. . .

It was plastic

Juan knew that faint glistening look. Plastique. A large brick of it. Sitting on his kitchen table, inside a package just delivered by FedEx, from somebody who called themselves "Internation Conglomerate's, Inc." Juan hated people who misused apostrophes.

Still, it had been enough years since he'd done that sort of thing that he'd have thought the message "I'm retired" had percolated to all areas of the globe that his unique talents were known. Juan glared at the brick. It had no business being here, messing with his comfortable routine. He liked where he was. He had no desire to go off to Tijunan or Burkina Faso or wherever the hell it was that someone wanted him to blow something up. He had even less desire to make up a story to his wife explaining his absence. Marriage had changed many things for him, and one of them was his occupation. He was retired now. He had said so. Well, not _retired_ retired. You can never completely retire from the field. There was always that last bit of unfinished business waiting around the corner to bite you on the small of the back when you least expected it or wished for it to be there. And the reverse was true, too: every now and again you needed it, somehow, needed the thrill of the mission, or needed one of your old contacts to get back in touch with you so that you could pull a few strings, and that, or course, was when that side of his life was conspicuous in its absence. Juan looked for a message.

"Detroit. Just like old times, right? R."

Sounded like Ron. Typical of him, if it was. Never enough information to do the job right, just a go here, destroy that building, get paid, go home. Never a few details, like that someone was trying to make a Statement, so make it a trifle loud, but not enough as to damage anyone. Juan stopped himself midcomplaint. He owed Ron. Which wasn't enough to get him back at this stage in the game, but Ron also had something on him. Some evidence. If Juan didn't show up, then that evidence was going to be sent to the people who would be interested in getting it, and then Juan's lifespan could be measured in days.