Coordinates Unknown

Author's Note: From January 2018 through May 2018, I was fortunate enough to take the trip of a lifetime across the Pacific Ocean. Instead of writing a traditional blog, this story was something I wrote as a different way to chronicle my trip. Although Hector's adventures are far more exciting than my own, they all take place in locations that I visited during my travels.

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Coordinates Unknown is the story of Hector Herrera, a British secret agent who is on the hunt for the man who killed his parents. When his legendary partner suddenly dies, the stakes are raised and Hector is forced to race against time to track down and eliminate the deadly assassin, Sin Mancha.

Art by Andrew Herbst

This story was originally published on the Chronicle Stories App.

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Part One

Burnt specks of paper rose from the end of Hector’s spliff and floated across the balcony. Officially, Hector was keeping watch, but he was undercover and he knew that standing on a balcony with no spliff, especially in this neighborhood, was bound to raise some eyebrows. He took a deep drag and leaned up against the outside wall of the house, scanning the horizon for any signs of a threat. 

As he gazed, he took another rip and his eyes rested on the tattoo across his forearm. The sleeve, which he’d gotten two months ago in celebration of his graduation from the academy, was a masterful piece of art. Below his elbow, vivid ink depicted the earth splitting apart and a fierce blue lion standing with its feet on either side of the chasm. The lion was for Chelsea F.C., his father’s favorite football club. The splitting earth was for his mother, a native of San Jose, and a lifelong Earthquakes fan - or a “die-hard quaker” as she described it. It was a love of soccer that’d brought his parents together. 

Hector’s mom, Yadira Herrera, was an American Marine stationed in Chile "after the war.” Hector’s dad, Nicholas James, was a missionary from England. Nicolas was in Chile doing humanitarian work, cleaning up a spill at the local copper mine that was contaminating the drinking water. Now that they were gone, this tattoo was all Hector had to remind himself of their love.

Hector was about to take another rip when he heard a voice from inside.

“Herrera, get in here, there’s something you need to see.”

The voice belonged to Franklin Caine, an MI6 legend and Hector’s new partner. Hector flicked what remained of his spliff over the balcony and stepped inside.

The apartment they were searching was a 1-bedroom flat in South London that belonged to someone who didn’t exist. It was basic, white walls and stock furniture, only the computer desk looked used.

“What do we got?”

“Something big,” replied Caine. 

“Is it him?” 

“Look.”

Hector followed Caine’s gaze as he flipped through a notebook lying on the desk. Each page was filled with a person’s picture, each picture was crossed out in red.

“El Sin Mancha,” whispered Hector.

“Has to be,” said Caine. “Looks like that tip was good after all. Can you imagine it? Taking down the world’s deadliest assassin all from a random pay-phone call?”

“It does seem a little hard to believe…” said Hector. 

A slow, deep voice interjected from behind the agents, “Well, Señor Caine, maybe you should have thought a little harder.”

Hector was first to turn but he was too late, El Sin Mancha had the drop on them and the agents were staring down the barrel of a gun that had ended more lives than they could imagine.

“What do you want, Rosario?” said Caine.

“Your weapons on the floor would be a good start,” smiled Sin Mancha. 

It was dark in the apartment, but Hector could see the assassin smiling. Sin Mancha was a Hispanic man of athletic build. He had dark hair, green eyes and enough facial hair to let him blend in anywhere. The agents dropped their guns and kicked them towards the assassin.

“Very good, agents. Now, I will keep this short, tell me the new evidence you found on the Herrera case, and I will let you both live.”

“You know we can’t tell you that, ” said Caine.

“Then you know what happens, but it would be a shame. A rookie agent killed on his first mission...”

Hector knew this was meant to make him angry, but he didn’t care. He was trained to take down guys like this and that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“Shut up Rosario, there’s only one person leaving here in a body bag today and it sure as hell won’t be me.” 

“Oh really?” laughed the assassin. “That’s shockingly similar to what your parents said before I killed them.” 

“Don’t listen to him, Herrera!” shouted Caine.

But Hector was intrigued, “What are you talking about?”

“They never told you? All those years of training and they never told you the reason why they recruited a sorry little orphan in the first place?” 

Hector began to reply but before he could Caine made his move. Caine dove towards the assassin, arms outstretched, but reach was never his blessing. Caine’s body sprawled across the floor, hands six inches short of where his gun lay at Sin Mancha’s feet. 

“I must say, Caine, that was very stupid, even for you,” laughed the assassin. 

He pointed his gun at Caine and pulled the trigger.

Part Two

The rest was a blur. Hector heard a bang, he felt his feet move and the next thing he knew he was bursting out the door and onto the balcony. Two shots cratered the door frame behind him but Hector was already out. He took one glance over his shoulder and leaped over the balcony onto the sidewalk below. Hector’s instincts took over and he found himself turning down back alleys and side streets, never sure exactly where he was going until he turned down a cobblestone alley and found himself staring at a boarded-up gas station.

The gas station sign read MotoMart, but Hector knew this was a front. In reality, the old Motomart was an MI6 safe house, one that only top agents knew about. Hector walked up to the first pump on the left, typed in a few numbers on the pump’s touch screen and watched as the boarded-up windows pulled back to reveal a metal door. Hector went up to the door and, after a quick retinal scan, the door opened and Hector went inside. 

Inside the door was a small dark room. There was a desk, a phone and a computer, and a large arsenal of weapons – if you knew where to look. Hector looked around and was surprised to see he wasn’t alone. Sitting at the desk in front of him was an older man, overweight but with a nice suit. He looked across his desk at Hector and sighed. 

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, son,” said the man.

“Chief?” said Hector, “How did you know I’d be here?” 

“It’s my job to know what people are going to do before they do them.”

At this, Hector remained silent. The adrenaline was starting to leave him now and he could feel a rush of emotions washing over him. 

“Look, Hector, I’m sorry for your loss,” said the Chief.  “Caine was the best we had, I promise you, Sin Mancha will pay for this.”

“He said something, something about my parents…. He said he killed them.” 

The Chief sighed once more, his mustache trembling slightly.

“I should have told you this a long time ago, you deserve to know.” 

“Know what?” 

“Hector, your parents weren’t missionaries, they were agents.” 

“Agents? Like, MI6? How? My mom was American, wasn’t she?”

“She was, she was a CIA operative. We were running a joint-op in Chile and she partnered

with your dad.”

“My dad was MI6?”

“Nicholas? He was one of the best we ever had.” 

“And Sin Mancha killed them?”

“We think so, but we never could prove it.”

“Then how do you know it was him?”

“The op your parents were running was deep undercover. They were asked to live in the town of Chaquo, Chile. One of the world’s biggest mining conglomerates is based there and we received intel that this company was using illegal methods to intimidate local politicians. One of these illegal methods was Sin Mancha.”

“Sin Mancha works for the mining company?”

“Yes, your parents were investigating a string of missing people and they discovered the mining company was hiring Sin Mancha to take out politicians that stood in their way. They were tracking this case for eight years before he finally got them.”

“Sir, if what you say is true, then I’m going after him. I’ll get the proof we need to take down this mining company, and then I’ll kill Sin Mancha.” 

“Herrera, ever since we took you in after your parents died, you’ve been our most promising recruit, but this man is dangerous.”

“With all due respect, Sir, I’m going after him… no matter what you say.”

The Chief rubbed his forehead and took a long look at the young agent in front of him.

“I was afraid you’d say that. Here,” said the Chief. He picked up a piece of paper from his desk and handed it to Hector. Hector looked down and saw it was a plane ticket to Auckland.

“New Zealand?” Hector asked.

“Scotland Yard tipped us off an hour ago, someone spotted Sin Mancha boarding a private plane at Heathrow. We were too late to stop it, but we did manage to catch a view of the plane. It belongs to a smuggler based in Auckland. If you want Sin Mancha, that’s where you start.” 

Hector looked down at the ticket, then up at the Chief. 

“I won’t let him get away.” 

“Good. Stop by the lab and grab some gear. Your plane leaves tonight.”

Part Three

As the freighter pulled into port, Hector was more than ready to get off. He’d had extensive training in surviving any water-related emergency you can imagine, but two days aboard a Fijian cargo ship will test the faith of even Poseidon’s most devoted followers. 

Hector had decided to forego a flight straight into Auckland for fear that Sin Mancha might find out which plane he was on and try to bring it down before it could land. Hector couldn’t put that many innocent lives at risk, so he flew to Nadi, Fiji and used one of the Chief’s connections to secure a cabin aboard the cargo ship, Kava’s Revenge. Kava’s Revenge was carrying banned fruit into New Zealand and Hector was sure even Sin Mancha wasn’t up-to-date on the international maritime fruit smuggling routes. 

The freighter pulled into the Port of Auckland and Hector got off and went straight to the MI6 safe house in Auckland’s North Wharf. The safe house was located in the basement of Maloney’s Barber Shop and to access it, one simply had to walk up to the register and ask for a “Kiwi Surprise.” 

Hector did this and a tattooed barber named Julian led him downstairs into a dark room with a computer. Hector logged in and found a message from the Chief waiting for him.

“H – Sin Mancha spotted in Hamilton… one of our sources saw him having dinner at a place called the Gothenburg… take the white Holden Barina parked out back… keys under desk next to the pistol… Good luck… – C”

Hector pulled out his phone and saw that Hamilton was only an hour or so drive from Auckland. If he hurried, he would be able to make it to the Gothenburg by dinner time. Hector grabbed the keys and a black PPK from under the desk and went out to the alley. 

The Barina was nothing special, a white sedan with an all leather interior, but Hector suspected it would handle well if it came down to it. He turned the key and saw the Gothenburg was already plugged into the car’s GPS. Hector followed the route towards Hamilton.

An hour and a half later, Hector took the exit off Highway 1 towards Hamilton and followed the GPS through the town and down towards the river. Hamilton’s main drag was located on top of a hill overlooking the Waikato River. Hector turned down the main street and saw restaurants and souvenir shops sprouting up on both sides. He drove a few blocks until the GPS told him his destination was on the left. 

Hector parked on the street and followed a pedestrian path towards the Gothenburg. The restaurant was built into the hill and had an outdoor patio that overlooked the river. Hector followed the path down to the patio and the front entrance.  

Hector requested a table for one in the corner – always be able to see all the angles – and the hostess obliged. He took his seat and scanned the restaurant for any sign of Sin Mancha.  There was a large group of university students seated at a long table in the center of the room, they looked dangerous, but only to themselves. A few booths were filled by middle-aged couples enjoying a night out, and a lone woman sat at the bar chatting with the bartender. No sign of Sin Mancha, yet…

Hector tracked the waitress as she made her way towards him, his eyebrows raised at the glass of red wine in her left hand. 

“Complimentary wine, sir?” the waitress asked him in a sharp Kiwi accent.

Hector gave his best smile and replied, “I hope it’s a good one.” 

“Oh, it’s very nice sir. This is an imported Merlot from Spain, it’s a 2006.”

“Good year,” Hector replied, “which part of Spain is it from?” Hector didn’t like to brag but he considered himself something of an expert on Spanish wines. “It’s from a region just south of Madrid. It’s called… La Mancha.”

Alarm bells exploded in Hector’s mind and he slapped the glass out of the waitress’s hand and jumped to his feet. The waitress screamed as the glass crashed on the floor and the students looked around. Hector saw a flash of movement to his right and turned to see a man in a dark suit running towards the door. 

“Sin Mancha!” Hector shouted, but the man kept running. 

Hector threw his chair aside and ran. He burst out of the door and saw Sin Mancha on top of the hill. Hector chased him up the pedestrian path but Sin Mancha jumped into a two-door Lexus and screeched off down the street. Hector jumped in the Barina and followed. 

Sin Mancha could drive but Hector managed to stay with him. Hector was closing in when the Lexus hit a sharp left and skidded over a speed bump and onto a winding paved driveway. Hector pulled hard on his emergency brake and drifted around the corner and into an empty carpark. Hector opened the door and surveyed his surroundings. The carpark had only one exit and, although the sun had set, Hector could see a large sign reading, “Hamilton Gardens” marking the entrance. Hector sprinted down the sidewalk towards the Garden’s visitor center and was just in time to see Sin Mancha turn down a path towards the Paradise Garden Collection. 

Hector followed him down the path as tall hedges rose on either side of him. Hector ran a few more feet until the path opened onto a small circular courtyard with six doorways leading to more dirt paths. There was no sign of Sin Mancha. Hector glanced at a map on his left and saw that this area was the entrance to five separate enclosed gardens, each themed after a different historical period, but the only exit was the way he’d just come. Without knowing it, Sin Mancha had left himself with no way out.

There would be no escape this time, only one of them would be leaving the gardens alive…

Part Four

Hector stood in the courtyard, studying the ground for signs of which way Sin Mancha went, but there were too many footprints from the day’s tourists to tell him anything. He’d have to rely on every secret agent’s best friend: his gut.

Hector took another look at the map. From left to right, the five gardens were labeled “Japanese Contemplation”, “English Flower”, “Chinese Scholars”, “Indian Char Bagh”, and “Italian Renaissance.” Hector thought for a second before turning right and walking through the door for the Italian Renaissance garden.

Hector pulled out his weapon and attached the silencer he’d won in a game of dice aboard Kava’s Revenge. Better to keep this quiet. He followed the dirt path around a corner and emerged on the steps of what appeared to be an Italian Villa from the 1500’s. He was standing on a landing that overlooked a large open space. 

The marble steps led down to a large pool with green hedges outlining the pool’s edge, and an ornate fountain rising from the center of the water. Behind the pool was a pavilion that overlooked the river. A quick scan of the area told Hector that this was not the garden he was looking for. The open space and low hedges meant few good hiding spots, and Hector was certain Sin Mancha was not here. 

He returned to the courtyard and looked again at the map, there were four gardens left and Hector chose the path labeled Japanese Contemplation garden. Hector followed the path but instead of leading up, this one opened into a flat area with trees growing past the edges of the garden’s retaining walls. In front of him was a large wooden deck on top of which stood a small house with decorative designs where Hector assumed the contemplation took place. 

Hector walked onto the deck and peered into the house. It was one room with a small wooden bench and a fire for making tea. Seeing no signs of use, Hector scanned to his left where he saw a large sand garden sprawling across the remaining space. Beautiful rocks and Bonzi Trees complemented the patterns in the sand, but there were no footsteps to indicate Sin Mancha’s presence. 

Hector looked to the right of the deck and saw a large muddy pond reaching to the garden’s far wall. Unless Sin Mancha was an alter ego of David Blaine, he would have had to come up for air by now. To be thorough, Hector checked the pond for any suspicious open-ended straw shaped plants, but seeing none, he made his way back to the courtyard. 

Three gardens left and Hector’s anxiety was building. He went straight this time, following the path that led to the Chinese Scholar’s garden. As soon as he passed out of the courtyard, something about this garden felt different. Instead of opening onto another garden, this path widened and led to a white wall with a small clover-shaped opening in the center. Hector could feel his hands beginning to sweat as he tightened his grip on the pistol. He took a deep breath and walked through the opening. 

Inside the first wall was a short, narrow tunnel shrouded in darkness by overgrown vines stretching across the wooden beams above him. Twenty feet in front of him, the tunnel opened through another door, this time in the shape of a circle. Hector crept as quietly as he could, pausing at the doorway before placing his right foot on the other side.

BANG!

Hector heard a whoosh of air and the ground next to his foot exploded, sending small rocks flying everywhere. Hector pulled his foot back to safety before reaching his hand past the door and firing two shots for cover. He heard a man yell and used this opportunity to dive into the open, rolling behind a large rock for cover.

Hector was in the Scholar’s garden now with his back against the rock. He glanced around the left side to get a view of his surroundings. The circular entrance to the garden was on his right, in front of him was another muddy pond with a dirt path that wrapped around the outside. Halfway across the pond, a curved wooden bridge cut across the water and in the middle of the bridge stood Sin Mancha. 

CRACK!

The rock next to Hector’s head splintered and he ducked back behind it just in time to avoid being hit by the shrapnel. Hector rose up just above the center of the rock and unloaded at the bridge. Sin Mancha sprinted, wooden beams exploding in his wake. 

Hector resumed his chase, running across the path, firing enough shots to keep Sin Mancha on the run. Hector turned and ran low across the bridge, but by now Sin Mancha was nowhere to be seen. The path continued on the other side of the pond, but this time it rose up a small hill, wooden steps leading through a clearing in the bamboo trees that towered on either side of the path. Hector stopped to listen for any sign of Sin Mancha, but all he could hear was the loud cracking of the bamboo as it swayed in the wind. 

Hector continued up the path, gun ready to fire at any sudden movements. He followed the stairs up and around as the path led out of the bamboos trees onto a grassy hill that overlooked the pond and the now-ruined bridge on one side, and a steep drop to the river on the other.  

As soon as Hector stepped clear of the trees there was a rustling to his left and he spun, but he was too late. Sin Mancha had the drop on him and his gun was pointed at Hector’s chest.

“Nice try, kid,” laughed Sin Mancha. “Better men than you have died in front of my gun.” 

Hector couldn’t resist, “Like my father?” 

“Ask him yourself,” said Sin Mancha. He pulled the trigger.

Part Five

Expecting pain, all Hector heard was a click. He looked up and saw his would-be killer looking in surprise at his gun.

“Out of bullets. I guess it’s your lucky day kid.”

Before Hector could react, Sin Mancha turned and jumped from the far side of the hill. Hector ran after him but all he could see was the cliff edge and a fifty-foot drop to the river below.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something and when he turned Hector saw Sin Mancha gliding across the horizon, using a parachute to land gracefully on a boat waiting below. 

Cursing himself for letting Sin Mancha get away, Hector kicked the dirt path in front of him. As the small cloud of dust settled, Hector saw a piece of paper covered by dirt. He bent down and picked it up. It was a receipt from a seafood market called Claudio’s Quality Seafoods. One look at his Trip Advisor app let Hector know Claudio’s was located in the Sydney Fish Market. 

Hector smiled, picked up his phone and dialed, it was time to let the Chief know he was headed to Australia. 

The Chief got Hector transport on a private plane leaving the next day for Sydney. Hector’s cover was as a flight attendant, which he almost blew after a mishap involving a botched Bloody Mary – Hector never bothered to learn how to make one, he considered the drink to be blasphemous to the idea of both alcohol and food – but the pilot was able to smooth things over by promising free pilot’s wings to the entire flight. Hector left the plane as soon as they landed and once again cursed whomever first thought of the nauseating combo of tomato juice and vodka. 

Once in Sydney, Hector hailed a cab and set out for the Sydney Fish Market. He wasn’t sure how Sin Mancha was getting to Sydney, it was possible Hector arrived first. If so, it was also possible he could finally get the drop on Sin Mancha. 

The driver let Hector off on a road that ran parallel to the water, Hector thanked him and asked if the man knew Claudio’s. 

“Claudio’s?” the driver repeated laughing.

“You know it?” 

The driver’s face turned serious, “Never heard of it.”

After getting dropped off, Hector walked toward the market. Expecting to see a square full of vendors, Hector was surprised when he turned the corner and saw a large asphalt parking lot. Cars filled most of the lot and Hector realized that the “market” was really a number of stores surrounding the lot’s perimeter. 

Hector scanned the area and saw it. Across the parking lot, kitty-corner from where he was standing, a large red awning jutted out from a small blue building reading, Claudio’s Seafood. Hector reached for his pistol but thought better of it. It was midday and the market was swarming with tourists looking for a fresh piece of sashimi. 

Hector crossed the parking lot, head on a swivel for any sign of Sin Mancha. Seeing none, Hector did a lap around the perimeter of Claudio’s, looking for anything out of the ordinary. As he reached the back entrance of the building, he saw a metal door marked ‘private.’ Hector moved closer and saw the door was ajar. He opened it and went inside. 

The door led to a damp broom closet that smelled of fish. Inside the closet, Hector had enough room to turn around, but nothing more. Realizing this was a dead-end, he turned and opened the door to go back outside.

He took one step before something cold and slimy connected with his cheek with a force that caused Hector to stumble backward. Hector tried to regain his bearings but a wet goo was stinging his left eye, and now he was being hit over and over again with the same cold, wet object. 

Hector dove forward and rolled over to face his attacker. He had just enough time to see Sin Mancha running at him, the carcass of a giant yellowfin tuna raised over his head. Sin Mancha swung the tuna down but Hector dodged to his right. He kicked the tuna and it slipped out of Sin Mancha’s hands and rolled across the ground. A French tourist nearby cried out at the waste of Otoro, but Hector ignored him. He aimed a punch at Sin Mancha’s head and felt his knuckles graze hair follicles as Sin Mancha ducked. 

Sin Mancha ran through the back entrance of Claudio’s and people began to yell. Hector gave chase but he felt his foot connect with something solid and he struggled to keep his balance. A large wooden box fell from the impact and cracked open on the floor, in an instant the giant stone crabs inside burst to life and scuttled their way towards freedom. The crabs snapped at the tourists unlucky enough to be in their way, and now the customers of Claudio’s were screaming, some trying to smash the crabs under foot and others running for safety. 

Amidst this chaos, Hector saw Sin Mancha duck out the front entrance and ran after him. He was sure Sin Mancha wouldn’t risk taking a shot in this crowded place, killing a tourist would mean international heat, and even Sin Mancha didn’t want that. Hector reached the open parking lot and sprinted full speed. 

He was just a foot behind Sin Mancha now and he reached out his left hand. His fingertips made contact with Sin Mancha’s collar and Hector closed his hand and pulled down hard. The unexpected force caused Sin Mancha to stumble, and soon the two men were falling together, tangled and rolling across the parking lot. 

Hector regained his feet and made to grab Sin Mancha again. In front of him, Sin Mancha was getting to his feet, his shirt had been torn off in the struggle revealing his bare back and the terrifying tattoo across it.

Part Six

The tattoo depicted a gravestone that stretched from just above Sin Mancha’s waistline to the center of his shoulder blades. On the gravestone were small portraits of people’s faces, from the two faces he recognized in the top left, Hector assumed these must be Sin Mancha’s victims. Above the gravestone, stretching from shoulder to shoulder, was massive gothic lettering that read, “El Sin Mancha.” 

Sin Mancha turned and laughed that cold laugh that made Hector’s skin crawl. 

“What’s the matter, kid?” sneered Sin Mancha. 

“I… I don’t understand,” said Hector. 

“Didn’t your mommy ever teach you our native language? Or did I kill her before she could?” 

“I speak it!” yelled Hector.

“Then you know what it means, El Sin Mancha… The Untainted. You know why they call me that? Because all those faces on my back have tried and not one ever managed to put a bullet in me. My body remains pure.” 

Now it was Hector’s turn to smile, “Then I’ll be the first!” He pulled his pistol out, no longer caring about the massive crowd behind them that was still trying to evade the stone crabs. 

But once again, Sin Mancha was too quick, he dove left and picked up a small boy, who moments before had been laughing and using his grandfather’s walking stick in a high-stakes game of crab whack-a-mole. 

“Let him go,” said Hector, his eyes and pistol focused squarely on the assassin. 

“I will,” said Sin Mancha, backing up to the edge of the asphalt lot. Behind him, there were ten feet of grass before wooden docks jutted out into the port. 

“Now!” yelled Hector. 

“As you wish,” said Sin Mancha. He bent down and hurled the boy over the grass and into the sea beyond. 

Hector cussed and ran after the boy, jumping into the water and dragging the boy’s sputtering head above water. Floating, Hector turned just in time to see Sin Mancha jumping aboard a large speed-boat tied to one of the docks. By the time Hector got to shore, the boat was lost amidst the leisure sailors out for a day in the sun and the large freighters bringing fresh fish to the market. 

“Chief, I don’t know what to say. Every time I get close he manages to slip away. It’s like he’s… untouchable.” 

Hector was lying in bed, the hotel phone to his ear and the Chief’s voice ringing back at him from the other end. 

“No one is untouchable, we just need to find a way to stop reacting and get ahead of him. We need to find out where he’ll be so we can be waiting.”

“How do we do that? Sin Mancha leaves almost no trace and we’ve already tried having our best hackers get into his network. What else can we do?” asked Hector.

“Our best hackers…” said the Chief, his voice sounded far away.

“Right, our best hackers,” repeated Hector. 

“But not the best hackers,” said the Chief as though this cleared everything up. There was silence for a minute as Hector waited for the Chief to elaborate. 

“Uh, Chief?” asked Hector after the silence became too uncomfortable. 

“What? Huh… right, sorry son, old age… you know how it is. Anyway, I know how we can finally get ahead of Sin Mancha. If we play this right, we can catch that bastard once and for all.” 

“Great,” said Hector, “What do you need me to do?”

“Catch the first flight to Vietnam.” 

As the Chief explained his plan, Hector found himself nodding, it could work. They couldn’t keep following tips and clues to guess Sin Mancha’s location. They had to find a way to know for sure where he would be and when. It was the only way to take him by surprise. The Chief told Hector that while their hackers were unable to break into Sin Mancha’s network, there was one hacker they hadn’t tried, a hacker many considered the best in the world, a man named Mr. Dennis. 

“Mr. Dennis?” Hector asked, eyebrows raised.

“They say he thinks the name helps him keep a low profile. Law Enforcement is going to be on the lookout for Hackers named Anarchy and Ransom, but Mr. Dennis? That sounds like your elderly neighbor.” 

“I guess… Where do I find him?”

“Our intelligence has him living in Vietnam, a city called Da Lat.” 

“Da Lat?”

“It’s a few hours north of Ho Chi Minh in the mountains of central Vietnam. Go there, and I’ll arrange a meeting. Mr. Dennis occasionally does one-off jobs for MI6 if the price is right.” 

“Is the price going to be right on this one? How much does the best hacker in the world charge, anyway?” asked Hector. 

“Don’t you worry about that son, I’ve got personal assurances from the Queen on this one. She flagged the capture of Sin Mancha as a top priority after he burned down her favorite tea plantation and salted the earth so it could never grow back. This was a few years back in an attempt to intimidate MI6 to give up chasing him.”

“He destroyed the Queen’s favorite tea!?” exclaimed Hector, this was bold, even for Sin Mancha.

“He did, and the Queen personally told me that we need to capture him to send a message to the rest of the world.”

“What message is that?” asked Hector. 

“No one messes with the Queen’s tea.”

Part Seven

Feeling inspired by the chance to avenge the Queen, Hector left the next day for Vietnam. It was a long flight from Sydney and he used his time to reflect on what his life had become. A month ago, he was pairing up with his first partner, the legendary agent Caine, ready to learn from the best. Now, Caine was dead and Hector was alone, going after the world’s deadliest assassin. Life comes at you fast, he thought as he flipped through the movies on the small screen in front of him. He settled on Battle of the Sexes – Hector had been a huge Emma Stone fan ever since her legendary turn as Gwen Stacy in The Amazing Spiderman 2 – and leaned back in his chair to get some rest. 

When Hector landed, The Chief sent him a message saying Hector was to meet Mr. Dennis in a local bar that night. 

“100 Rooftops Maze bar,” read the encrypted text from the Chief. “Midnight, don’t be late.” 

Maze Bar? Hector wondered what that meant, but he replied he would be there and set off to his hotel to get ready. 

At 11:45 that night, Hector set out. Google told him it was only a 5-minute walk from his place, and as far as he could tell it was located in a busy tourist district. It seemed odd to Hector that a mysterious hacker would hang out in such a crowded area. 

Hector wound his way through narrow streets as people on motorbikes zoomed by him. The sidewalks were crowded with street vendors and Hector resisted the urge to try the kaleidoscope of street meats that surrounded him. At last, Hector turned up an alleyway and walked to the end. The alley emerged onto another street, this one winding up a small hill with bars and hotels populating the buildings on either side. Bright neon signs lit up the night, and to his left, Hector saw a small square sign that read The Maze Bar. 

The front of the bar was smaller than Hector expected, the building looked squished in between the tall hotels on either side. He wondered what 100 rooftops meant and how they could possibly fit into this place. 

Inside, Hector could see two stairways, one that led up to the landing above and one that led down, presumably to a basement. Mr. Dennis never specified where in this bar he would be, so Hector went down to the basement, figuring he could check the smaller space and then search upstairs. 

However, Hector’s hopes of a quick basement search were dashed when he got to the bottom of the staircase. The space in front of him stretched out into two passageways, both narrow and dark. He followed the passageway to his left and noticed the walls were made of what looked like sandstone. There were carvings in the wall and Hector realized this basement was meant to resemble an underwater shipwreck. 

The walls were covered with carvings of stingrays and treasure chests, and every time he got to the end of a passageway it opened into a small room with three more paths to choose from. Hector spent 20 minutes exploring the basement, aside from a few drunken tourists laughing at how lost they were, he saw no sign of Mr. Dennis.

After Hector felt sure he explored every possible hiding place in the basement, Hector backtracked to the front room of the bar and followed the staircase upstairs to the landing. Once again, Hector underestimated the Maze Bar’s architects. On the top level, there were even more winding paths and secret rooms. The floor and walls were still made of stone, but now there were trees growing through holes in the walls and vines that wrapped their way around the stone pillars. Wooden chairs protruded from the walls and staircases led up to so many different levels that it seemed impossible for them all to reside in such a small building. 

Hector kept following his inner compass towards the back of the building and emerged from the top level to find himself facing a hill that rose up behind the bar. This hill was filled with even more winding staircases and tree branches tied together for railings. By the light of the surrounding city, Hector could make out small patios and nooks hidden in the shadows. 

Hector saw the paths led all directions but they converged at the top of the hill onto a large landing. He couldn’t make out what was on the landing, but it looked deserted. If Mr. Dennis was anywhere in this bar, it was there. 

After 10 more minutes of hiking, and an accidental discovery of an adventurous couple behind a false door, Hector found the path that led to the landing on the top of the hill. He walked up the stone staircase and saw that it opened onto a large stone rooftop that overlooked the entire city. 

As Hector walked onto the rooftop, he heard a voice from behind him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Hector spun around and saw a figure sitting at a circular table behind him, the figure was shrouded in shadows. 

“Mr. Dennis?” Hector asked. 

The figure laughed, “Classic, I never get tired of hearing serious people like you say such a stupid name.” 

“You chose it,” said Hector. He pulled up a chair. 

“It gets boring sometimes being a hacker,” said Mr. Dennis from the shadows, “You need to think of ways to keep yourself entertained.” 

“And that’s your way?”

“Well, that, and it throws people off the scent. You’d be surprised how many supposed “intelligence” professionals don’t even think to look for anything else once they hear the mister.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Mr. Dennis leaned forward and an overhead light in the corner of the rooftop illuminated his face. Hector saw it wasn’t a him at all — Mr. Dennis… was a woman.

Part Eight

“You’re a woman?” sputtered Hector. 

Mr. Dennis laughed, “Surprised?” she replied. 

“Obviously.”

“Good, I wouldn’t want any uninvited guests turning up at my door asking questions. One little Mr. is all it takes and my real name never even comes across anyone’s radar.” 

“Very clever,” said Hector.

“Thank you, now what do you want? The Chief said you have a job for me.”

Hector eyed Mr. Dennis. She was a young woman around his age. She was a native of Vietnam but her English was perfect. He guessed she must have gone to university in the States. Either that or prison. 

“We do have a job. Have you ever heard of a man called Sin Mancha?” Hector asked.

“Of course. World’s deadliest assassin and all that?” 

“That’s the one. I’m tracking him and I’m going to take him down. But I need your help.”

“What do you need me to do?” asked Mr. Dennis. She was eyeing Hector now, a slight smile on her lips. 

“I need to know where he’s going to be. I need to know what his next move is and I need to be there before he is.”

“So, you want me to hack into his network and tell you where he’s going?” 

“Exactly, I know it’s a hard task but they said you’re the best. Can you do it?” 

Mr. Dennis remained silent, her face was stoic and she put her hand on her chin as if thinking hard. Then she smiled. She leaned back in her chair looking satisfied,

“It’s already done.”

“What!?” Hector said. “I just told you about the mission, how could it be done?”

“Nah, the Chief told me what it was when he asked me to do the job. I hacked into Sin Mancha’s mainframe yesterday. I can tell you exactly where he will be every minute of every day for the next month.”

Hector’s mouth fell open, shocked. He managed to stutter, “…H…How?”

“Look, Hector, I could try to explain it to you, but you really wouldn’t understand. It would just end up sounding like a bunch of high-tech buzzwords and you’d just take my word that it happened. So, let’s skip the explaining, assume it’s done and move forward.”

Hector was speechless. 

“There,” said Mr. Dennis, pulling out her phone and pressing a button. Hector’s phone buzzed in his pocket. “I just sent Sin Mancha’s entire mainframe to your mobile. That should be everything you need.” 

“Uh, thank you… Wait, if you already took the job, and I’m assuming you already got paid, why did you want to meet me?” Hector asked. 

“I wanted to make sure you were good enough to take down Sin Mancha. I don’t want him finding out I helped if you don’t get him.” 

“And you think I’m good enough?” said Hector, pride swelling. 

“Sheesh, Hector, I’m just kidding! I’ve known you for five minutes, who knows if you’re good enough,” laughed Mr. Dennis. “I don’t care if you take down Sin Mancha or not, although considering it took you thirty minutes to find me and your only obstacle was a slightly confusing tourist bar, I’d say you probably won’t.” 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Hector muttered. 

“Thanks for the money!” said Mr. Dennis. She stood up, patted Hector on the back and disappeared into the night. 

Hector sat at the table for another hour thinking. Maybe Mr. Dennis was right, how could he, a rookie with no experience, take down the world’s deadliest assassin? Was this all just a winding journey around the world that would end in his own demise? Hector stood up, walked to the edge of the rooftop and peered out onto the bright lights of the city. He saw a half-empty beer that Mr. Dennis left and picked it up. He took a deep breath and chugged it, wondering if it would be the last beer he ever had.  

Part Nine

The next morning, Hector woke up with a splitting headache. He ended up drinking 8 “last beers he would ever have” at the Maze Bar and he was paying for it now. His head groggy, Hector rolled over and checked his phone. She may have been mean, but Mr. Dennis did not lie. Hector’s phone had a new folder on the home screen marked “Sin Mancha” and when he clicked on it his eyes lit up. Everything from emails, texts and even a calendar was available to him now. 

Hector scrolled through, looking for something that would give him an edge over Sin Mancha. After a few minutes, Hector found what he was looking for. 

In a folder marked, “Jobs”, Hector saw there was one email sent that morning. Sin Mancha replied to an email from MQueen1964, asking him to take care of a small problem for her. The email included a picture and coordinates. Sin Mancha’s response was short, consider it done. 

Hector plugged the coordinates into his phone and saw they marked a small island in the south of Thailand. The island was a major tourist destination called Krabi. Hector ran the picture through the MI6 database and found a match for a pro-environmental politician from Australia. 

Hector cross-referenced this politician for any recent news hits and found a puff piece in the town’s local paper with the headline, “In between fight to save the earth, local politician takes well-deserved time off to enjoy it.” The article went on to detail how the politician was taking his family on a beach vacation in Thailand. Hector didn’t have to read anymore to know which beach it would be. 

“I’ve got it Chief, he’s going after a politician taking holiday in Thailand!” Hector shouted as soon as the Chief picked up his phone. 

“Great,” replied the Chief. “How much time do we have?”

“According to Sin Mancha’s calendar, he’s flying there in three days. If I can fly out tomorrow, I can beat him there and be ready when he arrives.” 

“This is it, son, are you ready for this?” asked the Chief. 

“Uh, honestly I’m not really sure… this is all kind of harder than I thought it would be,” said Hector. 

“Glad to hear it,” said the Chief. “Wait, what? Sorry, I was expecting you to say something like ‘born ready’ or ‘you already know’, that’s what the other agents usually say when I ask them.” 

“Oh sorry, Chief. I just am a little scared I guess.” 

“Well, don’t worry. Just give it your all, be yourself and you’ll do great,” said the Chief. 

“What? I’m not sure that really applies here, Chief,” said Hector. 

“What’s that? Sorry, Herrera, I have to go, call me when it’s done,” said the Chief in a hurried voice. 

“Wait, Chief!” but there was a click on the other end of the line and Hector knew he was on his own. 

That night, Hector took a sleeper train to the south end of Thailand, it was a dingy train but Hector knew his parents would have done whatever it took to get Sin Mancha. When the train arrived the next morning, Hector rented a car and drove the rest of the way to Krabi, playing his Harry Potter audiobook for comfort. 

Inspired by Harry’s triumph over the dragon in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Hector felt ready to take on anything. Sin Mancha might have skills and experience and knowledge he didn’t, but Hector had something Sin Mancha didn’t. He was young. 

Sin Mancha was in good shape for his age, but Hector was entering his prime. Hector’s research showed him the coordinates were for a secluded resort located on the side of a mountain. Just getting there required an intense hike and some semi-difficult rock climbing. The politician, whose family were all experienced climbers, chose the resort for this exact reason, but Hector knew that at Sin Mancha’s age, the climb would be difficult and Hector could use that to his advantage. 

Hector spent the day trekking the path to the resort. It started at a beautiful tourist beach called Railay Beach and wound through a forest and up a cliffside before reaching a clearing on top of the mountain. In addition to the steep incline and the hot weather, there was a fork in the road halfway up the mountain that, if you took the wrong way, led to a hidden lagoon called Cassius Cove. 

A local guide told Hector the cove was named that for a legendary crocodile that supposedly lived in the lagoon. People who saw the croc said he was 20 feet long with a mouth big enough to swallow a child whole. The locals discovered the crocodile fifty years prior when the local cattle kept disappearing. One poor soul found the cattle, or what was left of them, lined up around a hidden lagoon on the mountain. After that, a local elder pronounced the lagoon cursed, and although no one really believed that, there was still a giant crocodile that lived there so no one wanted to go back. 

Nobody knew if the crocodile was still alive, but the resort warned all hikers to stay away from the path that led to the lagoon. Hector scouted the path but when he reached the lagoon he saw no signs of a crocodile, just a large secluded space with lots of places to hide. In other words, the perfect place to get the drop on Sin Mancha.

Part Ten

The day had come. Everything was in place and Hector set out. When the politician’s boat arrived, Hector tailed them to make sure they got to their resort safely. He didn’t expect any attacks along the way, knew the assassin was still a few hours out. Still, with Sin Mancha, you couldn’t be too careful. Posing as a fellow hiker, Hector followed as the family backpacked up to the resort. 

After a while, the family paused at a fork in that path. Hector could see the politician examining the sign reading, “NO ENTRY, DANGER.” Hector was relieved when the family continued towards the resort. When he was sure the family was safe, Hector turned his attention to Sin Mancha. 

Hector doubled back until he reached the fork in the path. He put two hands on the warning sign and pulled hard. The earth below the sign gave way and Hector pulled it free. He walked to the other side of the fork and set the sign back in the ground so it appeared that the resort path was the one to avoid. His trap laid, Hector climbed down to his hiding place, sure to leave footprints leading to the cove. 

After two hours, Hector was anxious, but then he heard a noise. From the fork in the path, getting to the lagoon required scaling three cliff sides, each over ten feet tall. This was tough even for Hector, he was counting on it being tougher for Sin Mancha. Hector looked up and was pleased to see Sin Mancha standing on top of the last cliff before the lagoon. 

Hector watched as Sin Mancha struggled to make his way down the final cliff. He heard Sin Mancha curse as he stumbled after jumping the final few feet down. 

Sin Mancha walked past and Hector could hear the assassin’s heavy breathing. He watched as Sin Mancha walked to the edge of the water and looked around.

“Where the fu—” Sin Mancha began, but he never got to finish. 

Hector sprinted towards the assassin and speared him into the shallow water at the edge of the lagoon. Hector was on top of the assassin using all his strength to hold Sin Mancha under water. Hector’s grip was tight but he felt a blow to his back as Sin Mancha knocked him off.

The assassin struggled to gain his footing, taking a few steps back into the deepening water. His vision blurred as he looked around frantically, searching for his young attacker. Sin Mancha’s eyes came into focus just in time to see the figure of a man in front of him with a gun pointed directly at his chest. 

“WAIT!” screamed Sin Mancha. “I can explain everything!” 

“Why should I?” answered Hector. “Did you give my parent’s a chance to explain?”

“Because I can tell you who gave the order to kill your parents. I’m just a pawn, can’t you see that? I had nothing against your parents, it was someone else who wanted them dead.” 

“Tell me the name.” 

“If I tell you, will you let me live?” 

“It can’t hurt your chances,” said Hector.

“Wait… is that from… the Dark Knight?”

“It doesn’t matter where it’s from!” shouted Hector, “I’m the one with the gun pointing at your heart and if you don’t tell me who gave the order to kill my parents I will pull the trigger!”

“Okay, just calm down, I’ll tell you. The person who gave the order is Marisa Colbera.” 

“The head of the Chaquo copper-mining conglomerate?” Hector asked.

“Yes! She’s the CEO and head of the family. They control mining operations all over the world.”

“Why would Maris Colbera want my parents dead?” 

“Because, these mines are dangerous, they pollute everywhere they go and leave the environment in ruins. But if they’re built, the company makes billions. There’s usually local resistance to the mines so Colbera hires me to ‘remove any obstacles’ to the mine’s construction.” 

“And my parents were one of these obstacles?”

“Exactly, they were getting too close to the truth. If it came out that the head of a Fortune 500 company was having people killed to push through dirty mines, it would be the end of the company. Too many people stood to lose so they had to be taken care of.” 

“I see,” said Hector. 

“Alright, I told you everything, you can’t kill me now. Please! I told you what you wanted.” 

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you, but I don’t have to save you,” said Hector with a grin.

“What do you mean? Wait, isn’t that also Batm…”

“You never did learn to mind your surroundings, Sin Mancha,” interrupted Hector.

“Okay, that’s definitely from…” but at that moment there was a huge splash in the water behind Sin Mancha and he felt a searing pain in his leg. Sin Mancha screamed and looked behind him to see a massive scaled figure stretching out across the lagoon behind him. 

The beast opened its mouth and crushed down again, snapping Sin Mancha’s leg under the force of its bite. 

“Herrera, help me!” shouted the assassin. But Hector just smiled as the massive crocodile swam back into the lagoon, Sin Mancha’s leg still firmly in his grasp as he sunk deeper and deeper into the water. 

As Sin Mancha’s final scream was muffled by the water’s surface, Hector turned and walked away. He didn’t want to see any more death and he knew what lay ahead for the assassin. 

What Hector didn’t know was what lay ahead for him, but as he hiked up the cliffs and back towards the beach, thoughts of Marisa Colbera filled his head. 

Her time will come, Hector thought, but first, he would enjoy a real holiday. Hector reached the beach and found a chair to lay down. He stretched out and examined the tattoo on his forearm. He, Hector Herrera, just put the first, and last, stain on the legendary Sin Mancha.

His parents would be proud.