, and I would prefer to keep it that way,” he said, giving me a look. I nodded, and, understanding, he continued.

“My time in the military… I was an officer in our elite counterinsurgency force. My unit specialized in urban actions. We were very highly trained, but even so we had a high… attrition rate. It was very dangerous, and there was always a concern about corruption and the question in the back of everybody’s mind was who among us had been turned.” Rafael paused to enjoy another sip of his drink. “When Marisa became pregnant the first time, I knew I had to resign my commission. I would not leave my wife a widow. But let me say this, and Grant can confirm- you can never really leave. Even if you resign and return to the civilian life, your old friends will still call on you. Your old commanders will stop by your house to gently remind you that you still owe them your loyalty, and to make it clear that they will require it of you sooner or later.”

“I do understand that,” I agreed. “My father was in the American Special Forces.”

“Angela told me that he was killed in Iraq,” Rafael said. “That is a terrible thing to happen to a young family. Precisely what I did not want for my young wife and child. But to answer your question, many of my ‘connections’ are friends from the army, men I served with. Men who I would trust with my life- have trusted with my life, and me theirs. Some are still in the military, but many, like me, have chosen paths with less violence. Arturo, the man whose boat we used? He’s a security consultant for Marriott Hotels. The man I would ask about this Emiliano Suárez of yours? Military intelligence. So yes, I do know a lot of well-connected people through my time in the armed forces. But also, my family is large and we have been here for hundreds of years. Through my life here in Cartagena I know the man who runs the restaurant on the corner, or the boxing gym in the poor part of the city, or the woman leading the walking tours of the walled city. I do not know everyone in this city of almost one million souls, but I do know a significant percentage.”

“That makes sense,” I admitted. “So I’m guessing you’re likely to hear if that Cardeño asshole shows up in town, right?”

“I would hear about it,” he nodded. “Probably within hours.”

“How much trouble would it cause if he disappeared?”

“Too much,” Rafael said with a sigh. “Otherwise it would have happened already.”

“Alright. I’ll shelve those plans, then. Angela is well out of his reach for now anyway, so even if he does come here to the coast to look for her there’s nothing he can do. As much as I’d be willing to have my guys bury him out in the jungle somewhere…” I said.

“There is a lot of jungle where bodies can be buried,” Papá agreed, leaning back, his glass in his hand.

I worked the next morning until it was time to go to the airport to pick up my guys. They created quite a stir, everybody pausing for at least a moment or two to stare at the group of fifteen well-dressed, fit-looking men and women moving together with a purpose. Of course, the fact that all but one were as black as night had something to do with it, too.

“Thanks for getting this organized so quickly,” I told Michael, shaking his hand. “And thanks to the rest of you guys for coming down here. This was unexpected, but it’s a huge deal.”

“You said jump,” Jody said. “We jumped.”

“Alright,” I said to Michael as we walked to the taxi stand. “Who’s going to run this op?”

“Ricky and Jody,” he replied.

“How long can you stay?” I asked.

“As long as I’m needed, but I don’t speak Spanish, so I don’t know how much help I’ll actually be here,” Michael answered. “But at least I can get things organized.”

“Perfect. That’s all I need.”

I’d booked rooms for a few nights in a three star hotel on the south side of the walled city for the crew, so we went directly there. After getting everybody settled, we regrouped in the hotel’s rooftop restaurant for a late lunch.

I explained everything as I knew it to Michael, Jody and Ricky. I told them that I was lining up a couple of cars and a boat to use for the operation, and that once contact was made and we saw how things were going to go maybe we’d make some longer-term accommodations.

“I want a hitter with every outreach who isn’t with a group,” I told Jody. “I have no reason to expect any problems, but…”

“Gotcha,” he agreed. “We’re here to solve problems before they become problems.”

“Ricky, this is going to take a light touch. These Night Children have been getting along fine by themselves for a really long time and they have a certain amount of pride about accepting help. Only a few of the elders even understand the old language, but almost all recognize it when they hear it, from what I’ve seen. Emmy appealed to them by reminding them of the culture they’re forgetting but should be proud of. Just you guys walking around, showing your faces, might do a lot towards bringing them in,” I explained. “Our secondary agenda is to acclimate the day walkers of Cartagena to seeing Night Children, so when the locals do show their faces they won’t be a surprise. This means that we need to be everywhere. We need to be seen by as much of the population as we can manage. So- shopping malls, popular parks, busy street corners… You get the idea. Normally we just care about being seen by other Night Children, but not this time. Ricky,” I said, “tonight I want the group to split up and just wander around- be tourists in the tourist zone here. I’m gonna to be busy tonight working on arrangements with Angela’s dad.”

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“Angela’s father?” Ricky asked.

“He’s going to be a very, very important resource for us here, so you’ll be working with him a lot. He knows everything about this op, and just as importantly, he knows this town and has a network he can call on to help, no questions asked. If you need anything, ask him first. He can get it, or will know how to get it.”

“Understood,” Ricky confirmed.

“I’m going to try to set up something special for tomorrow night and Saturday. I’m gonna see if I can get watch parties for the Downfall livestreams at some of the really popular bars, and I want our people there watching. This fits in with our secondary agenda- getting the day walkers here used to seeing us, and connecting us with Emmy. We want the literally hundreds of local Night Children to see that they don’t need to hide. Even if they don’t accept my shadow, we want them to be free.”

“What can I do to help?” Michael asked.

“Just the same as everybody else. For today and tomorrow, be a tourist. Take the walking tour- the old city really is beautiful. Buy souvenirs for Jassie- in fact, bring her down here for a holiday if you want. We need to be seen as normal people, so…” I told him.

“You said there are hundreds of us here?” Ricky asked, still trying to process the idea.

I explained as much as I knew about the situation, adding that the locals had shown no sign of being anything other than peaceful. “This little town on the island- it’s pretty damned shabby, but not too dirty at all. There are a lot of really nicely done murals, too, so there’s a certain degree of pride of place. I’ve been chewing on the idea of how to generate jobs, but really, there are only two kinds of work on the island- fishing, and service work on the few small beach resorts. I’m not sure that appealing to their pride and then telling them to work as hotel maids or busboys is a great plan…”

“No, it might not be,” Michael agreed. “If they have a strong, viable community there, we don’t want to relocate them, either.”

“Exactly.”

After lunch, we broke up and wandered around the old parts of town in small groups. I reminded everyone that a hitter needed to be in every group before sending them on their way with the instruction of interacting as much as they could with the city.

Michael and I started off by strolling west a short block to the entrance of the biggest park in the walled city.

“It’s really hot and humid here,” he said, wiping his face.

“You’re a bit overdressed for the climate,” I teased.

“It wasn’t this warm in Baltimore,” he countered.

“We should get you some more appropriate clothing,” I said. “For everybody else on the team, too. Especially if they’re gonna be here for a while.”

“How long do you think this operation will take?”

“Honestly? It may be permanent for a few of our folks, in a sense. I’m not seeing this as being a matter of finding locals, offering them our shadow and then finding them places to live and whatever before moving on. These people have jobs, they have places to live, and they have a functioning community. Hey, look up there in that tree- I think that’s a sloth.”

We stopped and stared at the slow-moving animal for a minute.

“I’ve been told not to feed the monkeys,” I said, pointing out a tourist doing just that.

“It is very different here,” Michael mused.

We got some mango juice from a street vendor, then resumed walking.

“I’m thinking of renting some houses here for our crew. I’m not sure exactly where, though, and this is something that we’re going to have to give some thought to. Rafael suggested that funding schools and clinics might go a very long way to helping the locals, and I can definitely see that in the future.”

“Then we’re talking about three phases- the immediate, the short term, and the long term,” Michael said. “This is excellent juice,” he added, taking another sip.

“Right. The immediate is the most delicate. The medium and long term won’t even happen unless we get it right.”

As we wandered, we talked about various subjects, just catching up. It had been a while since we’d just talked, and it was good to simply chat like old friends. He told me he’d been giving some thought to relocating to New York as I’d suggested.

“You’re right about being closer to Jassie when she goes to Williams. If I’m in New York she can come down for holidays, or even just for the weekend if she wanted to,” he said.

“So you’ll need at least a two bedroom- probably three would be best,” I suggested. “Let me get started on looking for a place.”

“It’s presumptuous of me to even ask, but a walkable neighborhood would be good,” Michael said, thinking about living in New York.

“Of course,” I agreed.

As we walked I took note of who stared and who didn’t. Sure, there was a certain amount of looks because we were obviously well-off tourists, and some stared at me because I was a blonde woman who was taller than almost everybody else, but a number stared at Michael, too, and those were the ones I took closer looks at.

I thought I spotted a couple of Night Children in disguise, noticing them because they stared a bit too long at Michael but hardly gave me a glance.

“See the guy in the red T shirt over there?” I asked Michael as we passed a little plaza. “Selling the jewelry?”

“He might be,” agreed Michael, so we drifted over to the guy’s table. I made a show of examining the hand-crafted necklaces to give Michael time to examine the vendor a bit more closely.

“Ten dollars,” the man said when I held up a necklace made with tiny little shells.

Michael said something to the man in the old language, startling the guy. The jewelry vendor tried to hide his reaction, but it was too late.

Michael spoke again, but the guy shook his head. “No hablo ese idioma,” he protested.

“Do you speak English?” Michael asked.

“A little,” the guy said holding his index finger and thumb about half an inch apart to indicate ‘not very much at all’.

Michael took his handkerchief from his pocket. “You should not hide who you are,” he said, miming cleaning makeup from his own face. “Be proud of what you are.”

Flustered, the guy took a moment to realize that I was holding up two necklaces and handing him a twenty dollar bill.

He took the money, and wrapped the two necklaces individually in pieces of paper, then placed them in a little bag for me.

As he handed me the bag, I asked him his name.

“Marco,” he answered, still a bit off balance.

“Pleased to meet you, Marco,” I said, offering my hand, which he shook reflexively. “I’m Leah. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.” Just then I saw a couple of our guys enter the plaza from a side street, so I waved them over. “Jacob, Enrique, this is Marco. He’s one of us.”

Enrique started talking to the guy in Spanish, far too quickly for me to follow. Enrique indicated the four of us, then his own face. I caught something about “Niños de La Noche,” and “dignidad,” but that was about it. Marco argued back a little, but Enrique just shrugged. “A lo que quiere,” Enrique said.

I held up the bag to get his attention and smiled at Marco. “Thanks!” I said, and we turned and left as a group.

“How has it been going for you two?” I asked as we walked down a narrow street lined with colorful houses and shops.

“Good,” Enrique said. “I like it here.”

“It’s too hot,” grumbled Jacob.

“I was just telling Michael that everybody is going to have to buy new clothes for here,” I agreed. “So that’ll be part of the op’s budget.”

“It was thirty-four degrees when I left Denver,” Jacob said. “I’ll get used to it here, but it was straight from the freezer into the sauna.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” I agreed.

“So this is what we’re gonna do here? Just, like, walk around and try to spot other Night Children, and just, like, talk to them?” Enrique asked.

“For now, yeah. We want the locals to see that it’s O.K. to show their faces. We need to use a soft touch, and showing by example is the best way we can do it at first,” I explained.

That night Rafael commented during dinner that he’d seen some of my people in town.

“That’s the idea,” I said, helping myself to some more of Mamá’s cooking. “I just told them to wander around and be as visible as possible.”

“What do you mean? Who are your people?” Cecilia asked, puzzled.

“Cecy, can I ask you to do me a big favor? Let me know if any of your friends talk about the super, super black people they’ve seen. I mean black like Emmy or Tiny,” I asked her.

“Your people are black like that?”

“Yes,” I said.

“I’ll do it,” Cecilia agreed, “If I can come swim in your hotel’s pool tomorrow after school.”

“It’s a deal,” I agreed, reaching over the table to shake her hand. Then, realizing I should make sure, I added, “If it’s O.K. with Mamá and Papá.”

After dinner Rafael and I went out for a walk around the neighborhood. It had rained a bit that evening so it was extra humid, but a little bit cooler than it had been the last few days.

“I spoke with the owner of the bar you suggested- he has the technical requirements, but wants a fair bit of money to close it down for a private party on a Friday Night,” Rafael said as we strolled.

“I don’t want to close it to others- in fact, I’m hoping the place is packed. What matters to me is that the patrons all get to see Emmy performing and that they realize that there are people like her right there in the bar, watching along with them. The idea is to get everybody in Cartagena used to seeing Night Children in their daily lives, right? The more our guys are a visible part of the landscape, the more open the local Night Children will be to trying it for themselves.”

“That makes sense,” Rafael agreed. “Let’s walk over there now and talk to the man, if he’s there.”

“I wouldn’t mind a glass of that Dictador,” I replied, so we changed direction and picked up speed.

A few blocks later we came to a corner that had a number of cafes with outdoor seating. Dining together (very prominently, I might add) were Jody and Maggie. They were laughing and clapping for the busker guitarist who was standing where all the diners could hear his music. He was good, so I dropped a five spot in his guitar case as we passed. I gave Maggie and Jody a little nod, which they returned, but otherwise we didn’t interact.

“More of yours?” Rafael asked.

“Those are two of my hitters,” I confirmed.

“Even the woman?”

“Maggie’s gone to war for me before,” I said, looking around to make sure nobody could hear. “She has blood on her hands at my command. She’s battle tested.”

Rafael nodded, lost in thought. We walked together in companionable silence until we got to the same rum and chocolate bar where we’d met Ignacio and Raymundo.

The house band was already playing and the place was moderately busy when we arrived, but Ignacio noticed us and nodded hello from behind his drum set. We found a small table, and when the waiter brought us our menus and first pieces of chocolate, Rafael had a quick chat with him. A few minutes later the manager came out to talk.

Rafael and the manager talked back and forth for a bit, finally coming to an agreement.

“He says that you must pay the money the band would normally earn, so they are not hurt,” Rafael explained. I was actually planning on something like that anyway, with the requirement that they actually had to watch the livestream along with everybody else. It was important that Ignacio and Raymundo see sixty-five thousand Mexican fans screaming in adoration for one of their kind.

“Sure,” I agreed. “Make it clear I want the band here, and they can play before and after the livestream.”

In bed that night I had a FaceTime call with Emmy and Angela, which helped me fall asleep with sweet dreams. It wasn’t as good as having them to snuggle with, but it was much better than nothing.