He opened his eyes and lifted his chin off his chest. He blinked as he looked around. Franks lay snoring on the wooden floor of the porch, the hand on his chest still holding on to the empty bottle of cerveza. Maria slept curled on her side, her head resting on the older man's thigh. He had no idea what time of night it was. He no longer wore a watch. He made to stand but his head was spinning and he fell heavily back in his chair. A bottle rolled at his feet. He chuckled to himself before trying again, this time somehow managing to hold himself up.
Holding on to the wooden railings he groggily descended the few steps leading to the beach. The sand felt cool under his bare feet as he stumbled forwards towards the water's edge.
It was a clear night. The sea was calm, lit by a full moon and a million stars. The waves idly rolled to and fro onto the sand. He stepped ankle deep into the water and raised his face to the sky.
He stood there, a lone figure in a loose white shirt, taking in the smell of the sea. Feeling the gentle breeze caressing his sunburnt skin. Feeling free.
No cell phone ringing. No case to solve. No lives to save. Just this. The sea, the sky and himself. Not the marine. Not the agent. Just the man.
He dropped down on the sand with a satisfied sigh and lay on his back, his arms outstretched on the sand, palms up facing the sky. The water still played at his feet. Its sound music to his ears. Lulling him back to sleep.