After parking the Lamborghini in a parking space on the far side of the parking lot, since that was the only parking spot that was left, Zach climbs out of the driver's seat and goes around to open Cammie's door. She looks at him bashfully, and steps out to put her arm in his.

Grant and Bex climb out of the backseat and start walking across the parking lot. Bex elbows him in the side and hisses, "Now that's what a real gentleman looks like," while cocking her head towards Zach. Grant rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"There's no pleasing you," Grant complains. The four spies wait in line at the door until they're finally at the front of the line. The bouncer stands in front of the door with his large biceps crossed.

"Identificación, por favor," the bouncer thunders in a deep baritone voice. The spies hold out their I.D.'s as he checks them. Once he finds them suitable, the bouncer steps aside. "Gracias."

"De nada," Grant replies. Zach smirks. His friend was always using excuses to use any one of the many foreign languages they learned at Blackthorne Academy, just because he thought it made him seem smart.

Inside Bailando Sucio, the dancefloor was packed full of individuals of Miami's Spanish population. The DJ held a set of headphones to one ear while the other hand was busy flipping CD tracks, scratching the disks, and adjusting the volume as needed. A throbbing bass beat filled the air and the chests of everybody in the area.

Cammie slipped her hand from Zach's arm into his hand as he lead her through the crowd over to the bar. They take a seat in the first two barstools they see to scope out the front door. While Zach orders their drinks from the bartender, Cammie turns around and asks into her comms unit, "Liz? What exactly does Mr. Montejo look like?"

"He's Mexican, as you could obviously tell by his last name, and he has black hair with tannish skin and brown eyes-"

"Liz, that basically describes every single Mexican guy in here. Which there are a lot of. So be more specific, please?" Cammie asks.

"Well, he has short black hair that's usually gelled up into spikes, and he has a small freckle on his left temple. He may have a lip piercing or he may not, so look for that. And he has a vertical black tattoo on his upper bicep from fraternity days, but it may be covered too. Oh, and he's pretty short, about five foot, seven inches. He's obsessed with soccer too, so he may wear a jersey. That enough information, Chameleon?" Liz asks.

"Si, señorita," Cammie sings. She turns to Zach, whom the bartender has just walked away from. He was smirking at her. "What?"

"I think we just may have our target," Zach boasts, looking through the crowd to the dancefloor. Cammie follows his gaze and sees a short Spanish man with spiky gelled hair and a navy soccer jersey. As he turned, Cammie could also see his lip piercing and the freckle on his temple, though his tattoo was covered by the sleeves of his jersey.

"Let's go dance," Cammie suggests, pulling Zach away from the bar before their drinks even arrived. They manage to get a spot on the dancefloor somewhat near Mr. Montejo so they can keep an eye on him.

The song changes to Go Girl by Pitbull, one of the songs Cammie remembers from Bex's iPod. The crowd on the dancefloor lets out a drunken cheer as they recognize the song too, the bass beat pounding in their chests. Cammie immediately begins swinging her hips back and forth to the beat along with the dozens of girls around her who were dancing with their own guys.

"My success and my misfortunes,
the bright and the dark days I have gone through,
everything has proved to me that in this world,
either physical or moral,
good comes out of evil just as well as evil comes out of good."
- Giacomo Casanova

Zach steps behind Cammie and puts his hands on her hips, dancing however guys do. She didn't have the urge to turn her head and see how Zach danced. Suddenly a drunk guy goes stumbling past them, singing and slurring at the top of his voice along with Pitbull, "I party like a rock-star, look like a movie-star, play like all all-star, fuck like a porn-star, baby, I'm a super-star!" before disappearing into the crowd once more.

Zach lowers his lips to Cammie's ear and murmurs, "So what's the plan, Cam?"

For some reason, most likely because his hands on his hips, shivers shoot up her spine. Cammie bites her lip and scans the dancers in front of her, mainly watching Mr. Montejo. At the moment, he was pressed up against the back of some slut and practically having air-sex, with their clothes on, of course. A bottle of liquor was in his hand, which he held high in the air, which would be easier to keep track on him.

The song changes to a faster tempo, and the crowd sings along, "Go girl, go girl, go girl, go girl!" Cammie's hips shimmy back and forth, and she hardly notices, since it was now more of a subconscious response instead of a dance move she really needs to focus on. Soon the beat slows down once more and she resumes dancing as she had in the beginning.

Zach bends his head down more so his ear was by Cammie's mouth, which she'd turned to the side to be able to reply to him since he was behind her. "I think that the next time Mr. Montejo leaves the dancefloor, we should follow him and somehow get him to leave the club," Cammie says over the music.

Zach nods and replies, "How are we going to get him to come out?"

"I guess I'll think of it when we get there," Cammie answers, "For now, just keep an eye on him." Zach nods again instead of replying and they both turn to look at Mr. Montejo.

He now had his hand on the slut's back, and she was bent forward at the ninety degree angle, bouncing her butt on Mr. Montejo's crotch. Cammie shudders in disgust, and Zach laughs, having had felt the tremors from his hands on her hips.

Suddenly loud, high-pitched beeping comes over the stereos. Cammie can't remember this part of the song, so she just watches a few of the girls around her. One girl was singing along, "…When I back it up, like a Mack truck!"

The beeping, now recognized as the backing-up beeping on a truck, gets louder and is accompanied by heavy panting from whichever female singer was singing with Pitbull. Cammie takes small steps backwards while still gyrating her hips, closing the gap between her butt and Zach's crotch.

Cammie grits her teeth as she feels Zach's 'man parts' against her through the thin fabric of his dress pants. Combined with the smell of Zach's spearmint gum and the events, or almost-events, from last night… Cammie could hardly withstand it.

Luckily, after a nerve-racking fifty seconds of torture, the song ended and Mr. Montejo began walking off the dancefloor with his slut-friend in tow. "Come on," Cammie orders, anxious to stop dancing and hopefully push that whole experience out of her memory. She grabs Zach's hand and pulls him off the dancefloor following after Mr. Montejo.

"What's the plan?" Zach asks a second time.

"I'm thinking!" Cammie whispers. She keeps heading determinedly towards Mr. Montejo, who had stopped by the bar for a refill. Cammie drops Zach's hand and approaches Mr. Montejo.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Montejo?" Cammie asks seductively. If she couldn't get him out of Bailando Sucio with what she was about to say, then maybe sexual appeal would work.

The pervert turns around and looks her up and down very slowly, determining whether the conversation was worth continuing. Out of the corner of her eye, Cammie could see Zach clenching his jaw from a couple yards away. "Yes… I am. What's a sexy girl like you want from a guy like me?" Mr. Montejo asks, taking a step closer.

Cammie holds her ground, looking eye-to-eye with the man, which was saying something since she was already really short. "Well, I just saw some thugs completely trashing a car in the parking lot and they were saying something about someone named Mr. Montejo… And I just thought you'd like to know," Cammie informs him, widening her eyes to look genuinely scared about the thugs.

Instead of asking how she even knew his name was Mr. Montejo, he storms out of Bailando Sucio, abandoning his slut-friend at the bar. Cammie quickly follows him out of the club, with Zach a little bit behind her.

Mr. Montejo turns around the corner of the club to an area of the parking lot closed off from all other people. Zach hides around the corner, ready to pop out to help Cammie if need be. Apparently Mr. Montejo spots his car in pristine condition because he freezes in place on the sidewalk and asks, "What do you mean? There's no thugs here."

Cammie shrugs and replies, "Oopsies."

A sly smirk sneaks across Mr. Montejo's face and he asks suggestively, "Did the 'thugs' beat up a different car, or was this all just a plot to get me out here alone with you?"

"Actually, no," Zach says, finally stepping around the corner and putting his hand on Cammie's lower back. "She's with me. We have a few words we'd like to say to you."

Now Mr. Montejo was getting a little antsy, taking a few steps away from them. "What do you-?"

"Don't worry, this shouldn't hurt more than a bit," Cammie assures him. She does a roundhouse-kick and lands a firm kick to his temple, accidentally flashing Zach in the process. Mr. Montejo crumples to an unconscious heap on the sidewalk.

Zach just chuckles and peers down at the body. "You amaze me, Cameron," he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Cammie just crosses her arms and smiles a small satisfactory smile. "Good," she replies.

(Author's Note: Too short. Sorry about that. This chapter was just mainly capturing Mr. Montejo, so the next chapter will obviously be much more entertaining. And longer! I promise. So review, tell me what you liked or didn't like. And please tell me more than just 'update soon.' Not to sound rude, which I totally don't want since I LOVE you reviewers, but it gets a little monotinous clicking through all the Fanfiction e-mail notifications just to get a quick two-worded review. And I'll update when I'll update, not according to when my reviewers tell me to. *SORRY!* So, thanks to listening to me whine. Haha. Review!)