As Sean struggled to get to his feet, the wife rushed in and threw her arms around him. Her brain coated lips making straight for his.
“Whoa,” Sean grabbed her by the arms and held her back at arms length. “I’m not who you think I am!”
“Sean, it’s me! Katie!” she replied excitedly, ignoring his words.
“I’m not Sean!” replied Sean rather awkwardly. “Well, I am Sean, just, not your one,” he clarified even more awkwardly.
As a look of confusion began to register, a screech of tires from the front drive caught both their attention.
Alexa was first out and had her AS Val rifle up and ready to fire, the silenced assault rifle was the favored weapon of the Russian Spetsnaz forces.
As Alexa rushed towards the door, Pyotr covered her expertly. The dead body sprawled across the doorstep gave them all the warning they needed. They entered the house, weapons very hot. As Alexa covered the doorway, Pyotr rushed forward. They would clear the house room by room, systematically, just as the Spetsnaz instructors had trained them.
As Pyotr entered the hallway, Sean, reacting to the screeching tires, rushed from the living room. Sean’s weapon was up and ready but so was Pyotr’s and he was already aiming at Sean’s doorway. Pytor hit the trigger before Sean and three bullets instantly spat out of the silenced barrel.
“NO!” was the only sound that could be heard. The female scream covered even the modest spit of the silenced rifle.
Chapter 16
Luis loved watching the night sky from the ranch’s terrace. Miles from any major conurbation, the darkness was almost complete and allowed an unpolluted view of the universe and the infinite galaxies beyond. The stars lit up the sky and produced the most magical canvas, surpassing any of his uncle’s original oil masterpieces, certainly in Luis’ opinion. Who could compete with God Himself?
“LUIS!!!” screamed El Jefe, for the nth time that day.
“Yes, Uncle?” He jumped up in response. The tone was not good, angrier than normal.
“Have you heard?” he asked, agitated, storming onto the terrace from the living room.
“Heard what, Uncle?” asked Luis calmly, noting his uncle’s lack of even the tiniest of glances towards the wonder above him.
“The Gulf Cartel have a meeting with major buyers from the East coast!”
“Where did you hear that?” asked Luis, dismissively. He was responsible for Intel and he had heard no such thing.
Even before the back of El Jefe’s hand hit him square across the chin, sending him crashing to the floor, Luis had regretted his tone of voice. The large gold medallion on El Jefe’s index finger tore into Luis’ cheek and ensured he’d never forget his place again.
“I have ten thousand men at my behest! I hear things!” explained El Jefe, leaning in, menacingly close to Luis. “But you’re supposed to hear them first! Stop looking at the pretty lights and do your fucking job. Get me those contacts!”
As El Jefe stormed back into the house, Luis picked himself up and rubbed his chin. Every now and then he was reminded exactly why his uncle was in charge. Behind his ruthlessness, he was a very bright and intelligent man. Luis occasionally forgot that the Neanderthal brute was as much an act to maintain control, by fear and power, as it was the true nature of his uncle. He was a sociopath, not a psychopath.
Luis wiped the blood from his cheek and walked tall into the living room. El Jefe stood in front of a massive drinks bar, pouring himself a Scotch. He nodded towards a beaten man lying on the floor in the corner of the room. Two of El Jefe’s most trusted men hovered over the man.
“He’s Gulf Cartel. We picked him up earlier today drunk in a bar bragging about arranging a massive deal.”
Luis looked at the man and could see the desperation in his eyes. Both knew it was pointless. The man would be dead within the hour, if he were lucky.
Luis turned back to his uncle. “Fat Jake’s contacts?”
“Must be,” concluded El Jefe, the insinuation being that the man had not confirmed or did not know if they were.
Luis walked over to the man and made him a promise he couldn’t nor wouldn’t even try to keep. “ I promise, if you tell us everything you know, you will live!”
The man quickly relayed as much detail as El Jefe had already given Luis. All he knew was that a big meeting was due to take place in the next two days in Nuevo Laredo. The details were a closely guarded secret, only the head of the Gulf Cartel knew all the details but the rumor was the buyers were very rich and desperate Americans from the East.
“Fat Jake’s contact and my fucking customers!” El Jefe shouted, throwing his glass at the Gulf Cartel man.
Luis managed to avoid the glass as he stepped back from the captive. The ramifications of the Gulf Cartel gaining their East coast business were catastrophic. They were just managing to keep their heads above water while they tried to renew the routes they had lost but losing them permanently to their main rival was unthinkable, not only for the loss to them but the massive gain to the Gulf Cartel. It could spell the end for Los Zetas.
“We have to stop them meeting!” exclaimed Luis forcefully.
“I know that!” shouted El Jefe impatiently. Stating the obvious was not helpful. “I’ll get Juan onto it,” added El Jefe confidently. Juan was his number two in command. El Jefe had no more trusted or loyal follower than Juan Torres. They joked they were twins from other mothers, having been best friends their entire lives. He was also Luis’ arch nemesis; seldom did they see eye to eye but thankfully Luis’ blood kept him safe. While El Jefe lived, Luis, his nephew, was safe.
“Juan is in Columbia, he’s not due back until tomorrow. It may be too late by then,” replied Luis. “No matter what it takes, they can’t meet!” emphasized Luis. “Even if we can’t find the meeting, we have to stop it happening!”
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” asked El Jefe.
“You’ve got 10,000 men! Use them!” replied Luis matter of factly.
El Jefe eyed his nephew carefully for any sign of dissent but none existed. The suggestion to use his men was a genuine one and had not been meant flippantly.
El Jefe swept his hand in the direction of the captive man before taking a seat. His men did not need any further direction, the captive would be dead in minutes. His body would be tossed in the back of a truck and would be dumped as publicly as possible in the middle of the city.
“Where is the boy?” asked El Jefe as the door closed behind his men dragging the living corpse.
Luis took a seat on a sofa opposite his uncle. He pressed the handkerchief tighter against the wound on his cheek before answering. “In the servants’ quarters. One of the maids is keeping an eye on him.”
The ranch was a sprawling estate, 50,000 acres that skirted the northern limits of Nuevo Laredo city. The main ranch house sat atop a hillside that afforded a view over the majority of both the Mexican and American portions of the linked cities. El Jefe had no interest in farming and after purchasing the farm had quickly removed all but the essential living quarters, removing a number of farm buildings to ensure an unencumbered view to the cities below.
“Get a message to his mother. If the meeting happens with her husband’s men and the Americans, her son dies!” he ordered. “We’ll see if she really does know anything!”
“Brilliant!” offered Luis. Stroking his uncle’s ego was never a bad move, particularly after just having pissed him off. He got up and walked to the desk in the corner of the living room and grabbed another unused prepaid cell phone. He’d make the call straight away.
Chapter 17
“No!!!” screamed Alexa as she threw her hands at Pyotr’s rifle barrel. Her hand caught the barrel just as the first of the three bullets was being ejected. The resultant move was just enough to ensure three clean misses and Sean remained standing.