had given the order on the hit, an assault intended to kill him instead of his wife and baby girl. But after he’d learned the truth, that Perez had put a price on his head, it was all he could think about and all he had lived for.
And it would be the reason he would die here.
“So you are Garrett Wheeler, a big man with the CIA.” Perez sneered and walked slowly, not taking his eyes off him. “I only want to know one thing.”
The men standing behind Perez shuffled and moved closer. They listened to every word the fat man said. They were waiting for the American spook to back down in front of their fearless leader.
“Why did you feel you had to lie to my men?” Perez leaned in and whispered, “You are worth more to me than Garrett Wheeler.”
“What?” The voices of his men echoed in the cell. “What do you mean? Who is this man?”
“His name is Jackson Kinkaid. He blames me for the death of his wife and child, but who is really at fault?” The man shrugged and shifted his focus back on Kinkaid. “You were the one who destroyed my first cartel. It took me years to rebuild. And what kind of man would I be if I didn’t punish the one who nearly got me killed?”
Perez grabbed Kinkaid by the throat and squeezed. “You are to blame for the death of your family. You brought that on yourself. I warned you what would happen.”
After he let go, Kinkaid choked and gasped for air.
“Your beef was . . . with m-me, not them. You’re a c-coward who murders innocent women and ch- children.”
“So what did you hope to gain by getting hauled here to me, like this? You are a stupid man, Kinkaid. A bullheaded one.” Perez grimaced. “And all this, for a mere woman? You are a young man. You could have had more children, no?”
“I missed killing you the first time. But now I’m here to finish the job.”
“So the man you came to kill is Perez?” Ramon Guerrero looked shocked, but it didn’t take him long to make excuses to his boss. “I swear, I did not know.”
“Unbelievable,” Perez said as he scowled at his man, but when it finally sank in what Kinkaid had intended to do, he laughed aloud. His men joined him, with each one looking at the other to make sure it was all right. In Perez’s eyes, he had the high ground—the advantage. Kinkaid was nothing, less than nothing.
“You turn me loose, and we’ll see how un-fuckin’-believable it is.” Kinkaid mustered all his strength. He lurched at the man, rattling his chains. “You don’t have the guts to face me like a real man. You’re soft, Perez. You’ve grown too fat and too old.”
Perez stopped laughing. And from the shadows, Kinkaid saw the man glaring at him in the darkness. He didn’t know if the cartel boss would take him up on his offer, but he had nothing to lose.
“What are you waiting for?” Alexa crowded Garrett’s space, grabbing the sleeve of his BDUs to plead her case. “What if there’s no signal? What if he can’t . . . ?”
She didn’t have to finish. From the look on Garrett’s face, he knew what she was about to say. Jackson Kinkaid could already be dead. And if Perez got into that helicopter again, he’d fly off and get away with murder . . . again. Kinkaid might not care what happened to him, but Alexa did.
“I’m telling you, Alexa, I have a gut feeling Kinkaid has got more up his sleeve than us. If we go in hot, it might get him killed or put my team at greater risk.” Garrett’s commonsense advice contradicted the concern on his face.
Alexa knew he was right. Garrett had more to consider than one man. Being in charge of the mission, he carried a great weight on his shoulders. And heaped on top of that, his guilt over what had happened to Jackson’s wife and little girl had been eating at him for years. Now this.
His training and his instincts were at war with the regret he had over the brutal annihilation of Kinkaid’s family. And from the pained expression on his face, she knew none of this would be easy. Before this day was over—no matter how it turned out—Garrett would pay a steep price for any mistake he might have made years ago, when he thought he had protected Kinkaid’s family and hadn’t.
“We got a read off the burst transmitter,” Hank emerged from the shadows and huddled next to Garrett. “Our boy’s in trouble again. His heart rate is up. Something is happening in there, but at least we know he’s still alive.”
Alexa breathed a sigh of relief. Even though the whole situation reeked, knowing Kinkaid was alive had taken the pressure off Garrett; but she still had no idea what he would do. Waiting was not Garrett’s strong suit either.
“Kinkaid had asked us to stay in the foothills and keep watch.” Garrett took another look through his night- vision binoculars. “But if anything happens to him, and Perez leaves his estate in a hurry, we won’t be able to stop him in time, not from here.”
“What do you want us to do, boss?” Hank stared at Garrett, with half his face cast in shadows and the other half in moonlight. “My men are ready.”
“We move closer. I want us within striking distance.”
Garrett gave his order and pointed where he wanted his men positioned. They’d split up, with Hank and Alexa taking one team and Garrett taking command of the other.
Alexa waited for Hank to leave. When she was alone with Garrett, she took off her camo boonie hat and looked him in the eye.
“You watch your sweet backside. I don’t want to lose you twice.”
Before he came up with his usual smart-ass macho comeback, she kissed him on the cheek for old time’s sake. Feeling the warmth of his skin on her lips opened a floodgate of emotion that she hadn’t expected. She’d moved on, and she knew that, but a part of her would always love him.
“I wish you hadn’t followed me to Mexico, but now that you’re here . . .” His lips curled into a lazy grin. “ . . . I’m glad you did. Guess that makes me a selfish bastard.”
“One of your better qualities,” she said.
Giving her one of his devilish smiles made more seductive under the moon, Garrett left her and vanished into the darkness. This mission could cost her both of the men she loved. And no amount of training and experience would ever make her ready for that.
“Damn,” she whispered to no one.
Perez glared at Kinkaid as he clenched his jaw in silence, leaving Ramon Guerrero dumbfounded at the stupidity of the man he worked for.
“Surely you are not considering this.” Miguel Rosas stepped between his boss and Kinkaid, putting a hand on the man’s chest. “He’s simply goading you into letting him out of those chains. You have the advantage here. Give the order, and I will kill him for you. And I will take my time. He will regret his insults to you.”
Still, Perez didn’t speak or take his eyes off the prisoner. Guerrero had a bad feeling this would not end well. The American—Wheeler or Kinkaid or whoever he was—had been tortured and was weak. But Guerrero had learned long ago not to count a man out who had just cause on his side. He slipped behind Rosas and moved closer to Estella, but not so close that it would draw attention. The girl hung from ropes and looked more frightened than ever. He could do nothing for her, not anymore, but he felt less like a bastard if he pretended he cared what happened to her.
“You should listen to him, coward,” the American taunted. “You wouldn’t want to ruin a good manicure, lard ass.”
Guerrero was close enough to see the spark of anger in his boss’s eyes. He knew the prisoner had hit the mark. He’d pushed as much as he needed to. Perez would either order his men to kill the hostage—a long, slow death—or he would remove his restraints and free him to fight one last time. Neither of those options looked as if it scared the prisoner. The man was beyond caring.
