Clutching his can of Coke, Susanto led Cruz to the villa's enormous patio. Things had changed: in addition to the two grim-faced, sun-glassed gentlemen with sniper rifles, there were four young women in skimpy bathing suits.
Two of them were sitting on the edge of the swimming pool, backs turned, legs dangling in the water; the other two were busy exchanging confidences under an enormous beach umbrella that also shaded a small bar counter and four tall bar stools. The counter and the stools were made of bamboo, and had a vaguely Polynesian air about them.
Susanto and Cruz stopped in the entrance to the patio. Cruz stopped because he was following Susanto, and Susanto stopped because he wanted to look at the women. The two that were sitting by the pool were undoubtedly professional whores, with asses sculpted in silicone or whatever the fuck they'd had injected into their buttocks. Although he was viewing them from behind, Susanto was sure they both had gigantic tits.
