El Fantasma nodded slightly. “Si. It is my duty.” He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew the gold plated pistola. “But, please, Raul. Tell me why I shouldn’t. Give me one indisputable reason why I should trust you.”
Raul swallowed hard and nodded slightly. “Teresa.”
El jefe raised a brow. “You would invoke her name…now?”
Raul nodded. “Si. We all loved her.” He leaned forward, his eyes hardening. “But…not as I loved her.”
He stepped back and cocked his head to the side. “What are you saying, Raul?”
“Had it not been for you, I would have pursued her myself.” He scoffed at the notion but continued. “I know that I am not the kind of man she could ever love. I am not large. I do not have thick, wavy hair.” He laughed again and shook his head. “I am not even pleasant to look upon. But I loved her with an intensity that…” He looked away for a moment then turned back to face him. “A love that only you could truly understand.”
El Fantasma gave him a confused look, his mind not connecting the dots. “I am afraid, I do not understand.”
Raul cleared his throat and stepped forward again. “Don Murillo had mentioned turning control over to me. I knew that it was the only way I could ever hope to win her over.” He clenched his jaw and tried to keep the tremble out of his voice. “If I had his power…she would have little choice.”
“But Don Murillo chose me.”
Raul scoffed again. “No, señor. Teresa chose you.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped. “Don Murillo knew your past. He knew your connections. He knew everything there was to know about you. But because of her, he trusted you enough to hand over the operation to you.”
“And how is this admission supposed to prove your loyalty?”
Raul sighed again and sat back down. “I loved her. More than anything.” He glanced up at him and gave him a wan smile. “But she loved you.”
He waved the gun at him, urging him to continue. “Go on.”
“Don’t you see? It all worked out. She was happy. Don Murillo was happy that he had somebody STRONG to carry on for him.” He lowered his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “And I loved her enough to let go of the idea…the fantasy. I was happy for her.” He choked back a sob. “I loved her enough that her happiness was enough for me.” He looked back at him, tears in his eyes. “And because she loved you, I swore an oath to God. I indentured myself to you both. Don Murillo trusted you, and I was his right hand; when he died, I became your right hand.” He came to his feet again and slowly reached for the pistola. He pressed the barrel to the heart of his chest. “If you think I would go against my oath to God, then pull the trigger.”
El Fantasma pulled back, jerking the gun from his grip. “You loved Teresa?”
Raul scoffed and extended his arms wide. “We ALL loved her, Jefe.” He paused and sighed. “But, si. I was in love with her.”
El jefe’s face fell and he reached out to embrace his right hand man. “I didn’t know.”
“Nobody knew, because nobody needed to.” Raul pulled back and wiped at his eyes. “She was happy with you. And I have been happy to serve.”
“Forgive me, hermano.” He pulled back and ground his teeth. “I think my mind is…”
“You’ve been preoccupied.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You have many things to consider, so I am not surprised that you begin to think paranoid thoughts.”
“I should never have accused you.”
Raul placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Somehow, I do not think the seed was planted by your own thoughts.” He gave him a knowing look.
El jefe growled low in his throat and stared towards the grounds where he knew Miguel was. “No, hermano. It was not.”
27
Near Chapala, Mexico
Mauk keyed his coms as he peered through the optics of the scope. “Vulture, overwatch is set.”
Slippy’s voice came through the earpiece, “All IFF’s reading five by five. Hornets ready on your mark, Vulture.”
Bridger pressed the transmit button and whispered into his mic, “Sparrow, are you in position?”
A moment later Laughlin’s voice answered, “Sparrow is having issues. Wait one.”
Bridger ground his teeth in frustration and glanced at DJ. “Tell me you’re a go.”
DJ nodded, tightening his grip on the carbine. “Dollar waiting on a dime, Top.”
Another moment later and Lisa’s voice whispered in his ear, “Sparrow and Momma Bird, standing by.”
Bridger took a deep breath then pressed the transmit button again, “Release the hornets.”
“Hornets away.” Slippy’s voice already sounded distracted as the miniature killing machines took to the air.
David Mauk felt goosebumps form on his arms as the dark and deadly shadows passed silently overhead. He whispered a prayer then made a rough sign of the cross, even though he wasn’t Catholic.
Slippy’s coms remained active as he mumbled, “Passing the canopy…entering the open…and they are officially in the suck. Vulture, you are clear to launch.”
DJ reached forward and squeezed Bridger’s shoulder and the pair began to work their way forward. In the distance, distinct popping sounds were muffled by the thick vegetation. DJ grimaced, realizing that what sounded like somebody popping bubble wrap was in reality suppressed, nine millimeter rounds taking an unwitting life.
“This is fuckin’ spooky, Top.”
“Cut the chatter,” Bridger whispered as the team pressed forward.
Mauk shifted uncomfortably as he scanned the area below. He watched the hornets zip in and out of the thick vegetation, smoke trailing them from the suppressed rounds they had fired. He knew that at any moment, the signal would be given and he would be free to clear those in the open closest to the compound.
He bent his head to either side, relieving pressure with a distinct crack before lowering his eye to the reticle of his
