Adam, just Adam, was the name he had used to book the trip. By all accounts "Adam" was an ordinary 25 year-old man, working as a consultant in a multinational IT company, occasionally going to the gym, driving a car from a few years ago, married to a fairly beautiful, though somewhat average wife, no children. Every winter, after the rushed workweeks of the autumn, he got his week off of work. For the last six of those winters he had spent those vacations in his average home, with his wife, reading books and repeatedly confirming to one another how they enjoyed their lives, despite how hollow those words rang. It was an average existence for Adam, one just like a billion others.
As is often the case, he had had an idea based on an ad on the internet. It was one of those banners that permeated every more or less shady website, most of which promised eternal bliss, sexual prowess and all-but-immortality for mere 9,99$. This one had promised an "Exotic vacation on a remote island, full of wonders both imaginable and unimaginable, with complete satisfaction guaranteed". The ad was so vague, so ridiculous, that it was unlikely any sane person would touch it. A mouse click later Adam was perusing one of the strangest websites he had ever seen. Amidst promises of explicit pornography and outright prostitution were both images and video footage of a quaint island resort, faces of people in garish hawaiian t-shirts blurred out as they walked in and out of the camera's view, beautiful and barely clothed women clinging to their arms. The description spoke of a small island, it's natives now refugees in their homeland due to a tsunami which had wiped out the island's rickety infrastructure, leaving the indigenous people living in the ruins, barely clothed and fed. The company running the website boasted having brought new economy and tourism to the island, creating a seemingly impossible paradise in which wealthy individuals could spend their vacations on the islands many resorts, server by the local people, while their money would be split between maintaining the resort and aiding in the rebuilding effort of the island, turning this resort for rich people into a guilt-free charity organization. In name, at least.
The pricelist was ridiculously overpriced, a barrier to keep mere mortals out, but after looking around the payment and booking sites and tracking the security certificates, Adam felt almost confident that the site was legit. But what did it matter to him? In the dark hours of the night Adam filled out the forms and booked a room for a weekend, the price amounting to such a sum that were it even slightly higher it would cost him his average house and his average car. Hell, it might do so even as it was.
"A small price to pay..." -Adam remembered thinking that night. He made the payment using an anonymous online currency transfer service and when asked for what name the reservation would be, he chose his alias to be as blank and untraceable as possible: "Adam". Seeing that he was about to enter a paradise on earth, at least according to the website's boasts, and since he indeed yearned a taste of the forbidden fruit, the name seemed more than appropriate.
--
As the small plane landed on a landing strip barely worth the name, Adam felt relieved. At least, should the resort be revealed to be a scam, he had gotten a plain ride to an honest-to-God tropical island out of it. As the plane taxied to a halt he watched the idyllic palm trees swaying gently in the tropical breeze, and he could not help but smile a little as he saw the miles and miles of pristine sandy beaches, glistening waters, and the small villas that acted as rooms of the island-wide resort complex, nestled at the edge of the jungle that enveloped most of the island. The sight almost wiped Adam's mind of the division he had seen from the air, the smoky ruins and run-down slums of a small coastal city and the wrecked villages that dotted the other side of the island, the one he was not supposed to think about too much. Adam had read up on the island, and indeed it had been a flourishing tropical paradise, complete with small-scale industry mostly specializing in intricately crafted pieces of furniture and other decorative luxury items.
The incredible quality of the crafts and the prices they fetched back in the states and in continental Europe, had funded an economy that allowed the island's population of just under six thousand to live in relative luxury. A tropical paradise of natives. That was all until a tropical storm, a freak of nature and a one-in-a-million chance, struck down the island, annihilating its industry, killing over a third of its population and crippling its infrastructure. While the nations of the world had pondered on how they should assist this stricken island nation, the gears of bureaucracy grinding ever so slowly, a wealthy businessman who remained anonymous had stepped up and airlifted in private emergency workers, supplies, food and medicine. His price had been a seemingly reasonable deal that allowed him exclusive rights to run a resort on the island, free of rules, regulations and restrictions, and most importantly: free of international laws of which the island was exempt. When the international help had arrived in the form of a large cargo ship, the natives had turned it away. They were better off this way.
--
A polite young male steward assisted Adam as he exited the plane. A row of expensive cars and their drivers, all dressed in black suits, awaited him and the handful of other passengers of the plane. Adam's luggage, a single suitcase which contained his second change of clothes and some basic toiletries, was carried to him by a negro man clearly of local origin, smiling politely and nodding often, though remaining curiously silent and wordless. Adam had read that most of the locals didn't speak a word of english, instead preferring their own native language, and as he glanced around he realized that was probably one of the many reasons this resort could operate as openly as it did. He shrugged, glancing up at the pristine blue sky with a smile on his face as he sat down in the car he had been directed to. The negro driver, who had offered to carry his luggage by gesturing wildly, carefully closed the car door behind him before entering the driver's seat and slowly driving off. Of all the things, smooth jazz was playing in the car stereo. If the resort was indeed a scam to lure in rich fools and Adam was about to be abducted and tortured, this would be right about the time.
--
The trip to the hotel was a short one, just ten minutes from the makeshift airport on a freshly paved road that twisted and turned amidst the jungle trees. Looking out of the car window, Adam had a hard time in deciding how he felt about his arrival. He was alone here, in a place marketed on a shady website as paradise on earth, most of his funds were tied to this one weekend stay and, most unexpectedly, it was starting to look like this would not be a scam after all. Was he disappointed? Had he sought adventure in putting himself at risk? Adam shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, as the car stopped softly on a palm tree-lined parkway in front of a luxurious reception building identified as such only by a small signpost outside. There were no advertisements, slogans or anything that betrayed the place as a hotel or a resort, just the word "Paradise" emblazoned atop the arched doorway that served as entrance to the building of glass, steel and decorative marble. The driver, his designated driver, Adam now realized, stepped out of the vehicle with the engine still running, and opened Adam's door for him, nodding and smiling pleasantly as he gestured politely for Adam to stand. As Adam stepped out of the car the driver gestured him to enter the reception building and bowed politely, before turning back to tend to the vehicle. Adam's luggage was still in the trunk, but he felt adequately at-ease to leave them there. Something about the place just made everything feel carefree, friendly and oddly trustworthy. His shoes made a pleasant clack on the pale marble tiles as Adam crossed from the parkway and into the cool air of the reception building.
"Hello, Mr Adam, and welcome to Paradise."
A well-tanned man in a white suit stepped up to him and shook his hand in a firm and encouraging manner, his smile warm and friendly, rather than the rehearsed used-car-salesman smile Adam was used to in his day-job. Adam returned the handshake and took measure of the man. He seemed strong and well kept, his hair had been cut short and his face and square jaw were cleanly shaven, and there was a tiny hint of cigar smoke around him, that seemed appropriate considering the locale.
"I will be your assistant during your arrival procedures, and am here to answer any questions you might have. Right this way, Mr Adam, we need to go over a few minor details before we can take you to your villa. I assume you've read the online brochure, yes?"
