Sonny Crockett was annoyed he had gotten off on the wrong foot with the new boss. He tapped his pencil on the edge of his desk, trying to decide just how he was going to make things right.

“I’m Lieutenant Castillo, your new boss,” he announced. “Can someone tell me where my office is?”

There was stunned silence.

The horrors of war had left their mark, but the changes were subtle enough to be missed by the untrained eye. Martin studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror and wondered why he had never noticed this before.

“Say Tubbs, have you ever considered a job in southern law enforcement?” Sonny asked him jokingly as they got up to leave, remembering the first time he had asked it. Rico laughed, as he had laughed when Sonny had first asked him that question what seemed a lifetime ago. But this time he was heading back to New York.

Leering down at his prisoner, it was the Colombian who finally broached the topic. “Well Crockett, you are finally going to meet my partner.” He looked at his watch – it read 12:45 a.m.. “He should have everything pretty much in hand by now. Enjoy the ride my friend.”

The air was still and muggy like the calm before a storm, like the feeling in the pit of her stomach. It would be a long day and night – she’d be glad when it was all over and she could say good-bye once and for all to this feeling of dread and the threat of Julio Sanchez.

He found it hard to believe but the fact was, that eighteen years after suffering Crockett’s rage, this deal with Esteban would finally afford him the opportunity to bring that whole sorry part of his life to a conclusion. If all went right, Wednesday would provide the perfect opportunity to finally settle the score.

Esteban was impressed. If he didn’t know that the man standing in front
of him was a cop, he’d consider him to be a great asset to his organization. “You drive a hard bargain, Burnett. I’ll let you know.”

“That’s him,” the voice on the other side said with confidence. It was coming from a cabin cruiser slowly sailing past a few hundred feet offshore. The person on the other end of the line was viewing Crockett through high-powered night-vision binoculars.

It was ironic when he thought about it. Fuente had tried to destroy him, but instead his actions had resurrected that part of him that made him whole once more – the part that allowed him to be in touch with his inner self, the part that allowed him to take risks with his emotions and live in the real world again.