As she turned and walked toward the door, she could hear the scraping of the chairs against the wooden floor. Fletcher and the others followed her out the door.
Twenty minutes later, they were in view of Manuel’s home. “I go in alone,” Sin said. “Unless you hear the sound of gun fire, no one enters until I open the front door and wave you inside.”
“That’s an unnecessary risk,” Fletcher said.
“We know these people,” Sin said. “We saved his daughter from Veloz. The intel on them doesn’t make sense. I need time to talk to Manuel and hear his side of the story. I’ll know if he’s lying.”
“And if he tries to take you out?”
Sin looked at the soldier who spoke. “If it’s a knife fight or hand-to-hand, he doesn’t stand a chance. If you hear shooting, come fast and hard.”
Sin stepped out of their hiding spot and crept along the side of the shanty. She stayed low and out of sight from the windows, surprised to see lights on inside at this time of night. That alone made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.
She made her way to the front door, reached up, knocked, and squatted low again.
Footsteps could be heard coming closer. Sin was balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce on whoever answered the door.
“Who is it?”
Sin knew Manuel’s voice. He sounded skittish.
“La Perla Angel de la Muerte,” Sin answered.
Through the thin wooden door, Sin could hear the slide being pulled back on a semiautomatic weapon. “If you are who you say, what was my gift to you?” Manuel asked.
“A pearl-handled Balisong, and I want it back.”
Sin stayed crouched as she heard the chain on the inside of the door being released. As soon as the door opened, she sprung from her position, grabbed Manuel’s gun hand, twisted it back forcing him to drop the weapon, and then shoved him to the ground.
Manuel fell backward on the wooden floor, clutching his wrist, and trying not to scream. Sin stepped into the house, picked up the pistol and aimed it at him.
She kicked the door closed as she scanned the house for others. “Who is here?”
Manuel was just starting to recover when Sin heard the sound of an inner door opening. She quickly lowered her gun as soon as she saw Serena run toward her father.
Sin grabbed a chair and sat down, trying to calm her frayed nerves.
Manuel hugged his frightened daughter, telling her that he was just surprised at seeing Sin and tripped over his own feet.
Sin remained on full alert as she and Serena hugged and said hello.
“She seemed pretty spooked,” Sin said, after Serena was once again sleeping. With a tentative reach, she accepted a cup of coffee from Manuel, “anything unusual going on around here lately?”
Manuel diverted his eyes from Sin and sipped his espresso. “Eh, it is nothing,” he said. “You know girls, always afraid for no reason.”
Sin placed her cup on the wooden table and then placed the pistol next to it. “I know Serena,” she said, “and she is not easily frightened.”
Manuel began to fidget and looked everywhere but directly at Sin.
“Manuel,” Sin placed a soft hand on top of his, “I am here to help, but I need to know what is going on.” She could feel his pulse quicken under her fingers. “I have been told that you are in trouble, doing things you know are wrong, but I don’t believe it.” His pulse quickened still. “I told my people that my friend, Manuel, would never be involved it the slave trade. Now, I want to hear it from you.”
Hearing the words ‘slave trade’ startled Manuel and he jerked away from Sin. “Angel, after what my sweet Serena went through, how could you even think such a thing?” His voice was sincere, but his non-verbal cues were deceiving―his eyes, facial expression, and posture said he was lying.
Sin pulled three pictures from the back pocket of her jeans. “Then explain why you’ve been seen coming and going from the Condominio Elegante in Puerto Cabezas and why you have been seen with associates of Veloz?”
He glanced at the pictures and slid them back towards Sin. “It is not what you think, Angel.”
“Then tell me what it is, Manuel. Because, if you don’t tell me the truth, I will kill you and take Serena with me.”
“Look around you, Angel.” Manuel’s voice cracked. Frustration could be heard in his tone. “I have nothing! Most days, I pray that I will be able to feed my child. Is this right? No, it is not.” He pointed to Serena’s room. “She deserves better. She deserves a home with a toilet that works, she deserves to go to school every day, and she deserves . . .” Tears streamed down his cheeks, “a papa who can give her those things.”
Sin stayed silent. Manuel was unburdening his soul and would get to the reason behind the intel all by himself.
“This home―this town, they are who I am, they are my life. I want Serena to know what a beautiful place this can be, but . . .” he pounded his chest, “I cannot find work, and I will not live off of charity.” He sat back down and wrapped both callused, trembling hands around his cup. “In a place this small, you hear things.” He kept his head down as he spoke.
