Bill turned around in the passenger seat to face Deckard as he terminated a call on his cell phone.

“I’ve got a geo on a dead drop you guys are going to need.  One of the technical guys at the U.S. embassy stashed it a while back in case something like this came up.”

“Surprising amount of forethought on their part,” Deckard said.

“Yeah, no shit.  Almost like they anticipated this situation, huh?  Most of those guys couldn’t find pussy in a Mexican whorehouse.”

Bill sent a text to Deckard’s cell phone.  They all carried encrypted cell phones that Ramon had set up for them back in Mauritius.

“That is the lat-long for the dead drop,” Bill told him.  “Pick it up and I will get back to you with a grid to wherever the device is being stored.  I don’t have it yet, but the client should get it to me soon.”

“He better if he wants it back.”

“Just do your job and let me worry about that.”