2-Arrival in Costa Rica

 The plane dipped beneath the clouds, revealing a vast expanse of jungle stretching endlessly beneath them. Adán Alvarez pressed his hand against the window, watching as the canopy parted to reveal rivers and winding roads. The sunlight hit the glass at an angle that forced him to squint, his eyes scanning the view that had filled his imagination for months. Wild, untamed, exactly what he'd expected.

A slight jolt marked their descent, and as the plane touched down with a roar of engines, Adán stretched in his seat, shaking off the stiffness of the long flight. The recycled cabin air had worn thin, and he was eager to step outside, breathe something real. As the plane taxied to the runway’s end, he glanced at his companions—Raúl Vázquez, a seasoned tracker with years in the Yucatán; Tadeo "Tade" Ochoa, the young, nervous field agent; and Luz Garza, the tech specialist who was more comfortable with drones than with people.

They weren’t here for just any training, though. This was something more. Adán had gathered as much from the cryptic invitation, and he wasn’t the only one who sensed it. A sense of unspoken tension hung in the air as they disembarked into the sticky heat of Costa Rica, the dense humidity almost suffocating. The scent was a mix of damp earth and distant salt, a far cry from Mexico's familiar aroma. He inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on him.

Around them, a flurry of activity unfolded. DPW personnel in dark uniforms moved efficiently between arriving teams, ushering them to shaded waiting areas. Different languages buzzed in the air—Spanish, English, French, Italian—a mix that confirmed his suspicions: this wasn’t a routine operation.

He scanned the others. Some were professionals, their posture stiff, while others carried themselves with the easy grace of experienced field agents. And then there were the outliers—people who clearly didn’t belong. Interesting.

Raúl walked ahead without a word, Luz was already absorbed in her tablet, and Tade shifted uneasily beside him. "This is bigger than they let on," Adán murmured, adjusting the strap of his duffel bag. Tade exhaled sharply. "Yeah, starting to feel that."

As they neared the registration desk, another group arrived from Spain, led by Renata "Ren" Expósito. She was already scanning the area, her posture sharp and calculating, the kind of person who always sized up a situation before stepping into it. Ren was here for more than just a training exercise, Adán could tell.

The DPW officer at the desk greeted them with a clipboard. “Welcome to Costa Rica. Please check in before proceeding.”

Adán nodded, falling into step with his group. Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a test. It was an opportunity—and he intended to make the most of it.

Renata Expósito had endured the long flight from Madrid, her impatience growing as turbulence kept her from sleeping. The descent into Costa Rica had her leaning against the window, eyes flicking over the dense jungle below. It was beautiful, wild, and untamed. Still, something about it didn’t sit right. She had been handpicked for this exercise, though the DPW’s vague phrasing didn’t fool her.

As the plane touched down, Ren wasted no time, grabbing her duffel bag and heading toward the exit as the others from her team took a more leisurely pace. She recognized the gravity of the situation, even if her teammates, Gabriel Ibarra, Elena Vives, and Óscar Ramírez, seemed unaware. Gabriel, ever serious, shot her a glance. “Try not to cause trouble.”

Ren grinned. “No promises.”

The thick, humid air hit her like a wall as she stepped onto the tarmac. The scent of earth and salt filled her lungs, a reminder that this wasn’t just another routine assignment. As she surveyed the area, she noted the other teams, the way they carried themselves, their sharp eyes, and their silence.

She spotted Franz Pietsch, the seasoned German administrator, as well as a few others she had crossed paths with in the past. This wasn’t just a drill. This was something bigger.

Franz Pietsch stepped off the plane, the humidity immediate and oppressive. But he barely noticed. His mind was already focused on the task ahead. At 57, Franz had been around long enough to know that this was no ordinary assignment. The DPW didn’t send the world’s top field agents to a place like this without a reason. And Franz, more experienced than most, was determined to prove he was still relevant.

He scanned the crowd, his sharp eyes taking in the groups as they assembled. Renata Expósito, the Spanish field agent, was already sizing up the situation, her posture confident, calculating. He had worked with her a few times in Europe, and though they weren’t close, he respected her ability.

A few other faces were familiar—like Emma Guillard, the French scientist. He acknowledged her with a brief nod. She wasn’t here for a simple field study, that much was clear.

Sophia Bianchi barely noticed the long flight from Italy. The drone of the engines was just background noise to her, her focus locked on the data she was reviewing. She’d gathered everything she could find about the mysterious exercise, knowing the DPW never gave away too many details.

She stepped off the plane, adjusting her glasses as the heat clung to her skin. Beside her, Luca De Santis and Valentina Russo, two seasoned agents from Italy, were already adjusting to the change in temperature. Neither was particularly talkative, which suited Sophia just fine. She preferred to observe.

The registration area was already crowded, and Sophia noted the individuals around her with a sharp eye. She recognized some of them—Franz Pietsch from Germany, Emma Guillard from France, and Renata Expósito from Spain. All of them were here for the same reason: something bigger was at play.

Helena Almeida wiped the sweat from her brow as she stepped onto the tarmac, the suffocating heat immediately enveloping her. She hadn’t expected anything less, but the stark contrast to the cool, air-conditioned plane cabin was jarring. She adjusted her bag and surveyed her surroundings, already mentally preparing for whatever came next.

Her team, Luca Almeida and Carla Fernandes, were a quiet, focused bunch, their demeanor mirroring her own. Helena preferred to stay in the background, observe, and gather information before making her move. This was no ordinary assignment, and she had learned long ago that the DPW never played by the rules.

She noticed Adán Alvarez among the others, his easy confidence standing out. They had crossed paths briefly in Mexico, and though their personalities had often clashed, she couldn’t deny his skills. The brief time they spent together had taught her more than she expected about working under pressure.

But today, the stakes were higher. Much higher.

The heat pressed in on all of them as they moved toward the registration table. Around them, the jungle stretched endlessly, an untamed wilderness. It was a backdrop for what was sure to be a test unlike any they had faced before. Whatever this was, it was more than just a training exercise. It was a selection process, and each of them knew it. Only the most capable would rise to the top.