Emanuel took a sip of his tequila. “A mile or two, maybe more.”
“Then, we’ll have our convoy drop us there and we’ll hike up during the night.”
“It’s not an easy hike. There’s no trail. It’s straight uphill. Thick vegetation with lots of rocks. The guys will be too tired to fight by the time they reach the safe house.”
“This isn’t an easy job,” I countered. “Hiking is better than having them shoot down our helicopter before we can get boots on the ground.”
He spun his glass in circles on the table. Waves of tequila lapped over the side. “That all sounds good if this were a military operation. Not a lot of our guys are trained for a mission like this. We need people with experience and endurance.”
“How many members have solid military or police training?”
“Members that are available on short notice?”
“Yes,” I snapped, flexing my hands.
He cocked his head to the side. “Five. Maybe less. A lot of the members are former farmers or recovering drug addicts. I won’t pull people from Ignacio’s personal guard, and compromise his safety to rescue your girlfriend.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets to stop myself from hurting him. “What about the Americans? Does Ignacio have any Americans on the payroll or people he’s used on a contract basis in the past?”
He blinked a few times, then shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,” I sneered. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Just like every other drug cartel, Ignacio uses US military veterans for special tasks. I’d like a few of them to join me.”
I could call some freelance operatives I’d met over the last five years, but that would take time. Time I didn’t have. I needed people who were already in Mexico and were familiar with the nuts and bolts of drug cartels. I didn’t want to bring in some guy who usually worked with the Russians or the Jihadists. Every criminal entity had a different personality. Different priorities. Granted, greed and power were at the center of all criminal organizations regardless of whether they hid behind the veil of religious zeal, political ideology or flat out materialism. But I didn’t want to waste time briefing someone on the intricacies of the Mexican drug cartels. I needed people already up to speed and familiar with the Vargas and Alvarez Cartels.
He leaned back in his chair, propping his hands behind his head. “He’s used a few independent contractors hired on a job by job basis.”
“Great. Hire them for this job.”
His left eye twitched. “These things take time. I’ll need a week to work out the details. Maybe more. It depends on their availability.”
“We don’t have a week. Double their standard rate. Make it worth their time.”
Emanuel shifted in his seat, and our eyes locked. “I’ll have to get Ignacio’s approval.”
“Then get it. I don’t care about the money. I’ll pay the difference.” I slammed my open palm on the table, knocking over my glass. It rolled onto the floor, exploding into tiny slivers as it collided with the tiles. “Offer whatever it takes to get the right people here.”
He blew out a breath as he ran his hands through his hair. “Fine. I’ll see what I can do. I know a couple guys who used to be in the Marines. They only take a few jobs a year. They might be compelled to accept this one if I tell them we’re trying to rescue the daughter of a high profile politician.”
“Don’t reveal her identity until after they accept the job,” I said.
His bushy brows knitted together. “Why not? We can use it in our favor.”
“I don’t want this incident to follow Hattie for the rest of her life. Being abducted by a drug cartel once is a tragedy. Two times would make her a circus sideshow.”
“Why does it matter what people know? According to Ignacio, you’re staying here to help him now, so she’ll be here too.”
A wave of guilt rippled through me as I poured another glass of tequila. “No. I’m putting her on the first plane back to the US. I’m done with her. I need to get her out of my life. She’s a distraction I can’t afford. Not anymore.”
“All this for a woman you don’t want anymore.” The corners of his mouth curled up in a stomach-turning grin. “Interesting.”
My lips flattened. I didn’t care what Ignacio said about Emanuel. He rubbed me the wrong way. Unfortunately, I still needed him, so I refrained from planting my fist in the dead center of his smug face.
“What the fuck is your point?” Hattie’s absence in my life would be hard. I didn’t need to explain myself to this asshole. She’d given me something nobody had. Unconditional love and acceptance, and now I had to throw it all back in her face. She wouldn’t leave willingly. I’d have to break every promise I’d made to her and shatter her heart in the process.
He held up his hands in mock surrender even as his eyes glittered with anger. “Nothing. It’s not my business.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” Against my better judgment, I downed another glass of tequila and grabbed the decanter. “When can we make our move?”
“Give me an hour to make some calls and if everything falls into place, we’ll be ready to launch our attack in the next few days.”
I opened the door to Ignacio’s study. “Fine. I have some stuff to take care of. I’ll be in touch later today.”
I didn’t wait for any answer. I was out of the house, stripped naked and diving into the pool less than five minutes later. I couldn’t be around anyone right now. I needed to clear my mind and calm my nerves. I felt like a noose was tightening around my throat, and my sanity was dangling from a frayed rope.
Chapter Five
Hattie
Darkness and the stench of rotting flesh greeted me when I opened my eyes again. A damp draft kissed my skin. Scurries of rats or other vermin taunted my ears. Shuddering, I turned onto my side and my fingers trailed through a damp pool of what I assumed was blood. I gagged, but nothing came up, which was probably a testament to how hungry and thirsty I was.
I scrutinized the walls, the metal door, and the damp ceiling. Squinting, I could see the outline of Raul’s body. I needed to get out of here. I couldn’t wait for Ryker. It could take him weeks to find me and organize a rescue mission. Even then, he might not be successful, or I could be dead by the time he showed up. The events of the last couple of days demonstrated with blinding clarity that Juan Alvarez and his son wouldn’t hesitate to kill me. If I hadn’t told Enrique to shoot Raul, he would’ve shot both of us, and there’d be two rotting corpses on the floor right now instead of one.
I popped open the metal band around my wrist. I hadn’t fully closed it earlier. I wiggled my fingers. My hand and arm still throbbed, but I could bend all of my fingers. Rolling onto my stomach, I army crawled through the pool of blood. It seeped through the front of my shirt and coated my knees, but I kept inching forward.
I needed to search his body for a weapon or a phone. I ignored the acid swirling in my stomach. I didn’t want to touch his dead body, and I sure as hell didn’t enjoy crawling through his blood, but I’d run out of alternatives. Raul intended to help me. Now that he was dead, I had to help myself. I needed to be strong. I needed to be smart. I had to take risks because cowering like a mindless drone wouldn’t get me out of here.
My chains wrenched me backward like a bungee cord, and I couldn’t move another inch. I stretched out my injured hand, trying to reach Raul. My fingers brushed across the hem of his pants. Tuning out the pain pulsing in my fingers, I curled my hands around his pants and yanked his leg. Pain shot up my arm, and I screamed, but I didn’t let go. I gritted my teeth together and pulled as hard as I could.