Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“Are you smoking again?” I had to ask. We’d quit on the same morning seven or eight years ago. I’d gone from occasional social smoker to chain smoking as my marriage had deteriorated, and he’d stress-smoked in between deployments sometimes.
“Apparently I cave when my daughter’s been kidnapped.”
She’s not your daughter.
He held out a hand, and I gave him the pack and a lighter before I stashed the other bags on the floor as well.
Not in the mood to utter another word, I pulled out my phone to see if I had any new messages. The secure chat Squeezy had set up didn’t offer any alerts, so we—
“Jesus fuck.” I stiffened and read the wall of messages.
“What?” Joel demanded.
Fucking hell! You seen the news?! CF
There’s no more doubt. Something big is happening. JO
Yeah, we can call off the search for other suspects. DQ
We’re working on new papers for you, CF. Get ready to go to Europe. DQ
Marveluss. CF
How the hell did he escape? RT2
According to the statement, he was being transported back to prison after a hospital visit, and they were ambushed on the road. GQ
A buddy at DEA said they’re all involved now. JO
“Carillo escaped from prison.” I couldn’t fucking believe it. No, actually, it made perfect sense, but I still couldn’t believe it. Ortega was right. Something big was happening.
“What the—how?” Joel grated out.
I replied to the group. “Hold.”
Switch all focus to hunting down Carillo affiliates. JH and I will be picked up by Blanco’s men at 8 PM tomorrow, so steer clear of his crews on the streets. We don’t need another enemy. JO, you work on more names. RT1 and RT2, look up every name JO sends you. CF, I want you to prepare a profile. Talk to DQ. We have to find Delgado. DQ, we’ll need your brother. We can’t send CF to Europe alone. EJ
“During a hospital visit, I guess.” I went to Google to look up the news. “He had his men ambush the transport on the way back.”
Joel shook his head grimly and threw the rest of his popsicle into an old coffee mug in the door’s side pocket. “But it’s proof, right? He’s behind the attack.”
“Zero doubt,” I confirmed.
He pulled out his phone just as the screen went dark, and he unlocked it again. “Another missed call from Piper. I’ll call her when we get to a hotel.”
I didn’t care.
“Don’t let that phone end up in the hands of a cop back home,” was all I said. Joel wouldn’t be able to prove he’d been off the grid.
“You’re a little too paranoid about that,” he replied. “I’m not a suspect.”
I refrained from rolling my eyes. “No, you’re just naïve. Carillo’s men will do anything to interfere with our mission, whether they kill us in cold blood or alert the authorities in the US that we’re running our own investigation.” I wasn’t saying that the cops would suddenly chase us, but when the dust settled, we could be charged for tampering with evidence or interfering with an ongoing investigation. Moreover, the man who killed a murderer was also a murderer, and revenge killings were unfortunately not legal back home. We had to stay off their radar. Simple as that.
Joel chuckled. “There you go again, treating me like a kid who doesn’t know shit. Classic Elliott.”
I finished my coffee. “Pretty sure a kid uses more than two brain cells.”
“Fuck you.”
Right back at you, buddy.
“Hey, wake up.”
I grunted and stiffened, and I cracked my eyes open. Christ, I didn’t remember falling asleep. “What,” I uttered flatly. I scrubbed a hand over my mouth and peered outside. The sun was dipping low on the horizon.
“I want your background with Vincente,” Joel said. “What do I need to know? You’ve had run-ins with him before.”
I cleared my throat and sat up straighter. The fucking relief of my leg not killing me—I couldn’t describe it. I could live with a dull ache.
“Where are we?” Aside from in the middle of the desert. My stomach tightened with hunger. I could smell food. “Did you eat?”
“We just left Puerto Libertad.” He dug out a paper bag from the floor. “Here. It should be warm still.”
Not seeing the harm in lowering my leg for a moment, I pulled back from his lap and planted my foot on the floor. Which actually felt really good. I’d slept in the same position for too long. Hell, I was stiff and sore all over. Cold where the AC had hit me, sweaty elsewhere… I had problems.
“Pull over,” I requested. “I gotta stretch and take a piss.”
He slowed down and came to a stop on the side of the empty road, and I limped outside and stretched my arms over my head. Fucking hell, road trips weren’t meant for forty-five-year-olds who’d spent twenty years breaking more bones than I could count. My knees protested, my neck…hurt.