“While Kendra was in captivity, she made friends with Valeria Montilla, Emilo’s wife. She begged us to smuggle her out with the medical workers. She was pregnant and feared what would happen to her child if she stayed.”
One-Mile let out a low whistle. “I know our friendly neighborhood drug lord didn’t take that well.”
“No.”
“So we went to Guerrero a couple of months back…why?”
“Valeria hired us to rescue her sister. Emilo had been keeping her as bait.”
“But everything went south,” Trees pointed out. “Our mission failed, and we nearly died.”
Hunter nodded. “Because of the mole.”
“So we’re going back in to retrieve Valeria’s sister?”
The boss shook his head. “That’s not a good idea until we figure out who within our organization turned against us. This mission is purely a screen to smoke out our rat. So you two will land in Acapulco and set up surveillance equipment together in a predetermined location. Trees, from there you’ll drive out of the city and head inland to Taxco, where you’ll set up surveillance in another location. Pierce, you’ll head up the coast to Petalán.”
“We’re splitting up?” Trees raised a brow. “That’s risky as fuck in a place like that.”
“It’s the fastest way to figure out who’s selling us out.” One-Mile shrugged. “If we don’t, it’s only a matter of time before we’re caught unaware again. At least we’ll be going into this with our eyes wide open.” He turned back to Hunter. “So what are you telling everyone around here?”
“Each of the other three operatives will get a different cover story. We’ll know who our mole is based on which location Tierra Caliente raids.”
As ideas went, it wasn’t foolproof. But they didn’t have a lot of options, and he understood the rationale.
“We’ve only got a few suspects. Maybe we can discern our mole without all the cloak-and-dagger bullshit.”
“And just so we’re clear, Zy would never sell us out,” Trees vowed.
How sweet. The tall dude was sticking up for his bestie. Based on what, a pinkie swear?
Still, Zy’s family was loaded. He seemed less likely to betray his peers…but it wasn’t impossible.
“Trees, I know you’re convinced Zy is innocent,” Hunter acknowledged, “but we can’t assume anything. We have to rule everyone out before we know for sure what we’re dealing with.”
One-Mile considered the other two possibilities. Josiah Grant was former CIA, so he was more likely to have the international connections needed to stab his fellow operatives in the back. But was that really the surly loner’s speed?
That left Cutter. The asshole had a hero complex…but was it possible appearances were deceiving? Just because he couldn’t think of a reason Bryant would sell them out didn’t mean he wouldn’t. On the other hand, no matter how badly he wanted Cutter to be guilty, that didn’t actually make him the culprit.
“When are we leaving?” he asked Hunter.
“Tonight.”
Son of a bitch. Of all the terrible timing…
One-Mile bit back a groan. “Mission duration?”
With any luck, he’d be back in a few days, and his absence would only be a momentary setback with Brea. Hell, maybe this was for the best. She’d asked for space, and if he stayed in the same zip code, he’d be tempted to corner her, strip her naked, and remind her how good they were together.
“Couple of days, tops. You should head out before you and Cutter are tempted to commit murder on company property.”
“Sounds like more fun than fucking with a cartel,” Trees quipped.
Amen. But he didn’t get that choice. Besides, if he killed Cutter, Brea would never forgive him. “I’m in.”
“Listen, you can’t tell anyone you’re leaving or where you’re going. Logan, Joaquin, and I will circulate your various locations after you’ve set up the surveillance equipment.”
One-Mile rose. “Got it.”
“Roger that.” Trees stood, too.
“Both of you report here at twenty-one hundred. I’ll be waiting with further instructions. That gives you about twelve hours to get your shit in order…just in case this doesn’t go as planned.”
Wednesday, August 20
Acapulco
Coastal Mexico in August was more humid than the ass crack of hell.
Trees downed the last of his beer as the sun set over the little seaside restaurant attached to their shithole motel in Acapulco. The few tourists vacationing here looked happy to disappear into their tequila. One-Mile shoveled in the last of his fish and scanned the area. Nothing out of the ordinary…but the back of his neck tingled and felt tight.
Like someone was watching.
He played it casual and glanced at his watch. “We should go. It will be easier to find our location before the sun sets.”
Trees tossed a few bills on the table, then hoisted the duffel at his side as he stood. “Yep. Might as well get this shit over with.”
One of the three remaining EM Security operatives—One-Mile didn’t know which—had been told he and Trees were meeting a member of a rival faction tomorrow here in Acapulco who could help them bust inside Montilla’s compound and free Valeria’s sister. The second of the three operatives had been advised of a rendezvous in Taxco on Friday, while the last had been spoon-fed the bullshit about a clandestine meet-up in Petalán on Saturday night.
One-Mile was braced for trouble, but he had no idea when or where it would appear. The setup was making him twitchy.
He heaved a sigh as he paid his own bill and got to his feet. “Got the map?”
“Yep.” Trees headed off the restaurant’s terrace, toward the parking lot where they’d left their rental. “You been thinking about who’s guilty?”
“Hard not to.” But every one of the suspects had pros and cons.
“Any conclusions?”
“No.” At least none he felt like sharing.
Trees eyed him. “You’d like Cutter to be guilty.”
On some level, sure. But it would crush Brea. “I’d prefer not to have a traitor in our ranks at all.”
“Same. I’m telling you, man. It’s not Zy.”
“We’ll find out, I guess.”
“The truth is, I can’t picture any of these guys betraying us.”
Maybe Trees just didn’t want to.
