Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

Gracie

" G racie," Walter says as I sit at his desk. I'm still holding his laptop and phone hostage until he agrees that I can go. "What are you doing?"

"My job," I say as I stare him dead in the eyes. "I'm a journalist."

"We do fluffy stories around here," he says with a sigh. "A clown who can make balloon animals with his eyes closed. A dog who can water ski. Fun stuff that doesn't make you think."

I don't break eye contact. "I'm doing the interview, Walter."

He drops his head and sighs. I've been called stubborn all my life, but I prefer tenacious. Once I have my mind on something, I don't let anyone stop me from achieving it.

"Let me tell you what it will entail," he says with a hard stare. He's trying to scare me, but it's not going to work. "You'll have to fly to El Nicanduras, one of the most dangerous countries in the world. You'll stay in a hotel where you will probably be robbed, murdered, or both." He looks at me like he's hoping I'm going to give up already.

"Cool," I say with a nod.

"Then, you'll board a rickety-old helicopter and fly into the jungle at a meeting spot given to you that morning. The lethal jungle is riddled with man-eating panthers, giant snakes who would be thrilled to swallow you whole, and all sorts of deadly insects and parasites that will swarm you the second you step foot on the muddy soil."

"Panthers, snakes, and parasites," I say with a smile. "Not a problem."

"If the helicopter doesn't crash in a fiery ball of flames," he continues. "You'll be brought into the vicious cartel's heinous lair where you'll come face to face with a psychotic killer. You'll be completely at his mercy. If you ask a question he doesn't like, whack . You'll lose your head. If you insult him, willingly or not, whack . If he doesn't like your face, whack . There's a good chance you won't make it out alive."

I smile like it's Christmas morning. "When can I leave?"

He drops his head in despair.

"You really want to go?"

"I want to be a journalist," I tell him. "A real journalist. This is what I signed up for."

He shakes his head as he watches me, but I can tell he's cracking.

"Contreras says you can bring one person with you. A cameraman."

"Cool, I'll bring Steve."

I drop Walter's laptop and phone on his desk and race to the door. "Steve!" I shout as I stick my head out. "Want to go to El Nicanduras?"

"Not a chance," he shouts back.

"Anyone?" I ask, looking around the office. Everyone is suddenly very busy with their computers. "Oh, come on! You call yourselves journalists?"

"Gracie," Walter says, waving me back into the office. I close the door and retake my seat. "You're not bringing a cameraman. I'm sending you with a bodyguard."

"But I need a cameraman to?—"

"This is not up for discussion," he says, interrupting me in a forceful tone. "I'm letting you go against my better judgment, but I'm not budging on this. You'll have a bodyguard by your side at all times. He can record the interview."

I don't like it, but I nod and agree. I've pushed this man enough for one day, plus it might make me feel a bit better to have some muscle beside me, even though it won't do much good if the machetes and bullets start flying.

"Okay," I say. "Fair enough."

"I know this great security place out of Montana," he says as he opens a desk drawer and starts riffing through some papers. "Spartan Shield Corp. They have the best bodyguards around. We'll find someone very capable for you."

I grin as he looks through his desk for the card.

I'm heading to El Nicanduras for an exclusive interview with Hector Contreras…

I can't believe it!