Jonathan stands patiently on the poop deck of the fishing boat, waiting for it to arrive at its unknown destination. He stands silently smoking a cigarette and just staring blankly onto the deep horizon of the ocean. His thoughts were in bewilderment as to what he has signed up for. It’s all been very hush-hush. The boat itself is smaller than what he expected and it smelled like backend of a fish’s arse. The only reason he could think of for the size is that the people here don’t want to attract attention. The whole journey reminds him of the last time he was on a major boat journey. He doesn't even remember it. He was a baby and was being smuggled out of Cuba by his mother.
 
Mother. A painful name to ring through Jonathan’s mind. He then shook his head to get rid of the pain but only temporarily. He finished smoking the last of his cigarette and pinged into the ocean. He turns around and faces towards the front of the ship. In the distance was some sort of mansion, a hotel almost. It was seated comfortably on an island. If this is where we’ll be staying, then what kind of travelling are we doing?

The island was getting closer and closer, so Jonathan picked up his old worn out sports bag and started to move towards point of exit. Just before the boat started to dock, he looked around at the rest of the invitees. They were a strange bunch. Some old, some young, some looked combat trained and some looked like they had never held a weapon in their lives. Jonathan didn’t spend too much time analyzing. The one he learned at the SFPD is never to make assumptions based on old perceptions. He’ll get to know the team in due time.

Jonathan made his way onto the dock from the boat. He and the others were met by an unknown man who seemed to be their guide in some sense. The group followed the man unto the mansion. It was quite an old but large building. There hints of plants growing on the walls. He can tell that someone has spent awful amount of money to restore it. The ‘posse’ entered the lobby. It lobby was nothing special. It looked like the inside of another hotel, just like he expected. I’m not sure the renovator wanted anything special. This gives him the feeling that, even though he and the others will be living here, they are probably not going to spend much time here. 

Once everyone was directed to their rooms, they were all told that instructions and directions will be revealed to them the following morning, for now we had make ourselves acquainted with our new rooms. Jonathan opened the door to his new living space. It was a simple bedroom. A double bed with white sheets, pillows and a colourful, patterned cover. It had a wardrobe, a desk, some chairs and its own personal bathroom. The only word to describe was straightforward. Jonathan threw his bag onto the floor and fell backwards onto the floor, staring at the ceiling. What will tomorrow hold for all of us?