Make Them Pay

by Allison Brennan

  She heard another car on the road. At first she thought it would pass by like all the others, but almost immediately she realized it was coming closer. Not one, but two vehicles.

  Sean?

  She stood quickly and almost ran to the door, but she hesitated. Listened carefully. She couldn’t be sure this was Sean.

  “Stay here,” a male said in Spanish. His voice was deep and commanding. She didn’t recognize it. “No one goes in or out. We wait.”

  She left the kitchen and walked as fast as she could to the back room. During her hours of exploration, she’d checked every door, touched everything within her reach. There was a half closet under the staircase that cut the back room in half. She had no idea who these people were, if they were coming into the house or waiting outside, but fighting in her condition was not an option.

  Before she even closed the door to the small closet she heard pounding on the door.

  “Romero!”

  There were shouts, someone telling his partner to go around to the back. Lucy sat in the closet, frozen.

  The front door was kicked in and several people stormed into the house. They swarmed the place, upstairs and down, heavy boots on tile floors. With each thud she jumped, and she willed herself to stay calm. A few minutes later one of the men said in rapid Spanish, “Hide the vehicles, I don’t want Romero to get spooked. There’s food and water here, he’ll be back. We’ll be here waiting.”

  “Want us to talk to folks?”

  “Yeah,” the first guy said. “Shake down the neighbors, find out what the fuck he’s doing. We can’t go back to Flores empty-handed.”

  Flores? But the Flores cartel had been wiped out.

  Almost. Jasmine, the head of the black-market baby ring, and Jose, the youngest, were still alive. Jasmine had fled the country and there was a warrant for her arrest. Jose had never set foot in the United States and there was no active warrant for him. What had Kane said? He was the sane brother? Or was that the oldest? She didn’t remember, she’d had a lot going on when Kane and Sean returned from Guadalajara last month. She knew Kane was being cautious, but she thought the problem had been handled.

  We started this war, Lucy. RCK doesn’t start wars, but we didn’t have a choice. Now we have to lay low and see what happens.

  What would Jasmine or Jose Flores want with Dante Romero? Was this about the bonds? The treasure they were hunting? The Flores cartel had taken a major hit when their accountant turned state’s evidence. They’d need cash to continue operations. Maybe that was what this was all about—Flores knew about the bonds, heard that Dante had them, was going after him for the money.

  Or did they suspect that Dante Romero had helped Kane and Sean last month? Had he helped? Hardly—he’d simply arranged the trade, according to Sean. Lucy wished she had paid more attention to what had happened, but this last month had been hell for both her and Sean and she wanted to put it all behind her. Lately, she’d been so focused on finding the missing babies, she hadn’t kept up with what was going on with the Flores family.

  Whatever they wanted with Dante Romero couldn’t be good. Lucy had seen the results of Jasmine’s criminal enterprise—she was violent and brutal. But she’d always been hands off, leaving the kidnappings and murders to her employees. Lucy had no proof that Jasmine Flores herself killed anyone but she had evidence she’d orchestrated the selling of newborns. Carson Spade, the Flores cartel’s lawyer and accountant, was turning state’s evidence against her. She would be extradited as soon as the indictment was handed down—if they could find her.

  Did Jasmine Flores know who Lucy was? She thought not. Though Lucy was a federal agent, most people wouldn’t recognize her. Her name was another story, so Lucy needed to come up with a story in case she was found.

  Lucy made herself as small as possible and remained in the crawl space under the staircase, praying to God that she wouldn’t be found. Even if they believed whatever story she told them, she was playing a dangerous game.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Kane Rogan landed northwest of Tampico, Mexico, just before one p.m. Tuesday.

  He turned to Siobhan. “You do exactly what I say.”

  She didn’t argue with him. That was a first. She’d been surprisingly quiet on the long flight south. Maybe he’d really scared her off with the way he’d kissed her. Kissed her? He’d devoured her. Maybe she didn’t want him anymore. He couldn’t blame her.

  But his stomach tightened. He couldn’t do this forever. He would have to cut her loose as soon as possible, to save them both.

  He glanced at her again. He didn’t want to cut her loose. Maybe it was nerves. Definite possibility. The flight had been bumpy, he’d gone too far out in the gulf, but it had been the fastest route to Tampico. He had access to a small unused runway, but the landing had been hairy. Could have taken its toll on her. But Kane didn’t want to use any facility that might employ someone who’d recognize him and spread the word to the wrong people that he was back. His main problem was he didn’t have enough fuel to get back to the States. He could do a short jump somewhere, but he might have to temporarily dump the plane and fly back with Sean.

  He was stunned to find another small plane at the end of the runway. He almost aborted his landing, but then he’d really be in fuel trouble. He pulled out his gun and drove the plane toward the unknown craft. “Get down,” he ordered Siobhan.

  She immediately complied.

  As soon as he saw the call numbers, he recognized it was Sean’s. He taxied to a stop. Noah Armstrong and Nate Dunning came out of the bushes, but he didn’t see his brother.

  “We’re good,” he told Siobhan, and she slowly sat back up. She was pale. Okay, she was always pale, but this time she looked downright ghostly. “Sorry, sugar,” he said.

  “I’m okay.”

  She didn’t sound okay.

  “Bumpy ride.”

  She took a deep breath and drank half a bottle of water. “I’m okay,” she repeated.

  He smiled, then positioned the plane off the runway but in a place where he could easily take off in an emergency.

  “What are you doing here?” Kane asked Armstrong as he jumped out of the plane. “Are you insane? Where’s Sean?”

  Noah said, “Sean tried to call you.”

  “I was over the Gulf. No signal.”

  “Liam gave Sean a location on Lucy seventy miles from here. Jack and Sean went after Lucy. You needed backup here.”

  “Not from a fucking fed,” Kane said. “Shit, Armstong, do you understand the danger you put yourself in just by stepping across the border?”

  “About as much as you.”

  “The cartels might kill me on sight, but they’ll enjoy torturing a US federal agent.”

  Noah tensed. “I get it, Rogan. But you’re one person against four—maybe more. Dunning and I are trained, and I damn well know that Stockton hired RCK to vet the entire San Antonio FBI office after the leak this summer, so you know that Dunning and I are capable.”

  “There’s only one commander, and that’s me. You have a problem, fly away now, and take her with you.” He nodded toward Siobhan.

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Siobhan said. “I get it, I don’t have training, but I have something none of you have.”

  “Excuse me?” He almost smiled at whatever it was she thought she could do.

  She tilted her chin up. “You came without ground transportation. Fortunately, the Sisters of Mercy have a small clinic in Tampico. I contacted Sister Bernadette before we left New Orleans, and she said there would be a truck waiting for me a mile from here.”

  “How did you know where I was landing?”

  “I can read a map, just like you, sugar.”

  Kane had planned on stealing the first vehicle he found. The runway was twenty miles from where Liam was supposed to be, but it was the closest private landing strip he knew about in the area.

  Kane grinned and winked at Siobhan. He turned to Noah. “You
good, Flyboy?”

  “Yes, Commander,” Noah said.

  Armstrong was beginning to grow on him.

  The weight of his responsibilities grew as they walked through dense foliage in the midday heat. While Noah and Nate may have come down here thinking they knew what they would face, they hadn’t been in the field in years. They were federal agents. Nate didn’t look like anything but a soldier, but Noah was too … clean. Kane didn’t care that neither had family; he didn’t want to have to go to Rick Stockton, a man he considered as close as or closer than his brothers, and tell him he got his agents captured or killed. Not to mention the fact that Siobhan was with them. He had wanted to leave her in New Orleans—it would have been safer all around—but Siobhan had some use. She knew the people of Mexico better than Kane. Kane knew the bad guys—the cartels, the gangs, the violence. Siobhan knew the good guys—the regular people, the shop owners, the religious folk. She spoke their language, and he wasn’t talking just talking Spanish. She understood how to put them at ease. Kane didn’t know what to expect at the ruins of the old church, but Siobhan’s knowledge of the area could come in handy.

  Maybe it was an excuse to keep her with him to protect her and keep her out of trouble; maybe it was because he had a moment of fear that Liam had changed, that he could have hurt Siobhan and Lucy when he kidnapped them. Kane was used to feeling a cold rage deep inside, not pain. Not the deep sorrow that had swept through him in the moment he thought he might never see Siobhan again.

  That Siobhan was unharmed gave him hope that Lucy was also okay. It also gave him hope for his own humanity. He didn’t feel emotions like he used to … except with Siobhan. He didn’t necessarily like it, but he didn’t not like it, either.

  Kane couldn’t let Liam walk away from his actions. He may have truly wanted those bonds for one special bond that included the treasure map, but what did he plan on doing with the nearly $6 million? He had to have funded this project in some way, and Kane’s fear was that Liam had traded the bonds for cash to someone who could do far more damage. And what did Carlo mean about Liam buying his freedom? Freedom from whom? Who had the bonds now?

  And maybe … maybe Kane could have let it go if it were just about the money. He would have taken care of the situation quietly, after the fact. He was good at that—like when he stole the bonds before Liam could get to them six years ago. But Eden and Liam had manipulated Lucy, broken into Sean’s safe, lied, and put both Siobhan and Lucy at risk. Lucy was still in danger, and she was under Kane’s umbrella. If Kane didn’t go after Liam, Jack would—and Jack wouldn’t pull any punches. When it came to his family, he was stalwart. No one touched them, or they would pay.

  Liam was going to have to face the music this time. Kane would bring him back to the States and turn him over to Noah and the FBI. Him and Eden. Maybe a few years in prison would finally get through to them. Actions had consequences, and some actions had serious consequences.

  Kane hadn’t been much of a brother to his siblings, especially after his parents died. Duke—who had sacrificed so much to raise Sean—had a completely different style. Kane was hands-off; Duke micromanaged. The twins shut them both out after a while, so it was no wonder that they started down a dangerous path without guidance. But didn’t they have a conscience? Didn’t they understand some lines couldn’t be crossed?

  He should have done things differently, but he was a soldier, not a father. Not a very good brother. He saw things as black-and-white, right and wrong. His idea of wrong might be subjective based on the situation, but he lived comfortably with situational ethics.

  He’d thought more about the past in the last two days than he had in the last ten years. He never second-guessed himself; why was he starting now? Because this was family? Or because he had misstepped?

  The truck that Siobhan procured was exactly where she’d said it would be. The keys were in the glove box—not smart, but helpful.

  Kane told Noah to drive with Siobhan in the cab, and he and Nate sat in the truck bed. They kept their weapons out of sight but within easy reach.

  Twenty minutes later and Kane could count the cars they’d passed on one hand. They were heading deep into the mountain range, about equidistant between Tampico, San Luis, and Ciudad Victoria.

  Kane had felt the turbulence coming over the gulf in his little Cessna, but now the clouds slowly moved in. There wasn’t much wind, but by tonight there would be rain. Weather reports had called for brief but violent thunderstorms in the gulf region up into eastern Texas as well as Mexico, moving up to a hundred miles inland, which was where they were. If the predictions were right, the storm would blow over by morning, but they’d definitely be grounded until then. Kane didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary, but flying in a thunderstorm was foolish.

  Noah had flown Sean’s plane, which, out of the three aircraft down here, would be the best equipped to handle the weather. It was newer, larger, and Sean was a better pilot than Kane. Noah, too, could handle it. But none of the planes were big enough to carry all of them. Sean’s could take eight, maybe nine people. Kane’s maxed out at four, plus he didn’t have enough fuel. Jack’s plane sat six.

  As Kane mentally ran through how to safely get out of Mexico, he realized he was avoiding thinking about what to do with Liam and Eden.

  Because he’d already decided.

  He closed his eyes. He was not looking forward to this confrontation.

  The truck slowed as Noah turned onto a rougher, steeper road. Kane scanned the eastern horizon and valley below them. It was peaceful here. Few people, cooler up here in the hills, greener. He’d been in areas of Mexico that made him want to believe in God. Vast, gorgeous, endless land without people, without violence. There were some places he thought he could stay forever, disappear, forget the rage that burned inside him, a rage he didn’t always understand.

  And sometimes, when he looked at Siobhan, he thought the same thing. He could disappear with her, bury the pain, forget the violence man did to man. The violence Kane understood, even participated in.

  Sometimes.

  The road grew steeper, and Noah pulled over to the side and shut off the truck.

  Kane jumped out. Noah didn’t have to tell him the rest of the road was impassable. They needed transportation and if they continued going they’d be stuck. “How far?” he asked.

  “Approximately a kilometer.”

  Kane was torn between leaving Siobhan in the truck and having her join them. He didn’t want to believe that Liam was willing to kill for this gold, but he could be … or he could be working for someone willing to kill.

  “You remember Andie’s lessons.” It was a statement, not a question. But he had to make sure.

  Siobhan stared at him. “Just give it to me.”

  He slipped her a small but well-maintained 9mm that he used as backup to his backup. He knew Siobhan didn’t like guns, but her sister had made sure she knew how to handle one, and other than a revolver—which didn’t have more than six rounds—it didn’t get much easier than a 9mm.

  They walked the kilometer—Kane leading, Nate taking the rear. In the distance, Kane saw a tent partly hidden in the trees. He held up his hand to stop the others, motioned for Noah to stay with Siobhan and Nate to join him to inspect the tent.

  They approached silently. Kane recognized the standard military-style ten-by-ten pop-up. It had been staked down, so they’d planned on staying awhile. The front flap was zipped but not locked. There were vents at the top, but he couldn’t see in.

  Kane listened. He didn’t hear anyone inside. He motioned for Nate to unzip on three. It was a difficult move, using the tip of his rifle, but one every soldier had trained for.

  Nate got into position.

  Three. Two. One.

  Nate unzipped rapidly, and Kane stepped inside, gun out, looking for movement.

  The tent was empty.

  He whistled for Noah and motioned for Nate to guard the area.

  Inside there were
three sleeping bags, an ice chest, two large satchels. Kane searched the tent for weapons; there were none. The ice chest was locked. He picked the lock; inside was food and water. It wasn’t cool, but the ice chest protected the food from predators.

  Noah searched the two bags. Inside were two extra cell phones; he tossed them to Kane. Some cash—two hundred US dollars and maybe eight hundred in Mexican currency. “No bonds,” Noah said. He pulled out a file folder. “Kane.”

  Kane opened the folder and they both looked at the contents. The handwriting seemed feminine, most likely Eden’s. Information about Sean and Lucy, their address, Sean’s security system, notes about Lucy and her family, mostly Jack. Another page was information about the region they were in, roads and paths, and a supply list.

  There were many doodles, but Kane didn’t know if they meant anything. Noah took the sheet outside to Siobhan. “You know this area—these marks look like a map of sorts.”

  Siobhan stared, turned the paper. “This looks like it could be the floor plan for a church—this is a vestibule, an altar, these crosses a cemetery. Don’t know if it means anything.”

  Kane stuffed everything back into the pack and zipped up the tent. “Three bags, three people. Liam, Eden, and Dante. They’ll be back, probably by dark.” Did he wait for them or track them?

  Nate whistled from a hundred yards away. Kane couldn’t see him, motioned for Noah to stay with Siobhan, and followed the sound. He approached and saw Nate standing at an opening to an overgrown path.

  “They went this way.” Nate motioned to recently broken branches, footprints.

  Pursue or wait. How far had they gone? Where did the path lead? Kane saw thick foliage ahead, but according to the topographical maps he had studied earlier, the other side of this mountain was a series of valleys and plateaus. There were hidden dangers—human and animal—and Kane didn’t like going into any situation blind.