Fast Vengeance Page 12

  He lifted his head, brushed a lock of hair back from her cheek and searched her eyes. “I have to go,” he whispered.

  She nodded, her eyes bright with tears. “I know.” One hand gripped the back of his neck, the other one of his wrists. She squeezed it, her voice shaky as she said, “Thank you for everything. I’ll never forget you. Ever.”

  “Don’t thank me.” He didn’t want thanks for anything that had transpired between them. The burn at the back of his throat turned into a full-on fire, the lump there all but choking him. “Won’t ever forget you either.” He crushed her to him again. Needing one last moment of holding her.

  Then he took her face in his hands, gazed deep into those beautiful eyes that would haunt him for the rest of his life. How was he supposed to walk out of here knowing he would never see her again? “You be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “And…be happy.” He swallowed, fought back the undertow of emotion so he could continue. “I need to know you’ll be happy.”

  The pain in her eyes slayed him. “I’ll try.”

  You’re hurting her more by dragging this out. Go. “I…” I love you. I’m here if you ever need me. “Take care of yourself, angel.”

  “You too.”

  One last kiss, then he grabbed his bag and walked out, leaving his bleeding heart behind him on the hotel room floor.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Manny. Phone call for you.”

  Manny looked up as David came in through the back door of the rental house, bringing a breath of salt-scented air with him. “Who is it?”

  “Ortega.”

  His contact within the Mexican Customs Authority. He took the secure, encrypted phone from David, answered as he walked through the kitchen to stand at the windows overlooking the garden. “Ortega. You have news?”

  “Yes. The DEA team arrived in Mexico City an hour ago.”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise. That had been quicker than expected. They must be acting on fresh intelligence. No matter. Manny could easily adjust his own timeline and be ready for them if they were indeed down here for him. “How many men?”

  “Twenty-six. Including one of its FAST teams.”

  Okay, they must have a credible tip then. A solid lead to hunt with. “Who are they working with?”

  “I heard they’re with our special forces.”

  As he’d suspected. “And I’m the target?”

  “One of them. Apparently they have several active operations in the works.”

  So they would also be targeting El Escorpion and Montoya. “Where are they heading next?”

  “Veracruz.”

  A long way from here. “When?”

  “No one knows. Soon, I would think.”

  Someone knew. “Find out. I need to know where they are at all times, and know where they’re going before they move. Understood?” His entire plan depended on that insider knowledge.

  “Yes. Of course.”

  In the meantime, he would have David keep working their contacts until they got an answer and confirmed all of this. “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  It was enough for now. “Update me immediately when you hear something more.”

  “I will.”

  Yes, he would. Because if he didn’t, Ortega’s family would suffer for it. That’s the way this game was played, and though Manny didn’t love the violence the way some of his kind did, he certainly wasn’t bluffing. He would use whatever weapon available to him to get what he wanted.

  His daughter. At any cost.

  He ended the call and handed David back the phone. “They’re in Mexico City with a FAST team, coming to Veracruz. He didn’t know when they’re arriving.”

  David’s calm expression never faltered, and Manny was strangely calm as well. They had both prepared as much as possible for what would happen next. All they could do now was see it through. “Everything’s ready. The place is secure and the last chatter we picked up said you were still in Chihuahua,” David said.

  So then Manny still might have some time to get everything finalized. Though he wasn’t counting on it. “And Montoya?” The reward money Manny had offered for him should have turned up something by now.

  David shook his head, his lips curling in disgust. “No one’s seen him.”

  Well he was out there. And every day he kept breathing, the greater the threat he posed became. “Keep working our channels. Put pressure on people, find out where he is and keep on top of the Americans.” Everything depended on advance warning of their arrival.

  “I will.”

  Manny turned to look out at the balcony. God, he hated being on the run and looking over his shoulder every step of the way. It could be worse, though. He also had time and distance in his favor, since the taskforce hunting him would still be thirteen hundred kilometers away once they reached Veracruz. “When do we move?”

  “Tonight. I’ve got men at the house setting everything up for us.”

  Manny nodded and turned away to walk through the sliding glass door onto the balcony. Standing at the railing, he gazed at the horizon. The landscape here was lush and green, a tropical paradise he’d missed so much.

  Between the tall cypress trees that edged the rear of the secluded backyard of this safehouse, sunlight glittered off the azure surface of the Caribbean Sea. Only a few miles from his final destination, a place he had spent so many happy weeks at with Oceane and Anya over the years.

  His daughter had not been there since she was a child, the last time when she was eleven or twelve. Maybe there, if everything worked out, he and Oceane could begin to mend their broken relationship. One baby step at a time.

  He would tell her the lies he had carefully crafted, convince her that he had nothing to do with her mother’s death. Show her the fake evidence he had obtained to prove that Montoya had been behind the murder all along. Convince her that as her father, he had sent Arturo there to guard her and her mother, and Montoya was supposed to be there in case they needed to fight their way out.

  But then Montoya had allowed his men to do the unthinkable. The man was so vicious and unpredictable, Oceane might believe it once Manny told her about her godfather’s true nature.

  She would believe him. She had to.

  If not, he would be forced to take more extreme measures to make her stay. Either way, she was staying with him so he could monitor her and eventually show her the true scope of what she would inherit.

  David stepped out onto the balcony to join him and took a deep breath of the fresh air. “Feels good to be back here.”

  “Yes.” Manny was more at ease now than he had been in months. He was safe here. He had David, the most loyal of his men with him at all times, constantly monitoring the security situation and keeping an ear out for anything about Oceane and the men hunting him.

  “They’re distracted,” he murmured to David, gazing out at that speck of blue in the distance. The government, he meant. “Too many targets to hunt.” With any luck, it would take a while longer for them to realize he wasn’t in Veracruz. That should buy him enough time to put his plan into action.

  “No one has heard from El Escorpion since the raid on the estate.”

  “That’s to be expected.” A man like him, with unlimited money and resources after nearly four years at the helm of the cartel, could be literally anywhere now.

  “You think he’s gone to ground? Or is it because you’ve been blacklisted and he’s cut all ties with you?”

  “Both.” Manny wasn’t stupid. He had caused the cartel and its leader a lot of inconvenience with Oceane and Anya’s disappearance, and then the bungled op with Montoya.

  But all was not yet lost. After an exhaustive and incredibly expensive investigation of his own, Manny was certain he finally knew who the mysterious head of the Veneno cartel was. He had even sent in an anonymous tip to get authorities to act and take some of the heat off him. Looked like it had worked.

  “If it’s actually h
im, no one has seen or heard from his family either.”

  Manny shrugged. “Because he’s taken them with him. They’ll surface eventually. At least this gives me something to barter with.” Both with el Escorpion and the rest of the cartel, but also the Mexican and U.S. governments. “Let’s just make sure we’re ready for anything.”

  “Of course.”

  Manny didn’t want to die or be captured. But desperation had driven him to this decision. He was going forward with his plan, no matter what the risk.

  This was Mexico. They were on his turf now, and things worked differently here than they did north of the border. If he couldn’t find his daughter, he would force the Americans’ hand here and make them bring her to him.

  ****

  “Man, it’s like we’re back in Mississippi again,” Granger muttered, wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead as he tossed his boots to the linoleum floor of the barracks they were staying in. Part of an old military base where they were housed with their new Mexican Special Forces friends. “Muggy as hell. I can practically wring out my shirt and I only got out of the air conditioned vehicle two minutes ago.”

  “Beats winter in Afghanistan,” Brock said from the next bunk over.

  Granger grinned. “Yeah, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

  They had been in Mexico two full days now, and had landed here in Veracruz last night. The government had sent them here based on the tip they had received, and because it was the state where Oceane and her mother had lived. Where Nieto had based extensive operations out of over the years.

  From the moment they arrived, Brock and the rest of the team had been getting the lay of the land, monitoring new intel and working all the sources available to them.

  “I’m usually right,” he said. “I don’t know why you guys don’t realize that by now.”

  Something pinged off the back of his head.

  Whirling around, he found Maka grinning at him from the bunk across the aisle from his, his precious Nerf gun in hand. “You gotta be shitting me,” Brock said. “You seriously packed that thing?”

  “I’m always packin’, Cap,” he said, and fired off another round. “Consider this payback.”

  Brock managed to block it before it hit him in the chest, the rubber-tipped foam bullet bouncing off his forearm instead. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

  That smug face split into a wide grin, his teeth a startling white against his deep bronze skin. “Nah, you love me. And hey, I brought one for you too.”

  Brock eyed him. “Yeah? You wanna have a shootout with me?”

  Maka shrugged his wide shoulders and bent over his bunk to rummage through the duffel on the floor. “I’m down with that. Been working on this one for a while. You’re gonna love it.”

  Brock grunted, set his hands on his hips and waited.

  Sitting up, Maka turned to him with a blue Nerf gun in his hand. “Happy belated birthday.”

  His birthday was last month. Brock blinked and crossed over to take it from him, couldn’t help but grin when he saw it up close. “Aww, you made me a Captain America gun.” He’d even painted it bright blue and added the iconic star shield on the sides of it.

  “I did. And I made some modifications to it, too. Now it fires semi-auto. And yours has blue bullets, so we can tell who shot the shit out of the other easier.”

  He barked out a laugh as he examined the modified barrel. “I take it back. I do love it. Now where’s my ammo?”

  A mischievous glint entered Maka’s gaze. “Can’t remember. Maybe I left it at home.” He raised his weapon and pulled the trigger.

  Brock shouted with laughter and grabbed his pillow to act as a shield as he ran at Maka, catching him across the body. The two of them bounced off the old mattress and hit the floor.

  “Hey, Cap needs help taking the Hawaiian Hulk!” someone shouted.

  Pinned beneath the human tank on top of him, Brock gasped for breath as he tried to get out of the headlock Maka put him in, his face turning color from the pressure at his throat. “Do not!” he managed to wheeze out.

  Shouts and whoops filled the barracks as the team came rushing to his rescue. Maka got in one good noogie, hard enough to make Brock’s scalp burn, then the team attacked him. This time Maka was laughing like a maniac as he struggled to escape the mass of humanity piled on top of him.

  Brock wiggled free and climbed to his feet, grinning like an idiot. They’d all needed to blow off some steam, and this was good harmless fun. Well, mostly harmless.

  Colebrook had his legs wrapped around Maka’s waist from behind, his arms around that wide chest. Prentiss was twined around Maka’s legs like a living snake. Granger was lying on top of them all, clinging to whomever he could get a grip on.

  Even Khan ran over to throw himself on top of Granger, eliciting a yell from everybody under him, and looked up at Brock, his expression exactly like a little kid on Christmas morning. “Get him, Cap! Now’s your chance!”

  “What should I do to him?” Brock mused.

  “Whatever, but do it fast, this fucker’s gonna Hulk out any second,” Colebrook grated out, his face turning purple from the strain of keeping Maka subdued.

  “All right, hold him still.”

  “Easy for you to say,” Prentiss panted, still holding on for dear life.

  Next to them, Freeman had his phone out, videoing the spectacle. “Wait, I’m switching to photo now. Okay, say cheese.”

  “Smile, Maka,” Colebrook wheezed, red-faced as he grinned up at the phone.

  Brock turned toward his bunk to retrieve his new weapon but Lockhart was already standing behind him, holding out the Captain America gun, now fully loaded. “Give him a taste of his own medicine, Cap.”

  “Good idea,” he muttered. Spinning around, Brock aimed it at the back of Maka’s head, just visible in a gap between Granger and Khan, and pulled the trigger.

  A flurry of foam darts bounced off three of the other guys before he finally hit Maka, and he didn’t stop until he ran out of ammo.

  “Hey, it works pretty well,” he called out to Maka, who was still battling. The big guy’s face was set, his nostrils flared as he fought his way free of his teammates, one by one.

  Movement to the right caught Brock’s attention. Commander Taggart stopped in the barracks doorway, his eyebrows rising as he took in the scene. “Good to see you boys enjoying yourselves. Do me a favor and not break any tables in here, huh?”

  “Nah, we’re good,” Brock said as Maka shoved to his feet, grinning again, a bruise forming on his cheek. God, he loved serving with these crazy bastards. “You need us?” he asked Taggart.

  “Just you. Got another meeting.”

  Brock followed him out into the late afternoon heat and across the base to the building where they would hold their briefings. For the past three days they had searched for a solid lead on Nieto, Montoya or the slippery El Escorpion. So far nothing had led to much.

  “Anything solid to go on yet?” New tips seemed to come in all the time, though most of them turned out to be useless.

  “Maybe. They’ve got something else for us to check out with another source tonight.”

  He nodded. Both he and Taggart had accompanied Mexican officials and SF guys to a handful of meetings with informants and contacts since arriving in country. Brock knew a little Spanish, understood slightly more than he could speak, but was far from fluent and native speakers spoke way too fast for him. It was a pain in the ass, but at least that way they were in on everything and got to observe firsthand how things worked down here.

  When they walked into the building, their Mexican counterparts were already assembled around a table in the briefing room. The head of the taskforce spoke in heavily accented but good English about the latest intel. Nieto was rumored to be somewhere here in Veracruz with his head of security and a handful of men.

  “When’s Rodriguez due in?” Brock murmured to Taggart during a lull in the briefing.

  The
native Spanish speaker was joining the team sometime today, now that his mother’s service was over. Brock and Taggart had both told him to stay in California with his family, but due to the situation unfolding here, Rodriguez had insisted on coming down to assist with the op.

  Losing a loved one was a hell of a thing to go through, and Brock fully understood why his teammate would want to work right now, since he was going through something similar with Tori. In a way it was like a death too, because even though she was alive, she was still gone forever. He needed to keep busy, otherwise the heartache might kill him.

  “Not until twenty-two hundred,” Taggart answered.

  Damn. Would sure make Brock feel better to have one of their own here to listen in and translate during the meeting.

  Taggart’s phone rang. He answered, spoke to someone for a minute, too low for Brock to overhear. As soon as he hung up, it rang again. Looking at the number, Taggart sighed and answered, giving Brock a look he recognized all too well. The irritation there was loud and clear. His commander had way too much to do and only one of him to do it. And now he was supposed to go meet this informant tonight as well.

  “I’ll take this one,” Brock offered when Taggart got off the call, nodding at the folder on the table.

  Pure relief flashed in his commander’s eyes. “You sure?”

  “Yeah, I got this.”

  “I owe you. Report in when you’re on your way back to base.” Taggart slapped him on the shoulder and walked out, already on another call.

  After finding out that he and the Mexican feds were leaving in ten minutes to meet the contact, Brock ran back to the barracks to grab his sidearm and holster. The guys were all quiet now, napping or reading or playing cards.

  “Got an informant meeting,” he told them as he gathered his stuff. “Won’t be back until after chow, so grab something for me. Rodriguez is due in late tonight.”

  “Will do,” Khan said with a wave without looking up, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at his cards, Maka and Prentiss across from him.

  Brock snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Try not to miss me too much.”