Jameson concurred. “So our team has to get through both zones to reach the compound actual?”
“There could be anything in this buffer zone, sir. Landmines, automated defenses…anything.”
“Or nothing.” Jameson pulled up a chair beside the tech and sat down, his eyes studying the screen. “How long can we keep this satellite tasked?”
The tech typed commands again then pointed to the number in the corner. “Approximately four hours, sir. This is a slower orbiting bird, and we’ve caught the zone on approach.”
Jameson blew his breath out hard and glanced at the clock on the wall. “That should be plenty of time. I want you to keep this running, and ping me if there’s any kind of activity.”
“Understood, sir.”
He stood and slipped his coat back on before marching to the steel security doors. He glanced at his watch once more then turned down the hallway and toward the war room where Ingram was waiting.
He entered the war room and found Ingram sitting directly in the chairs behind the techs, his eyes focused on the blank screens above. “I suppose it could be any time now.”
“The satellite is tasked. At the first sign of activity, the tech will relay it here.”
Ingram gave him a confused look. “Why not broadcast it now?”
Jameson gave him a knowing smile. “Because your full attention would be on the screen and your nerves would be shot before the battle ever begins.” He sat down heavily next to him and sighed. “Trust me. I’ve watched enough of these to know that it’s best to ignore it until the fecal matter actually hits the atmospheric oscillator.”
Near Chapala, Mexico
Raul slept fitfully in the chair beside the window while el jefe stared out across the inky blackness. “You should rest.”
He turned and gave a wan smile to Miguel. “I could not possibly sleep.”
Miguel gave him a concerned look. “You aren’t using your own product, are you, Jefe?”
He snorted a laugh and shook his head. “No, amigo, this is nervous anticipation.” He took a deep breath of the cooling night air and let it out slowly. “I will be attacked on two fronts very soon.”
“You know that the gringos will come at you from two different directions?”
El jefe laughed and sat down slowly on the steps leading up to the deck. “No. I mean that two different enemies want my head.”
“Two, señor?”
He nodded slowly. “The Sinaloa come for me as well.” He turned and raised a brow at his enforcer. “They are hiring the federales to do their dirty work.”
“But, señor, you have an agreement with them. All of the cartels have sworn to set aside their differences to maintain profits.” He shook his head in confusion. “Why would they come for you now?”
El jefe shook his head slowly. “I cannot say, Miguel. But I know that something has changed. I cannot get any of the cartel heads to return my calls.”
“Surely the gringos aren’t behind this.”
El jefe shook his head. “No, they don’t have that kind of reach. Besides, if the heads knew who the gringos were, they would hunt them down themselves.” He gave him a crooked smile. “Back when we all were in Colombia, they had discovered and were constantly attacking the supply lines of us all. They cost everyone a lot. Blood and money.”
Then, señor, you should tell the other cartel heads. Let them pool their resources and kill the gringos for you.”
“I cannot allow that.” He sighed heavily and lowered his gaze. “They are responsible for Teresa. I swore to avenge her myself,” he turned hard eyes to him, “and I will.”
Miguel sat silently for a moment before glancing back towards the office. “And what of Raul? Did he not at least attempt to make peace with the other cartels?”
“They would not take his calls. They will not speak to us at all.”
Miguel hiked a brow. “And you trust Raul’s word?”
El jefe gave him a confused look. “Why would I not? He has been by my side since don Murillo.”
Miguel sighed heavily and glanced back once more. “It just seems to me that the other dons all respect you. They have all upheld their ends of the agreement. It is only recently…” he paused, searching for the correct words, “when the gringos became your focus…”
“Say what you mean, Miguel.”
The big man sighed again and lowered his eyes. “Forgive me, Jefe. I spoke out of turn.”
He gave him a solemn look. “Speak your mind.”
Miguel nodded gently. “Once your attention was focused on the gringos and avenging Teresa, suddenly the other heads no longer wish to uphold their end of the agreement. The Sinaloa suddenly decide to attack?” He gave him a confused look. “Since when do the Sinaloa think they are stronger than you, Jefe?”
“And you think that Raul is behind this?”
Miguel gave an exaggerated shrug. “Who else would lead in your place? If the great Fantasma suddenly is killed…who better to pick up the pieces? The Sinaloa wouldn’t know your day to day operations.” He leaned closer and practically whispered, “Who is the one person who could fill your shoes and keep everything running smoothly?”
His words struck deeper than any blade could have. Suddenly things seemed less clear and El Fantasma found himself questioning who he could truly trust. “There may be a nugget of truth in your words, Miguel.”
The big man slowly came to his feet. “I hope that I am wrong, Jefe. I am not a trusting man at heart.” He glanced back at the office and the soft snoring coming through the window. “Perhaps you shouldn’t concern yourself with my thoughts.” He chuckled to himself as he grabbed the handrail for the steps. “I am usually wrong about such things anyway.”
“Yet you trust Ricardo.” El jefe’s face was stoic. “You aren’t as suspicious of his intentions.”
Miguel shrugged. “I’ve known him most of my life.” He gave him a slight smile. “As you have known Raul for so long, yes?” He
