Jonas allowed himself a small, satisfied nod. “Quite.
Shall we?”
He followed Castilo and his bodyguard to the upper aft deck, where service for four had been laid out on a round, cloth-covered table. As they approached, the sliding-glass doors opened and Karen stepped out. She had wrapped a colorful flower-printed sarong around her waist, offering tantalizing glimpses of her tanned legs. “You remember Joanne?”
“Impossible to forget.” Castilo lifted her hand to his lips, gazing at her all the while.
Karen returned his direct look without blinking. “Thank you, Rafael. It is a pleasure to be appreciated once in a while.” She shot Jonas a half kidding, half serious look.
“Dinner is almost ready, gentlemen.”
“Thank you, my dear.” Jonas turned back to Castilo and gestured to his guardian. “Are you— I’m sorry, I don’t believe we were ever properly introduced.” He held out his hand to the bodyguard, who looked down at it for a second before taking it and shaking, his grip firm but not crushing.
“You can call me Theodore.”
“And I am Ferdinand. Please, join us. There’s no need to be on the clock out here. I wouldn’t be much of a businessman if my potential clients kept meeting with accidents,” he said with a genuine smile. “Besides, I always enjoy the company of someone who may have used some of my wares at one time.”
Theodore’s eyes flicked to his boss, who nodded almost imperceptibly. The quartet sat down, with Castilo seated to the right of Karen, who sat next to Jonas. Theodore took the fourth chair. Jonas glanced just for a second at the tropical floral arrangement in the middle of the table and the tiny camera that was recording everything Castilo said, along with every move he made.
Two crew members came out, bearing bowls of spicy conch chowder that they set in front of each person. The soup was followed by a light salad, then medallions of beef in a port-wine reduction, accompanied by lobster tails and drawn butter.
When he saw the main course, Castilo chuckled. “Let me get this straight. You consider surf and turf to be a light supper?”
Jonas raised his glass of wine. “What can I say—I’m German. To us, this
Throughout the meal, Castilo was charming and gregari-ous, whether he was flirting with Karen or holding his own on every topic, domestic or otherwise, brought up at the table. The strange thing was that Jonas could almost see himself liking this man. He was intelligent, quick-witted and showed a streak of ruthlessness that a successful businessman had to have to survive in today’s harsh economic world.
Although his tone was light, Jonas sensed he was impatient to get to the real reason they were there. However, Jonas continued his role of expansive, relaxed host, knowing that the longer Rafael had to wait, the more eager he would be to move the deal forward.
And besides, it’s not like this delay is all bad for him, either, he thought, glancing at his fellow operative. Karen was her usual radiant self, playing Jonas’s slightly bored mistress of the ship. She bloomed under Castilo’s compliments and did her best to wrap him around her finger.
She also sulked just a bit when Jonas gently admonished her for being too forward with their guest, but all was quickly forgiven by dessert, a flourless chocolate cake that resembled a dense mousse, accompanied by Gua- temalan coffee.
Theodore, on the other hand, accomplished the unusual task of dining while barely looking at his plate. His manners were impeccable, and his dishes were as clean as if he had once served time—which Jonas expected he had—and wasn’t about to waste a single bite of food ever again.
Jonas attempted to draw him out in conversation, as well, but his replies were polite but closed. He apparently considered himself still on duty. He did not drink in Karen with his eyes, as most red-blooded men did, but observed her dispassionately, as another possible threat to his employer.
He also kept a close eye on the servers every time a course was presented or cleared. Between the two men, Jonas was more concerned about projecting the right image to Theodore—that of a successful black market businessman.
He figured Theodore had most likely traveled in circles closer to Heinemann’s, and therefore would also probably be more suspicious than Castilo. His overall impression, like at their first meeting, was that Theodore would be a good one to watch your back. That could make things prob-lematic down the line if he really was as good as he appeared to be.
The sun had long disappeared by the time they had finished, and Castilo patted his stomach in contentment.
“Thank you for an excellent meal.”
Jonas patted the armrest of his chair. “When my crew brings her over from the Mediterranean, I always make sure that a top chef is aboard, as well. Now, how about an after-dinner drink?”
Castilo’s eyes lit up. “That would be excellent.”
“I’ll join you,” Karen said, rising.
“Not this time, I’m afraid, my dear. Rafael and I have some business to discuss, and you would be so dreadfully bored,” Jonas said.
She pouted, the expression doing delightful things to her full lips. “Someday, I swear, I’m going to make you go a whole day without discussing business.” She stepped over and gave Castilo an expansive hug. “It was a pleasure seeing you again. Please give my regards to Javier. I do hope I will have the chance to see her again.”
“I’m sure she would enjoy that, my dear. You are, as always, enchanting to the last.
“Good night.” She pecked Jonas on the cheek and flounced into the saloon, the sarong swirling around her legs.
The three men watched her go, Castilo with a sly smile curling his lips. “She appears to be quite a handful.”
Jonas smiled. “Sometimes my dear Joanne requires both, but she is nothing I cannot handle.” He motioned to the stairs behind them. “Shall we?”
He led the two men to the upper saloon, now softly lit by recessed lighting. On a low table in the center of the room sat a long olive-green aluminum box with rounded corners, with the metal security bands intact. It was stamped with Rocket Ammunition With Explosive Projectile on the top and the letters FRD on the end.
Castilo’s eyes widened when he saw the case. Jonas smiled. “Would you care for something from the bar?”
“In a minute. Our business has waited long enough.”
Jonas walked to the table and stood in front of the case.
“Rafael, before I show you what I have to offer, I want you to know one thing. I meant what I said yesterday. My business may seem motivated simply by greed, and on the whole in-different to the suffering of humanity, but I view my services as providing necessary equipment to people. I do so in the hope that, should they have to resort to using force, the munitions I supply may shorten, or even prevent a conflict if possible.”
Castilo listened to his words with a slight frown. “I have met many businessmen, each with their own reasons for doing what they do. However, this is the first time I’ve ever met an arms dealer with a heart of gold.”
Shrugging, Jonas walked over and picked up a small wire cutter, offering it to the other man. “As you can see, these haven’t even been taken out of their shipping crates. I thought you’d like to do the honors so you can see for yourself that everything is intact.”
While Castilo eyed the long metal box with interest, he shook his head. “I will confess that I do not have your experience in these matters. If you please?”
“My pleasure.” Jonas walked to one side of the box and pointed to a hexagonal metal disk at the end. There was a circle inside the disk divided into four blue sections by two crossed black lines. “As you will see, the humidity indica- tor shows that this box has not been tampered with. That shows that this system has not been opened or repackaged.”
“Perhaps, but the true proof is in seeing what’s inside with my own eyes,” Castilo replied.
Jonas unlocked the heavy metal padlocks on each closure and removed them, then broke the wire seal between
