Monterrey, Mexico, is not to be confused with Monterey, California.

This Monterrey is a border town whose main industry and source of employment is a massive tile factory. Monterrey is where Dr. Manuel Mendosa has his small surgical clinic. His father had also been a surgeon, attached to the American army in Vietnam. He always maintained that his finest work had been done during the war, as he was able to finesse his reconstructive surgical abilities on the burned and disfigured soldiers.

His only son, Manuel, followed in his footsteps and became a qualified plastic surgeon. He had, under his father’s watchful eye, opened a practice in Mexico City. After his father’s death, Manuel had become addicted to drugs and sunk into debt. Accused of malpractice, he had gone into hiding. Manuel had then been coerced into operating on a known felon, altering the man's features to enable him to escape imprisonment.

Now, known in the underworld for his prowess, he was forced into performing many similar surgical operations. He was paid highly for his skill and silence, but he was nevertheless trapped and in constant fear for his life, should he ever refuse a request.

When Manuel received a call from a Mr. Smith, he knew this was yet another “operation” requiring his skill as a surgeon. He knew too that his life would depend upon his silence.

Mr. Smith was not American but English, and his arrival at the clinic, although expected, was met with trepidation. The patient was so tall he had to stoop to enter the small reception room. He was well dressed in a cream—colored suit and a white T-shirt. He carried a thin leather briefcase.

If Manuel felt trepidation; so did his new client. Miles from any—where in the border town, he had arranged the meeting on word of mouth, hearing that Manuel was a genius. He had not expected to confront one of the most handsome men he had ever seen.