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Finn thought it over. “It might be. I wish I knew what the Federal Police were planning so we could synchronize our actions with theirs. I don’t want to make a move if they have something better in mind.”

“If they did,” Ryan said, “they would have put it to use by now.”

Finn sighed in frustration. She hated not knowing what was going on outside the resort, but she hated the loss of control even more. No matter what exotic locale or unusual circumstance in which she found herself in the past, she had always been free to make her own decisions. She had always been in control of her own life. Until now. This experience was a first for her. And one she would rather not repeat. But this experience had also allowed her to meet Luisa. That was ample reason to do it all over again.

“How long do you want to wait?” Katie asked.

Finn looked at her watch. Two hours had passed since Javier issued his ultimatum, which meant the Federal Police had four hours left to grant his request or he would randomly execute someone else. Should they try to save themselves now or wait for the Federal Police to rescue them? She told herself to be smart. Doing something rash might get someone killed. But so could doing nothing at all, if Sasha’s senseless death was any example.

“There’s no time like the present,” Ryan said. “Is everyone ready?”

Everyone nodded. Everyone except Aurora. She had offered to provide a distraction, but Finn didn’t think her present condition was part of the ruse. Her face was ashen and her clothes were soaked with perspiration.

“Aurora, are you all right?”

Finn touched Aurora’s arm. Her skin, normally so warm, was clammy and cool.

“I’m fine,” Aurora said, though she looked and sounded far from it.

Her voice was weak and her chest heaved as if she had just finished a marathon. Her pulse raced beneath Finn’s fingers.

“No, you’re not. I think you need a doctor.”

Aurora tried to downplay Finn’s concerns.

“I just got a little overheated. I’ll be fine as soon as the air comes back on.”

But the air conditioner still wasn’t running and the temperature in the room continued to climb.

“We can use this,” Ryan said under her breath.

Finn took another look at Aurora, who seemed to be growing weaker by the second. Her eyelids were at half-mast and her head bobbed as if she might be losing consciousness.

“Whatever you have in mind, do it. And do it fast.”

Ryan nodded and pushed herself to her feet.

“What are you trying to do,” she asked as the gunmen turned their weapons in her direction, “roast us to death?”

“Sit down and shut up.”

Javier paced the front of the room, his agitation growing each time the reading on the thermostat kicked up another degree.

“But this woman is in distress,” Ryan said. “She needs help.”

“Don’t make me come up there for nothing. Because if I find out you’re lying and she’s faking, I will kill both of you.”

Jill joined in. “Look at her. Does it look like she’s faking? She’s about to pass out. So are the rest of us.”

Dozens of women murmured in agreement. Everyone was suffering, but Aurora seemed to be affected by the oppressive heat the most.

“If you don’t do something,” Finn said, “you’re going to have another death on your hands.”

Javier waved one of his men over. Finn could see Ryan itching to try to overpower the man and take his gun, but two more of Javier’s henchmen held her and Jill at bay. The man placed the back of his hand on Aurora’s forehead, then pried her fluttering eyelids open with his thumbs. After he completed his amateur examination, he shook his head and backed away.

“So she is faking her ‘condition’?” Javier asked with a smirk.

“No, boss.” The man crossed himself and kissed the crucifix hanging around his neck. “I think she’s dying.”

“I pay you to follow orders,” Javier said. “I don’t pay you to think.”

Aurora didn’t look good, true enough, but Finn didn’t think she was as bad off as the man was making her out to be. Yet.

“Out of the way.”

Javier brushed past his men and adjusted the thermostat on the air conditioner. When the unit didn’t kick on, he cursed in Spanish, then slapped his hands against the wall and came over to take a look at Aurora himself.

“Now are you going to get her the help she needs?” Finn asked.

“She doesn’t need help. What she needs is to be put out of her misery.”

“But you won’t hurt her.”

“What?”

Finn sensed confusion in him. Confusion and uncertainty. When he looked at her, she saw the eyes of a scared little boy instead of a hardened killer. He looked like someone used to taking orders, not giving them. Now he was on his own. There was no one left to tell him what to do.

“Let her go. Let
us
go. It’s what your grandmother would want you to do.”

He snorted. “My grandmother is the reason we’re here.”

“But you’re in charge now. You can end this.”

His expression hardened. “I intend to. My way.” He grabbed Aurora’s chair and began to wheel her down the aisle.

“Where are you taking her?” Finn took a step toward him, but one of the gunmen shoved her back in her seat.

“You asked for my help, didn’t you?” Javier said. “I’m giving it to you. But I want something in return.”

When he reached for his cell phone, Finn wondered how high a price they would have to pay.

❖

Luisa was getting anxious. Based on the conversation she had just overheard between Director Chavez and President Enrique Peña Nieto, so was the government.

While the president didn’t want to pay the outrageous ransom Javier Villalobos had requested, he also didn’t want any repeats of the tragic scene that had played out on televisions across the country a few hours ago when Villalobos executed a hostage in full view of the news helicopters circling overhead. But, tellingly, he didn’t offer any advice on how to get the job done.

The president and the rest of his cabinet were already facing serious criticism for their actions following the disappearance and subsequent murder of nearly fifty first-year students enrolled in Ayotzinapa Rural Teachers College. On September 26, 2013, the students were ordered by a radical leftist group associated with their school to disrupt a party planned by María de los Ángeles Pineda, the wife of the mayor of Iguala, a small town in Guerrero. Mayor José Luis Abarca ordered local police to stop the students, who were traveling in stolen buses. After their motorcade was intercepted, the students threw rocks at the police, who responded with gunfire. Three students were killed on the spot. The rest were taken away and turned over to the members of a local drug cartel called United Warriors, who killed them and burned their bodies. The federal government claimed Mayor Abarca and his wife had ties to the United Warriors.

Though the government’s claims seemed to be legitimate, it didn’t help its cause during the search for the Ayotzinapa students when investigators uncovered several clandestine burial sites in Guerrero, announced the remains were those of the missing students, and were then proven wrong. The public was horrified, and the government was left with a public relations disaster, which only grew worse after the attorney general solved the case in record time, a rarity in a country where ninety-eight percent of murders went unsolved each year. More than seventy people were detained, including Mayor Abarca and his wife. Several people confessed to kidnapping and executing the students, but citizens launched protests and began demanding President Peña Nieto’s resignation. The protest leaders said the incident was a state crime and, as a result, the head of the Mexican state needed to resign.

President Peña Nieto defiantly refused to resign and promised to serve the rest of his six-year term, but the government was understandably afraid to use force against the demonstrators as they blockaded roads, stole vehicles, looted supermarkets, and set fire to government buildings. Would Luisa and her colleagues be forced to stand idly by while the Jaguars thumbed their noses at them, too?

“The president wants results, but how are we supposed to get them when we’re standing around with our dicks in our hands? Present company excepted.” Despite the tense situation, Director Chavez managed a smile as he reversed course. “Then again, you have a bigger pair of balls than some men I’ve commanded over the years. I could use more officers like you.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t let me go inside when Villalobos asked for me?”

“I talked you out of committing suicide. I wouldn’t let you on the street when you first got here because I said you needed to prove yourself to your fellow officers.”

“I’ve done that.”

“I know. You needed to prove yourself to them, but you never needed to prove yourself to me.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve believed in you from the moment your application came across my desk. I can tell you’ve got what it takes to be a great officer, but you need to learn one thing in particular in order to reach your potential.”

“What’s that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Restraint.”

Luisa had heard similar arguments from her parents over the years each time she attacked a problem head-on without thinking it through first. She had learned to take a more cerebral approach to problem solving, except when the issue at hand involved something she was especially passionate about. And she was definitely passionate about Finn Chamberlain, a woman who was a stranger six days ago but had started to feel like someone she couldn’t bear to live without.

“Think before you act, Moreno. It’s the most important lesson I could ever hope to teach you.”

When the cell phone in Director Chavez’s hand rang for the second time, Luisa knew she was about to learn the lesson firsthand.

“It’s him.” Director Chavez took a moment to compose himself before he answered the phone. “What’s going on, Javier? You said I had six hours to respond to your demand. The time isn’t up yet.”

“That’s not why I’m calling. The air conditioner stopped working. But I’m sure you knew that, didn’t you?”

“How would I know that? You’re behind closed doors, remember? I can’t get to you from here.”

“If I find out you had something to do with it, Chavez, I’m going to make you regret it, understand?”

Director Chavez nodded as if Villalobos could see him. “You’re calling the shots, Javier. I understand that. What do you want me to do?”

“Send someone in to fix the air conditioning. And don’t try anything funny or I’ll kill another hostage. I’ve done it before. Do you want to see me do it again?”

“No,” Director Chavez said quickly. “But let’s be reasonable. If I do something for you, I need you to do something for me.”

“I figured you’d say that. Once the air conditioner’s fixed, I’ll release one of the hostages. She’s more trouble than she’s worth, anyway. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes. I’ll get on the phone and find someone who can help. Someone should be here in less than thirty minutes.”

“Make it fifteen or the deal’s off.”

“Whatever you say.” Director Chavez ended the call and used his own phone to call David Menendez, the officer he had assigned to venture inside.

David had worn a mask over his face when he had assumed his position outside the resort so Villalobos’s men weren’t able to see his face. After the resort’s assistant manager arrived and they were able to access the electric plan, Director Chavez had pulled David from his position and sent him into town to wait for his call.

When David arrived a few minutes after Director Chavez summoned him, he was driving a pickup truck emblazoned with the name of a local electrician’s shop. He emerged carrying a battered metal toolbox and wearing a polo shirt, jeans, and work boots. He jogged up the road, not making eye contact with any of his fellow officers or their antagonists. As soon as he got the hidden camera installed and the feed went online, Luisa would remotely restore the air conditioner to working order. David would get the credit—if he made his efforts look real. Otherwise, their deception would be discovered and David could either become another hostage or yet another of Javier’s victims.

“The electrician’s here,” Director Chavez told Javier when he got him back on the phone. “Do you want me to send him in?”

“Not yet. I want one of my men to search him first to make sure he isn’t carrying any concealed weapons.”

Director Chavez relayed the order to the surly hit man who had tossed him the cell phone he was now holding. The man patted Menendez down and rummaged through his toolbox. Luisa stiffened when she saw the hit man pick up the “replacement part” containing the hidden camera. Then he casually tossed it aside, slammed the toolbox shut, and leaned toward the phone in Director Chavez’s outstretched hand.

“He’s clean, boss.”

“Then bring him in here.”

“Move.”

The hit man pressed his pistols into the small of David’s back and marched him toward the theater. Luisa watched until they disappeared inside. She braced herself to hear gunshots or to see the relieved face of someone unexpectedly tasting freedom after spending most of the afternoon coming to terms with her impending death. She knew she shouldn’t expect the face to be Finn’s, but her heart held out hope. As she tightened her grip on her battle rifle, she prayed her heart wasn’t about to be broken.

“When will you release the hostage?” Director Chavez asked.

“When I see if this guy is really who he says he is,” Javier said. “When will I get my money?”

“The van’s on the way from Mexico City now. It should be here in about four hours.”

Director Chavez hesitated long enough for Luisa to notice, but she didn’t think the brief pause captured Villalobos’s attention. President Peña Nieto had refused to authorize payment of the ransom. Not only the full amount, but any amount at all. Director Chavez knew Villalobos wouldn’t take the news well, so he decided to string him along as long as he could while he tried to think of a way to resolve the situation while leaving the least amount of casualties behind.

“You’re cutting it close, aren’t you?” Javier asked.

“Like I said, these things take time.”