He let out a breath when he noticed someone walking toward the gate, the yellow vest shining bright in the headlights of his car. The man got the gate open and waved them inside, so Rome got in his car and started it. He drove through the gate and stopped next to the man and rolled down his window.
“What took you so long, Denson?” Rome asked.
“I had to get clear of the newbie. Can’t have him questioning things, right?”
Rome grunted and rolled his window back up. He drove further inside so the truck could get through and the gate could close behind them. Then he waited for Denson to get into his passenger seat and show him the way.
Once they were at the right container, Rome put his car in park and got out. He waved his men over and hung back while they opened the container. He kept an eye on Denson, noticing he seemed a bit nervous. That was never a good sign.
“Uh, Rome? You’d better come take a look at this,” Eduardo yelled.
Rome took a deep breath and silently counted to ten as he made his way to the container. Eduardo held the door open as Rome walked inside.
Empty. It was empty.
Rome pulled his gun and marched back to Denson, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pressing the gun under his chin.
“Why the fuck is it empty?” Rome growled.
Denson blinked up at him, looking surprised. “I-I d-don’t know. It wasn’t when it got here.”
“Of course it wasn’t, you imbecile. Someone took it. Who the fuck had access to it?”
A flash of light was his only warning before shots rang out. Rome cursed and threw Denson to the ground while ducking behind his car. Eduardo and Santino were stuck behind the container. At least they had cover. Rome peeked out, trying to locate the shooters and nearly got shot in the face. With a growl, he pushed his back against the car.
With a deep breath, he got up from his hiding spot and returned the fire. Soon after, Eduardo and Santino joined in. He heard one of the shooters yell in what he thought was Spanish and then car doors slammed and tires squealed. Rome knew they had to drive past his car to get to the gate, so he readied himself for the one shot he may have. One of the men had the window rolled down and was shooting wildly around as they passed Rome.
The idiots must’ve cleaned out the container a while ago, so why were they back? Why were they shooting at them when they should’ve been long gone? It didn’t make sense. At least, not until he recognized one of them. He aimed his gun at the window and pulled the trigger, shattering the glass but the man continued shooting so he doubted he’d hit him. Then the guy’s face came into the light and Rome felt his stomach drop. He pushed to his feet and shot at the back of the car, but it was gone too fast for him to do any real damage.
“Fuck,” he yelled.
He clenched his hand and only just stopped himself from slamming it against his car. He turned and walked back to the container. He holstered his gun and pulled out his phone. He let out a sigh before calling Marco.
Chapter Five
Rome
HE WAS standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze following Marco as he paced the living room. Everything was fucked up. Their situation was bad. Really bad.
“Of course, you had to go piss off a cartel,” was said from the doorway.
Rome had his gun out the next second, pointing it at the spook. Neil didn’t seem to care, his attention fully on Marco.
“Fuck you,” Marco grumbled, though there was no real heat behind the words.
Marco waved Rome off and, with his jaw clenched, Rome holstered his gun. He didn’t like having the spook this close to Marco. There was no way of knowing what Neil’s motives were, though one thing he did know was exactly where the spook’s alliance laid; with the CIA.
“If you don’t want my help…” the spook trailed off, taking a step backwards. Marco’s glare stopped him from going any further.
Marco let out a sigh and asked, “What do you know?”
Neil took two steps toward Marco, then stopped when Rome matched his steps.
“You can call off the guard dog,” Neil drawled.
Marco crossed his arms, his lips quirking at the corners.
“Rome stays.”
Neil hid his displeasure well, but Rome already knew how the man felt about him, so it was easier for him to spot.
“Start talking,” Marco said and cocked his head to the side. “That is why you came, is it not?”
“It is. The Henchmen MC had some beef with the Nuevo León cartel. The shootout was between them. The men you killed were low in rank. But one was family to another who isn’t. Hernandez Alvaro. The uncle of Jose Alvaro. He’s a tenientes. A lieutenant. He’s the one who’s pulling all this shit. According to my source, he asked for permission to take you out and was turned down, so he’s resorted to fucking up your business instead.” Neil gave Marco a pointed look. “Seems like he’s been doing a pretty good job of that so far.”
“You don’t fucking say,” Marco hissed.
“What do you want to do?” Rome asked, not because he didn’t already know the answer, but to get Marco thinking of something else, because that temper of his tended to go red hot around the spook as it was, and with all this on top? It wouldn’t end well for
