CDMX - 28. CDMX • XXVIII

“I could get used to this.” CJ glanced at the dregs in his and Owen’s glasses and raised a hand to attract the bartender’s attention. “Sofía?”

The young woman waved at him as she stepped out from behind the bar. “I’m going on break, embajador. José will take care of you.”

Her coworker grinned and winked at CJ and Owen. “What can I get you, embajador?” While mixing the first round of drinks, José and Sofía had extracted sufficient information to christen CJ ambassador because of his job. The same way the front desk receptionist had done upon checking in. Facing a married, gay couple, José must have felt comfortable enough to reveal he was also gay.

“I told you not to call me that. And stop flirting, you already know it’s not gonna work.” CJ pointed at the empties. “Dos más, por favor.”

“I think he’s sassy ’cause he knows nothing will come of it. He gets the chance to have fun without any commitment or consequences.” Owen had leaned against the bar, watching the interaction, grinning. “Gracias, José.” He raised the new cocktail in the bartender’s direction before sipping it. Once he tasted it, he smacked his lips. “Bloody good, mate.”

Neither he nor CJ were entirely sober. Lincoln had volunteered to look after Liebe for the weekend, so they had flown to Cancun by themselves. Cocktails on the plane, wine with a late dinner, Grand Marnier with a decadent chocolate soufflé, and now margaritas at the poolside bar while enjoying Cuban cigars.

“Yep, this could be addictive. We should travel on our own more often.”

“What are you talking about?” Owen touched a finger to the rim and licked the salt off it.

When CJ explained he liked the idea of drinking without having to worry about watching a kid, Owen disagreed. “Wanna bet you miss Liebe waking you up tomorrow morning?”

CJ laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Let’s finish this one and call it a night. I’m drunk, I’m horny, and I want to go for a run tomorrow morning.”

CJ was bent over at the waist, panting. A hand against the wall helped support him as sweat dripped from the hairs on his bare chest onto the ground. When he raised his head, he could not disguise his surprise. Smiling, he walked the few steps towards Ritch and wrapped his arms around him. “Bro…”

“Ewww… Get off me! You nasty.” Ritch’s effort to dislodge himself from his brother was futile. “Dude! You’re sweating all over me. Like what the fuck?”

Still grinning, CJ scanned the laughing crowd surrounding his brother. “Welcome to Mexico, Chair Force.” He had been using the derogatory name for the Air Force since Ritch had applied for admission at the Academy.

“Chair Force, you say?” Edrice King offered him a fist bump.

CJ had told his brother he had enjoyed meeting his fellow cadet the previous year. In the same class as Ritch, Edrice hailed from Silver Springs, Maryland. Living just outside the D.C. border, Ritch had invited him to their fathers’ Fourth of July celebration.

“Yup, that’s us. So talented and powerful we can destroy the world from the comfort of a chair while sipping a latte. Any questions?”

“Bro, what the heck are you doing running at the crack of dawn? We only do it because we have no choice in the matter.” It was not as early as Ritch suggested.

The cadets would later describe leaving Denver just before midnight and arriving in Cancun sometime close to sunrise. A little later, they were at the resort. CJ suspected they had not slept much, but based on previous conversations, that was standard operating procedure for Air Force Academy cadets. He was convinced coffee and energy drinks fueled the military.

Smirking, Ritch scanned his brother from head to toe. “And why are you wearing panties?”

Guests walking around them to access the hotel’s entrance stared at the group of young men and one woman who had formed a semi-circle around CJ.

He glanced down at himself. His attire consisted of old running shoes with no-show socks and a pair of drab-olive shorts. “Oh, you’re in trouble now, Ritchie. In case the rest of your posse’s not smart enough to figure it out on their own”—he grabbed and shook the shorts’ hem—“these are Marine Corps silkies. You do remember one of our fathers’ a marine, right? Wait ’til I tell him you called my shorts panties.”

“Cap’s gonna beat you like a drum, Ritchie.” Will Bender rarely used his roommate’s childhood nickname, but he appeared ready to side with the older sibling. “Where’s Liebe?” He had met the girl and her fathers while spending part of his Christmas break at the Colorado house.

Before CJ could reply, Ritch pointed at Will. “You, should call your parents and say goodbye. I foresee an accident happening this week.” Smiling to prove he was not really upset, and his threat was as empty as the ones he had made in Vail, he gingerly draped an arm around CJ and faced the group. “In case you haven’t figured it out, this is my brother. CJ, you’ve met Ed and Will. That’s Mitch, Joel, Fred, Miranda, and Braxton.” He pointed at each in turn, before stepping away from his brother. “Ewww again, bro. Your sweat smells like booze and sex.”

CJ blew on his nails and buffed them against his sweaty chest. “Yeah, well, It’s called a fun Friday night. Ozzie and I may have had a cocktail or two at the pool bar last night after dinner. When we stumbled into our room, we realized we weren’t that drunk or tired. We slept like babies after going a couple of rounds.”

“TMI!” The comment came from nearly everyone, but one cadet did not object.

“Sounds like a good time was had by all.” Joel extended a hand for CJ to shake. “Joel Boxworth. It’s great to meet you, sir. We’ve all heard a lot about you.”

“Sir? The fuck, cadet?” CJ tried to sound indignant, but a near chuckle ruined the effect. “I’m CJ. You call me sir again, I’ll make sure you’re with Will when he has that accident.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Enough with the testosterone shenanigans.” Miranda shook her head without a single spiky hair moving. “Nice to meet you, CJ. I’m Miranda Kerr. Now, if you’ll forgive me, I’m going in to register, and then grab a cocktail. Maybe not in that order. For those of you under twenty-one, legal age’s eighteen in Mexico, boys!”

“Tell you what, guys. Let me go up and wake Owen. We’ll shower and meet you at the restaurant for breakfast. They’re supposed to have a nice all-you-can-eat buffet.” CJ shook his head when a couple of cadets rubbed their stomachs; damn kids were always ready to eat. “Go get your rooms, change, and meet us there in an hour.”

CJ touched the hostess’ arm and spoke quietly. “Could you please ask our server to bring everyone a Bloody María?” Ritch and Owen, flanking him, were the only others to hear. “At the end, no matter what they say, put all the meals on one check and bring it to me. Okay?”

“Por supuesto, embajador.”

Her response was at a normal volume, allowing the gathered cadets to hear. Federico Rodrigues, a product of the Miami suburb of Hialeah, grinned. “She said yes, ambassador? Did you get promoted and Ritch hasn’t heard yet?”

“Don’t start shit, Fred.” CJ had heard about the kid, how he felt he could not afford the trip, and how Ritch had used credit card reward points to buy his airplane ticket and pay for his share of the hotel room.

“Then why she call you that?”

Owen sat between CJ and Federico. “I’m Owen.” Federico shook the proffered hand. “The ambassador shit started last night when we checked in and showed our diplomatic passports. Then the bartenders called him that all night while we got plastered.”

“Sounds like you guys had a really good time.”

“We did. Wait ’til you meet Sofía and José later. Those were the bartenders at the pool. They don’t know the meaning of a weak cocktail.”

Once the ordered drinks were delivered, CJ raised his. “A toast! To you, guys. Welcome to Mexico!”

CJ and Owen chatted briefly about Liebe with Miranda, but CJ stood as soon as the cadet who had gone to the bathroom returned. “Let’s get some food. I have a proposition for you when we get back.” He led the buffet’s invasion but stepped aside to allow the cadets access first.

Food-laden plates in hand, they all returned to the table, with CJ and Owen being last. CJ did not wait to present his proposal. “Okay, Ozzie already told you we’ll be heading home on Monday. Today, we’d like to spend on the beach and around the pool. Tonight, we plan to hit a hot dance club we heard about. You’re all welcome to hang around us or do your own thing.” CJ paused and smiled; everyone was nodding.

“Who’s heard of Chichén Itzá?” In response to Owen’s question, about half the cadets raised their hands. “For those of you in the dark, it’s a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Mayan Ruins some 200 kilometers inland. We want to go there tomorrow, and would like to extend an invitation for you to join us.”

CJ picked up the thread seamlessly. “See, tomorrow’s the spring equinox. Twice a year, in spring and fall, people flock to the Kukulcán Pyramid to witness the sun play on its surface. On every equinox, the late afternoon sun creates the illusion of a snake creeping down the northern staircase.”

“Sounds like fun,” said one of the cadets. “How much would it cost? If it’s that popular, it’s probably expensive.”

“CJ and I will cover it. You’d be our guests. But we have to leave at the crack of dawn. If you’re not there when the hired bus shows up, you get left behind.”

Mid-morning, CJ and Owen found themselves on the sand on opposite sides of a volleyball net. The friendly game soon turned brutal. “You’re going down, bro!” CJ screamed at Mitch after being smacked with a ball. Mitch Simmons, a football player from Texas, was the tallest and kept trying to hit opponents when he spiked the ball.

“Yeah, you and what army?” Simmons stood with feet apart and clenched fists raised in triumph. “WE ARE THE AIR FORCE! You’re going down, wimps.”

Laughing, Owen clasped the man’s shoulder. “Mate, you do realize they’re all cadets on the other side except for CJ, right?”

“Who cares? They’re still going down.”

“You know? We have a couple of friends back in D.C. you remind me of.” CJ stood at the net, facing Mitch, waiting for the ball to be served.

“What? They good-looking and smart too?”

“What do you mean too? They’re that, but I’m not so sure about you. You did decide to join the Air Force.”

Simmons cracked up. “I’m gonna hurt you before the weekend’s over.”

“Funny man. Our friends both play in the NFL. Riley’s a wide receiver and Phil’s a tight end. You’re close to their size. And just so you know, when we work out together, sometimes it ends up with me and Phil sparring. He usually ends up on his back.”

“I ain’t scared of you, paper pusher.”

“I need a rinse and a cocktail,” a sand-covered CJ said after his team had indeed gone down.

“I’m joining you.” Owen’s comment was followed by Ritch and Joel declaring their matching desire for a break.

As they walked away, the remaining cadets drafted observers to replace departing players, but never stopped trash talking. After standing underneath the outdoor shower, and brushing their bodies clean, CJ and the other three men strolled towards the poolside bar.

“Embajador! You’re back.” The raven-haired, voluptuous woman behind the bar displayed a wide expanse of brilliant, white teeth.

“Hola, Sofía.” CJ draped an arm over Ritch’s shoulder. “This is my brother, Ritch”—he tilted his head in Joel’s direction—“and that’s his friend, Joel. Cuatro margaritas?” He did not bother to ask his companions if that was what they wanted.

“Hola, chicos. The ambassador and his husband like theirs on the rocks with salt, what about you?” Her English was accented but pretty good otherwise; the previous night, CJ had assumed it was because she served American tourists, and was able to practice the language frequently.

Both cadets nodded their agreement and sat on stools in front of her. CJ noticed Ritch would not stop staring at her dark eyes and plump lips. Or the ample breasts stretching the tight white shirt tied above her waist. “My brother told us you were one of the bartenders he enjoyed meeting last night. You work long hours, don’t you?”

“Not really. I’m here Friday nights and in the daytime on Saturdays and Sundays. During the week I go to school.”

Ritch chatted the woman up while she mixed cocktails; when handed his, he made over-the-top comments about how good it was. “So, if you don’t work tonight, are we gonna see you at Club Yucatán? My brother and brolaw mentioned it’s supposed to be a fun place.”

Sofía stared at Ritch from top to bottom and smirked. “Maybe… Will you dance with me if I go?”

“All night long!”

A stool away, Joel smacked his forehead. “Oh, crap. Romeo’s at it again.” In a whisper, so Sofía could not hear him, he spoke for the benefit of CJ and Owen. “Your brother gets laid more often than anyone else in our class.”

“I heard that!” Ritch momentarily interrupted his flirting. “You’re an asshole, Boxworth. Why don’t you go find yourself a Mexican boy and go get fucked?”

“Romeo?” Owen looked confused.

“Mexican boy?” CJ smirked. “Something you want to share, cadet?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Romeo’s what his flight calls him. It’ll probably be his call sign when he becomes a fighter pilot. And yes, I’m gay.”

“Thank goodness there’s at least one of you who plays for our team.” CJ touched knuckles with the cadet. “Stick with us, kid. Uncle CJ and Uncle Ozzie will get you laid.”

When Joel raised his eyebrow in a questioning manner, Owen pounced. “Don’t even think about it. Not with us. We don’t play around.”

“Damn!” Joel looked disappointed.

“Embajador!” The greeting uttered by the man joining Sofía behind the bar made everyone but CJ grin.

“No más, José. I told you to call me CJ”

“How about I call you papi, Papi?” José wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips.

Ritch lost it. Laughing, he turned from Sofía for a moment. “You’ve met your match, bro.” He winked at José. “Dude! Good one. I’m Ritch. CJ’s brother.”

“Ricardo! Your brother talked a lot about you last night. Too bad you like girls.”

Ritch’s guffaws did not abate. He spoke to José but stared at Sofía. “Yeah… I definitely like girls. But hey, if you wanna nail an Air Force cadet, Joel here’s single and available.” Using his apparent fear of getting hit, Ritch jumped off his stool, ran behind the bar, and grasped Sofía by the hips. “Protect me, Sofía.” He looked surprised when she shook her ass a bit and pushed against his groin. The woman was flirting back.

“You can’t be back here, Ricardo.” José’s admonition went unheeded.

“Bloody hell!”

“Asshole!”

“Peterson, I’m so gonna get you back.”

José did not appear to mind Ritch’s suggestion, as his eyes raked over the smooth, muscular man offered up. “Joel? Es un placer, Guapo.”

The way the two men looked at each other, it was obvious the pleasure would be mutual.

Joel vocalized everyone’s thoughts. “I think the pleasure could be mutual.” He shook Jose’s hand and held it a tad longer than normal. The bartender was slender, bearded, hairy-chested, and shorter than the customers on the other side of the counter.

“You’re gonna be happy and sore if you bottom, Joel.” CJ pointed at the bulge in José’s white shorts. “You can tell he’s going commando. Big and uncut. Just like me.” CJ laughed when Owen slapped the back of his head.

“That’s disgusting.” Ritch shook his head and moved from Sofía’s back to her side. He kept an arm around her waist. “Nobody wants to hear that shit.”

“I don’t mind,” Joel said.

Cadets broke away from the volleyball game and drifted in and out of the thatch-roofed space, chatting with the bartenders and the men glued to their seats. The four had lunch at the bar, and CJ tried to get to know Joel a bit better. “So, you’re in my brother’s year?”

“Yes, sir. Class of twenty-four.”

CJ shook his head in frustration. “Why do you all insist on calling me sir? I mean, I’m only a couple of years older than you guys.”

“More like four or five.” Owen grinned and returned his attention to the food on his plate.

“You ain’t helping, Oz. Joel, please call me CJ.”

“I’ll try, but you have to realize with us, calling someone sir or ma’am’s second nature. We would be doing the same with Braxton and Miranda if they hadn’t ordered us not to once we were in the air.”

“As many people as I know who’ve served in the military, I’ll never get used to the strict discipline. It’s why I never considered joining.” CJ grinned at the young cadet. “I have a problem obeying orders I don’t particularly like. I’ll try not to snap when one of you doesn’t use my first name.”

“It’s not even his first name! That would be César.”

“I said you ain’t helping, Oz. Where you from, Joel?”

“Born and raised in Springfield, Missouri. It’s in the state’s southwest corner.”

“Third largest city, right? After St. Louis and Kansas City.”

“Very good! You ever been there?”

“Nope. I spent a day in St. Louis back when I was a freshman in college, but I didn’t get to see anything. I flew in that morning, attended an event, and flew back to D.C. that night.”

“That must have been tiring.”

“His wing feathers were a mess when he got back.” Owen might have been borderline drunk at that point.

“You still ain’t helping. It was okay. I was a volunteer for Secretary Clinton’s campaign, and I was invited to fly with her for an address to a bunch of businesspeople. So what’s your major? You gonna be a lifer?”

“Not sure about a lifer, but I do want to stay in for a while.” Joel shrugged and grinned. “Well maybe a bit longer than a while. I have the same major your brother does, Aeronautical Engineering. I want to become a pilot.”

“Fighter jets like Ritch?”

“Not really, sir. There’s a cadet named Kai Palakiko back at the academy who wants to command Air Force One at some point. He’s already told me he’ll put in a word for me so I can do the same.”

‘He’s offering to use his influence, and he’s not even an officer yet?” Owen sounded amused. “I’ll give him credit for aiming high. CJ does the same, and it’s one of the reasons I fell for him. My husband oozes confidence in the future.”

CJ was not done questioning Joel. “I assume you’re out at the Academy. Any pushback?”

“I am. And yes, there’s still plenty of homophobic people in the military, but for the most part, the harassment hasn’t been bad. It kinda helps Ritch’s made a big deal out of having a gay brother. When we went skiing at your place, one guy made a joke at my expense while still on the bus, and I thought your brother was gonna shoot him on the spot. Ritch ripped him a new asshole, and his posse backed him up. Mitch offered to throw the guy out a window.”

“I knew I liked the big lug.” Owen had already mentioned he thought beneath the bravado and posturing, Mitch Simmons was a pussycat.

“Mitch’s awesome, sir. He’s made it a point of being seen around me, and that got other football players talking to me. I’m not flamboyant and most would consider me a jock, so I get to fit in. I’m sure someone more out there would have a much more difficult time than I do.”

CJ shook his head. “That’s a shame. We have to clean out the fossilized thinking in our military. And that may mean retiring a few generals.”

“Well, sir, I understand you know a lot of high-level politicians. Maybe you could make a suggestion.”

Owen cracked up. “Give him a couple of years to meet a few more senators, Joel. As soon as CJ has the votes, he’ll have one of his friends introduce a bill to revamp the armed forces.”

“You definitely ain’t helping, Oz.” CJ stood. “And on that note, I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

When he returned, most everyone in the group was either in the pool or sprawled out around it. Owen had claimed a spot at the end of a row, Edrice sat next to him, so CJ took the next one. “If you’re trying to make time with my husband, it ain’t gonna work.”

While Owen shook his head, Edrice laughed. “He’s safe. Not my type. His chest’s flat and his groin ain’t.”

CJ grinned while spreading a towel on the lounger. “Just perfect for me. How the fuck are you, Ed?”

“Good. Ritch told me you took your Jeep’s destruction better than he expected. Sorry about that.”

“I might have been pissed and flown off the handle at some point in my past, but having a child has changed me. I’ve mellowed. Honestly, Ed, I’m just happy you and Ritch weren’t hurt.”

Owen cut in. “And you two did turn out to be heroes saving that kid’s life. When we returned from our Christmas trip, CJ bragged about it to everyone we know in Mexico.”

“I don’t think that ever crossed our minds.” Edrice shrugged. “I mean, we saw someone in trouble and we just reacted.”

“And in the process, you got great news coverage and perks at the Academy.” Owen patted the cadet’s knee. “Don’t sell yourself short, mate. You and Ritch did something most people wouldn’t have. I’ve always been inspired by firefighters, they rush into danger to protect people and property when others would turn and run, trying to save themselves. You and Ritch acted the same way those men and women do: with the possibility of an explosion or fire facing you, you disregarded personal safety to help someone in trouble. CJ isn’t the only one proud of you two.”

“Thanks.”

CJ raised a hand to attract a roaming server’s attention. “Let’s get cocktails. How’s the Arabic coming along?”

Edrice rattled off a couple of phrases CJ had no idea what they meant. “I said it’s going well. The language’s not an issue, a couple more years studying, and I should be fluent. It’s the cultural aspects that are hard.”

“The Muslim world?”

“Yeah… Their total adherence to what Imams say is so far out of my wheelhouse I end up having trouble. How can people be so willing to blow themselves up?”

“I’ve had this conversation before. The Japanese did the same with their kamikaze attacks during World War II.” CJ’s sigh was loud. “I think a lot rests on lack of education and poverty in the Arab world. While Saudi Arabia’s royal family, and others in the region, spend money on shiny toys and an extravagant lifestyle, their subjects often live in squalor.

“And then there’s greed and corruption. If those rich Arabs shared a bit of their wealth, and leaders weren’t as crooked, maybe financial aid would reach those who most need it. I think if Palestinians had a higher standard of living, they wouldn’t resent Israel so much.”

“Imagine that, peace in the Middle East.” Owen turned his attention to the server standing by his lounger. “Tres margaritas con sal, en las rocas, por favor.” The questioning look aimed at CJ and Edrice was met with nods. “So, you’re studying Arabic and Islamic society. Any other interesting courses?”

“Mmmm… Not so much a course but a series of monthly seminars covering intelligence wins and losses has been my favorite this semester.”

CJ suddenly became more interested in the conversation. “Like what?”

“Well, so far I’ve attended one on the failure at Pearl Harbor and the success at Midway.” The Japanese attack on Hawaii, on December 7, 1941, had decimated the American Pacific Fleet. Six months later, their attempt to inflict similar damage on Midway and the remaining ships was repelled, and the Japanese were trounced.

“Have they covered the Enigma machine and breaking the German’s code?”

“Not yet. That’s coming next month. We did examine the intelligence that precipitated the Cuban Missile Crisis. But the one I’ve found most interesting was the one covering failures around the 9/11 attacks.”

“Yeah, that one cost us dearly. Twenty years in Afghanistan, and what do we have to show for it? A friend of ours, an Army Ranger, was deployed there. He suggested we should have gone nuclear on the Taliban and turned the country into a parking lot.”

Edrice grinned. “You mean someone who lost their legs? A redhead rumored to be in the running for an Oscar? Like the two of you?”

”CJ, you’re gonna have to learn how to refer to Brad in a different way if you don’t want to name him. As Spencer told me—that’s my brother, Ed—if we win, we’ll be Oscar winners for the rest of our lives. Our obituaries would include that nugget.”

“He’s right, you know? You guys are part of history now. Even if you don’t win the Oscar, you guys have already picked up a bunch of awards.”

“Don’t remind me, okay? As soon as Ozzie and I got back from Colorado, when a nomination was just a rumor, our friend who’s a reporter demanded an interview. Win or not, we’re scheduled to sit down with her the week after the ceremony.

“Anyway, going back to Afghanistan, I think we wasted our time trying to nation-build. Too many of our leaders thought it would be like Germany and Japan after World War II, but they failed to take into account the lack of infrastructure or real leadership in Afghanistan. Or the fact there was no tradition of anything but occupiers. About that nuking suggestion, I can’t discuss details because they’re classified, but I know the thought did cross a few minds.”

“I’m not yet a citizen, mate. And I don’t have that high-security clearance, but CJ might. He’s been working with the CIA.”

There was no disguising Edrice’s surprise and delight. “Really? That’s awesome. What’s been going on?”

Since CJ had been told he could discuss everything except the actual smuggling of Domogarov out of Mexico, he did. For the next thirty minutes or so he explained the matter and answered countless questions from Edrice.

He eventually stood and gathered all his belongings. “Enjoyed the chat, Ed, but it’s naptime. Keep at it bud, I think you’re gonna be good at spycraft. If you ever want to talk to someone at the CIA about a job, call me. I know a couple of people.”

“I’m impressed with Ritch’s friends.” Owen stripped off his t-shirt and bathing suit, dropping them on the bathroom floor. “You gonna shower?”

“Later. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted a nap.” CJ dropped face-first on the bed and crawled until he reached the headboard. Turning around, he laced his fingers behind his head. “We already knew Will was solid. Talking to Ed reinforced my first impression he is too. Miranda intrigues me. I want to get to know her a bit better. Same with Fred.”

“I like that one. A little less rambunctious than the others. But then again, compared to Mitch, everyone resembles a church mouse.”

CJ cracked up. “Did you hear Mitch’s thinking of medicine? Guess the brawn has brains.”

“Come on, Ceej. This is the Air Force Academy we’re talking about. I’m sure they’re all smart.”

“Yeah? What about the wackos supporting the insurrection at the Capitol?”

“I thought I told you that subject was off-limits. You guys voted out Cheeto Benito already. Stop bringing him up.”

“Fine! No more jokes. But you know I’m gonna have to do something about that pesky constitutional ignorance at some point.”

Owen laid down next to CJ and spooned him. “Leave it for another day. Maybe when we’re back in Washington in a couple of years.”