CHAPTER TEN
BENITO CORTEZ WASN’T the only useful contact Alex Romero had in Mexico. He had family here, including a cousin who was living in Monterrey. Diego De La Guerra was a former Mexican soldier now working undercover for the government, part of a joint US-Mexico task force targeting the leaders and finances of the drug cartels.
Diego met them at midnight in a little cantina called El Adobe. It was crowded and noisy, a band playing popular Mexican music on a small stage at the back of the room. Smoke drifted up from wooden tables and there were enough tourists mixed in so that two blond Americans didn’t stand out.
Alex led them to a table off to one side where a good-looking, dark-complexioned, Mexican man with straight black hair pulled into a stubby ponytail lounged back in his chair. A bottle of Dos Equis sat in front of him.
“This is my cousin Diego,” Alex said in English, setting the tone for the meeting. He tipped his head toward the two of them. “These are my friends Lissa Blayne and Colt Wheeler.”
“Thanks for meeting us,” Colt said as they took seats around the battered wooden table.
“You are here for the boy,” Diego said, not bothering with small talk.
“That’s right.
“It is unfortunate El Puñal brought his son here at this time.”
“What do you know about Timmy?” Lissa asked.
A server’s appearance put the answer on hold, a young woman with a pretty face, full breasts bulging from the top of a low-cut blouse, and an obvious eye for Diego.
He pointed to his beer. “Tres mas Dos Equis, por favor.”
“Si, señor.” She flashed him a smile, tossed her long black hair, and sashayed off toward the bar. The conversation remained on hold until she returned with the beers, which Diego generously paid for. Casting him a last interested glance, the waitress merged into the crowd in search of other customers.
Diego’s dark eyes traveled from Colt to Lissa and back again. “Alejandro has told you who I am. He has vouched for you, so I will tell you as much as I can.” The chair creaked as he sat forward. “For almost three months, the task force has been monitoring El Puñal’s movements. We knew he crossed the border into Texas, but we did not know he would be returning with his son.”
“Why didn’t you arrest him when he left the country?” Colt asked. “According to our information, he’s wanted in the States as well as here in Mexico.”
Diego took a long swallow of beer. “As powerful a man as he is, El Puñal is only a small prize compared to the men we are after. Those men will soon be gathering at Spearman’s hacienda to discuss plans to expand the opioid trade in your country, drugs that have been extremely profitable for the cartels. Each man is second in command—segundo—to a cartel leader, in many ways even more deadly. This is a chance to end their reign of terror, a chance to save thousands of lives.”
“When is the meeting?” Lissa asked.
“That I cannot tell you.”
Colt leaned forward. “So let me guess. In a matter of days, maybe a week, law enforcement is planning a raid on El Puñal’s compound.”
Diego’s lips thinned but he didn’t deny it. “I have said too much already. I can assure you that getting the boy out safely will be a top priority. My advice is that the two of you go back to Texas and leave the boy’s safe return to us.”
Colt flicked a sideways glance at Lissa, whose gaze locked with his in silent communication.
“We understand the importance of your mission,” she said. “We aren’t asking you to cancel your plans. All we’re asking is that when you go in, you let us go in with you.”
Diego shook his head. “That is not an option.”
“I’m a US Army Ranger,” Colt said. “Lissa is a trained police officer. Let us help you. We’ll follow your orders and stay out of your way. We’ll take care of the boy and you’ll be able to do your job without worrying about his safety.”
“I’m sorry. I am afraid I cannot do that.”
Colt leaned back in his chair. “You might want to rethink that position. If we don’t go in, neither will you. We could blow the whistle on your whole operation. Leak your plans to El Puñal. You’d wind up with nothing to show for three months of hard work.”
Diego’s jaw tightened. “You realize I could have both of you arrested and thrown into prison.”
Lissa set a hand on Diego’s arm where it rested on the table. “We don’t want to make trouble for you or the people you work for. We just want to bring Timmy home to his mother.”
“The answer is still no.” He focused on Colt. “And if you are the man my cousin believes, you will do nothing to interfere with our operation. This man, Spearman, and the men he is meeting are drug dealers and murderers. They destroy life every day, all for their own profit. We will watch out for the boy. I give you my word.”
Colt took a long swallow of beer, resignation filtering through him. He set the bottle back down on the table.
“You took a chance just meeting us tonight. We won’t repeat anything you’ve said or interfere in your operation in any way. You have our word on that. But we aren’t leaving Monterrey without the boy.”
Diego relaxed. “A compromise, then. I know where to find you. I will see the boy is returned as soon as this is over.” Rising, he finished the last of his beer, turned, and made his way through the crowd toward the entrance, pausing briefly to speak to the girl with the long black hair. Both of them laughed, and Diego disappeared out the door.
Colt turned to Lissa and Alex. “If they go
