Border Crossings

by Michael Lee Weems

  “Who’s this?”

  “That was nice work in Cancun. I was particularly impressed you and Ms. James found a way to prevent Arismendez from surrendering. You even got the locals to finish him off for you. That was a nice touch.”

  Matt guessed immediately who the caller was. He took a sip of his beer. “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me who you are?” he asked.

  “No, you suppose correctly. Maybe one day. Maybe not. I really just called to congratulate you and ask if you might be interested in some freelance work in the future?”

  Matt wasn’t biting. “I don’t work for people I don’t know.”

  “Oh, sure you do,” said the man. “You really think you know who’s actually paying the bill whenever Silver Shield sends you out? Come now, Mr. Jordan. I think you’re smarter than that. Anyway, you think about. Oh, and Ms. James booked a flight to you for the day after tomorrow. She arrives at 10:20 in the morning . . . in case you were wondering.” Matt said nothing. It took a lot to rattle his nerves, but the mystery man was getting there. “I hope you two have a good rest. You deserve it. And really, great job. I’ll be in touch.”

  The phone went dead.