by Elisabeth Naughton, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright, Joan Swan
Rio gripped Pedro’s shirt, pulled him from the wall, and threw him into the middle of the room, holding on to the idiot’s gun. Rio’s own weapon was out of bullets. He’d emptied them at the tires of the truck after the metal door had closed. But it had been too far away and moving too fast.
“This?” Rio said. “This is who you want between you and Hezbollah-trained terrorists? This is who you want to trust with your success? Your safety? Your life? This is where you truly want to invest your loyalties, Saul?”
Pedro was on his knees, bent over his arm, glaring up at him. Rio considered holding the weapon to Saul’s head until he told him where he’d stashed Cassie, but from past history, he knew Saul was far more motivated by money than fear.
“And you think I should trust you? A man who chooses loyalty to a puta over me?”
Rio narrowed his eyes on Saul. “What the hell are you talking about now?”
“The bitch was gone,” Pedro growled from the floor. “And you tipped her off. You told her to run.”
Rio’s stomach iced over, but he scoffed. “You don’t know what in the hell you’re talking about.”
Pedro got to his feet, flexing and clenching his injured hand. Rio wished he’d broken it. “Yeah, I do. One of the workers heard you bribe Solana to get Nina out of town so we didn’t take Cassie’s cousin. I found out when I got there to snag her and they were both gone that you’d been there, and that right after you left, Solana and the bitch had an argument, then jammed.”
“What about it, Rio?” Saul asked, hands in the pockets of his slacks, chin up so he could look down his nose at Rio. “Why were you at the clinic this morning?”
“To make sure Nina would be there,” he said as if the answer were as obvious as red and yellow make orange. “To make sure there wouldn’t be any surprises.” He shoved Pedro’s weapon alongside his own in the waistband of his jeans, put his hands on his hips, and stared Saul down. “Are you seriously going to stand there and take his word over mine?”
Pedro looked like he was going to say something, so Rio grabbed his throat and drove his thumb into his trachea until the fucker was rasping for every wisp of air.
“I’m questioning who I should trust at this very delicate point in our operation, Rio,” Saul said.
That was the final push. Rio had to use his ace in the hole. Pull out all the stops. Cassie’s life depended on it. If Saul called his bluff…Rio knew the chances of finding Cassie on his own dwindled considerably. But if Rio didn’t at least try, Cassie was dead for sure.
Rio released Pedro with a snap of his wrist, leaving the other man wilted and gasping for air. As he backed toward the door, his hand ready to grab for his weapon, he snarled, “I’ll make that easy for you, Saul—I’m out. After everything I’ve done for you, if you still don’t believe you can trust me, if you believe this trash can serve you better”—he put one hand up in a gesture of surrender—“the deal is yours. We part ways right now.”
Saul’s mouth twisted in a pained grin. “But you know I can’t do that, Rio, don’t you? You’ve cultivated a loyal follower in Ahmed. He wants your assurance that the men will be put into the right hands. Wants confirmation that he’ll be paid. Threatened to call in an anonymous tip to the authorities if you didn’t call him within the hour. Of course, he doesn’t realize that the local authorities are no threat to us. But you should give him a call anyway, smooth his feathers.”
“Not interested,” Rio said. “Ahmed’s not the only game in town. There are others willing to sell men just as valuable. As I said, Saul, you can have this deal. I’ll simply cultivate my business elsewhere.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Saul said. “Which was one of the reasons I had Pedro take Cassandra. As insurance.”
“In— What?” Rio turned on Pedro and suddenly saw the similarity between the height and build of the kidnapper. Rio lost it. He just lost it. His last image of Cassie filled his mind—the rifle slamming against the side of her head, her small body careening across the cargo space and hitting the floor like a rag doll. He clamped a hand around Pedro’s throat and rammed him against the wall. He’d never wanted to kill anyone so badly in his entire life—not even Saul.
“Well, your new amigo here has royally fucked you, Saul.” Rio had to use every brain cell he had to compartmentalize his thoughts and feelings before he voiced his next words. “Because the bastard clocked her so hard with his rifle, I’d be surprised if she’s still breathing. And if she’s not breathing, not only can you kiss this whole estate and all its income good-bye, you can hightail your asses to Kazbekistan, because the Mexican military, the American CIA and FBI, and who else knows what other law enforcement will be crawling up your asses within twelve hours. You won’t have time to spend any money or develop any enterprise.”
Saul’s gaze sliced to Pedro, and his jaw hardened. “I told you—”
“The bitch was still breathin’ when Alvarado dropped me off.”
Rio tightened his grip and drove his thumb into Pedro’s trachea. The reptile clawed at Rio’s hand. His eyes bugged out, and his dark skin turned the color of eggplant.
“Pedro, wait outside,” Saul said, looking past Rio. “Get the weapons from the vault and pull yourself together.”
Rio released the scum. Pedro curled in, half wheezing for air, then stumbled for the door, muttering, “I’ll kill you for this, man.”
“Uh-huh.” Rio waited for the door to close before he turned to Saul. “I thought you were smarter than this.”
“It seems I’ve made the same overestimation of you,” he said. “I believed you were far too smart to fall for Cassandra.”
“We had this discussion last night.”
“And then this morning…”
“We’re going round and round here. It comes down to whether or not you’re going to believe what I’m telling you. Have I lied to you in the past, Saul?”
He paused, narrowed his eyes. “You’re telling me that you didn’t blur the line between business and affection with her? That you didn’t warn Nina to save Cassandra the heartache?”
No, he hadn’t blurred the line. He’d erased it.
“Cassie is as important to me as any prime piece of ass would be to any man with decent cojones.” He stepped toward Saul, purposely towered over him. “And if anyone was going to smack her around, it should have been me. That was my right. After all you forced me to put up with from her, to give that pissant the privilege of beating the bitch into submission? I’m the only one who had the right to pistol whip my own bitch.”
Saul’s mouth pursed, his brow furrowed. He nodded. “That is very true. Had I not doubted… I would never take that right away from any man.”
The bastard was dead serious. The depravity of the people he dealt with sometimes still scrambled Rio’s mind.
“But I have another concern,” Saul said. “I heard you were at the docks today with someone from out of town.”
That was what this was really about. He’d been made. Someone had identified Mike as a cop, and Rio’s cover had been blown. Which meant he was a walking dead man. Which meant that if Cassie was still alive, she wouldn’t be for long. And Tomás was in deep jeopardy.
“So?” Rio said.
“I can understand how tempting it would be to entertain traitorous offers.”
Saul’s voice had shifted to his more contemplative, congenial, deal-making tone as he walked toward the window again. Rio’s mind whirled. Traitorous offers?
“The tangos are worth a great deal of money.” Saul paused at the windows and turned to face Rio. The ice-cold anger in his eyes could have cut stone, but his tone remained cool. “You’ve done most of the work, the follow-through. But if you were unhappy with the financial arrangements, you should have spoken up before entertaining other propositions.”
Rio had no idea what in the hell was going on here, so he just rolled with it. “First, you haven’t been either trusting or forthcoming, so negotiation never crossed
my mind as a viable option. And second, talking is in no way negotiating. Someone asks for a meeting, I meet with them. I never know what they’ll want to talk about and generally walk away from these meetings with inside information. And third, I’m getting really sick of you accusing me of these random acts when you have no evidence and are just fishing for me to confess to something.”
“Are you saying you were not planning on selling out to the Muertos closer who came from Agua Prieta?”
Christ. Would have been nice of Mike to tell Rio he’d posed as a Muertos fat ass when he’d come into town. If Rio lived, that jerk was so going to get a piece of his mind.
“I was placating him,” Rio said. “But, hell, with the way you’ve been treating me the last few months, and now this motherfucking screwup, I have to admit, their offer is looking mighty interesting. Especially if your ass is in some filthy military prison cell for offing a US citizen.”
“She has to die,” Saul said without a flicker of emotion. “Dominic didn’t trust her responses to his questioning after the Santiago murders. He was certain she would bring in bigger guns to investigate. And several guests at the party were uneasy with her seamless composure so soon after Alejandra’s and Santos’s deaths. Her presence in Baja and the rumors of her activities have caused quite a stir. Her elimination has been demanded by those far more powerful than I. They have assured me there will be no military reprisal, no American government involvement in her death.”
Rio snorted, even though acid had eaten a hole through his stomach lining. “And you believe them?”
A dry smile turned the edges of Saul’s lips. “I’ve been asked that a lot today…who I believe.”
“Fine. You know what, it’s your ass, Saul. Here’s my offer. Listen close, ’cause it’s the only one you’re going to get.” He was done with these games. Rio straightened his shoulders, tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his jeans, and scraped air in through his closing throat. “I’ll go through with this deal, get your terrorists sold, and get everyone paid. In return, you let me be the one to kill Cassie. Then, and only then, we’ll decide whether we move forward in business together or part ways.”
Late afternoon pushed the arroyos and gullies of northern Mexico into bruising shadow. Rio rested his pounding head against his hand as he drove. Saul sat silently in the passenger seat, gun resting in his lap, hand nervously clenching and flexing on the grip. He’d taken all Rio’s weapons while Pedro had pointed a semiautomatic rifle at his chest, then sent the gofer ahead to meet Tomás and Alvarado, which told Rio the man wanted to talk. But neither of them had uttered a word in over an hour.
Rio allowed the silence, his mind alternately torturing him over the fear that Cassie was already lying dead in the back of that truck and trying to figure out how, on the off chance she was still alive, he would keep her alive until he could get her to a hospital.
While the tango transfer was secure, Cassie’s location was still unknown. And despite Kollman’s assurance he would find her, Rio knew the vastness of this desert firsthand. Knew the type of men Saul hired. Had seen the force Pedro had put behind that blow to Cassie’s head.
“I’m afraid I may have been a bit hasty.” Saul’s voice resonated in the cab of the truck, and Rio tensed. The unexpected sound coupled with his thoughts made Rio’s stomach pitch sideways.
He said nothing. Remained focused out the windshield and drove as fast as the pitted dirt road allowed.
“You have to admit,” Saul continued, “from my perspective, it didn’t look good.”
God, he didn’t want to do this. His head wasn’t in this game. Nor was his heart. He’d been motivated and focused for years. Had rid his homeland of predators that targeted the weak, vulnerable, and poor. Had saved an untold number of lives—lives like his sister’s. Had bettered the lives of an untold number of families—families like his own. Yes, there had been casualties along the way as well. Casualties that would have been, regardless of his work or lack thereof.
But Cassie shouldn’t have been one of those. Cassie was an innocent bystander. One who’d come from outside the situation, outside the damn country and walked right into the line of fire. And instead of doing the right thing and forcing her out, he’d followed orders. Orders that never put faces to the innocent, never took the innocent into account.
No, he definitely couldn’t do this anymore. And the last thing he had to do was get Cassie out.
“I admire your ambition,” Saul continued. “And I appreciate your loyalty. It’s something I’m not used to, so I’m…suspicious. I have an Achilles’ heel where emotions and trust are concerned. I’d like you to consider staying on after this transfer. We’ll sit down, get everything hashed out, renegotiated.”
Rio rubbed a hand over his mouth, waiting for Saul’s next move.
“Dominic has developed fresh contacts, ones that could bring in a steady stream of terrorists, which means steady revenue, and creates a need for men I can trust. It’s true that Dominic doesn’t care for your…strong personality, but I think we can all strike a balance once Cassandra is out of the picture.”
Rio ground his teeth. “You’re trusting the wrong people. Fermin is out for himself. You are nothing to him but a means of achieving success. He’s using you as a conduit into a business where he reaps the benefits and suffers none of the risks. Putting doubt in your head about me only gives him room to control the business.” He glanced at Saul, found him watching, listening. Rio shrugged as if the whole subject didn’t interest him much and refocused on the road. “What do you really know about Alvarado anyway? He could be someone Fermin planted to get close to you. That man will take every ounce of control you give away. And don’t tell me he didn’t help plant those suspicions in your head about Cassie and me.”
Saul looked out the side window, the muscles in his cheek pumping. Sculpted cliffs and sand rough with brush whizzed past, only a dull line of asphalt stretching before them. Rio tried to avoid focusing on the rippling heat distorting his view into the distance, reminding him how searing hot it had to be out there, how Cassie had to be suffering—if she was even still alive.
“Truthfully, I don’t know who to trust at this point,” Saul said. “But we’ll discuss it after this transfer.”
Rio turned off the empty desert highway and onto the dirt road leading to the new meeting location, searching the heavy brush and canyon crevices for a glimpse of the truck where Cassie remained trapped. If she were trapped at all. Alvarado could have just dumped her in the desert.
But they reached the site without any sighting. Rio parked in the shade at the base of an arroyo and angled from the truck. The Nogales heat dried his lungs to dust in one breath.
Rounding the truck, Saul pulled sunglasses on and squinted up at the sun as he leaned on the tailgate.
Rio pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head and rubbed a hand over his face. “Where’s the bitch? Like to get my hands on her before the sun kills her for me.”
“Not far from here. I’ll enjoy watching that.” He turned a grin on Rio. “You don’t mind if I watch, do you?”
Before Rio could answer, a dust cloud in the distance caught his eye. A small industrial truck traveled along the road he and Saul had taken minutes ago, a pickup coming in behind. Tomás, Alvarado, and Pedro with the terrorists.
Rio straightened from the truck, focused on Tomás in the driver’s seat. Alvarado climbed from the passenger’s side and surveyed the surroundings from beneath black sunglasses. Pedro pulled up alongside, jumped out, and headed to the back of the enclosed truck.
Tomás shoved his door open, a serious frown pulling at his mouth, hands fisted at his sides. He tossed his sunglasses on the seat of the truck, slammed the door, and started toward Rio.
“Looks like someone’s angry with you, amigo,” Saul said.
“You backstabbing sonofabitch!” Tomás spit the words at Rio as he cut a direct path toward him. Alvarado made a grab for Tomás’s arm as he passed an
d held him back. “You’re a sorry-assed excuse for a man.”
“And you’ve got shit for brains if you’re going to listen to that screw-off.” Rio pointed in Pedro’s direction, approaching his partner with obvious menace. “Keep your goddamned mouth shut unless you know what the hell you’re talking about, Hernandez.”
Tomás broke free of Alvarado’s grip, his boots cracking the dry earth as he closed in on Rio, fisted the front of Rio’s shirt with one giant hand, and shoved him even farther from the group. “You calling me stupid, puto?”
“If you believe them over me”—he gestured toward Alvarado and Pedro—“then, yeah, I’m calling you worse than stupid.”
Tomás dipped his chin and faked a punch to Rio’s gut. Rio bent, stumbled, allowed his partner to trip him, then dragged Tomás with him, and rolled when he hit the ground. Rio used a high school wrestling move, flipped Tomás onto his back, and pressed a forearm to Tomás’s neck.
He leaned close, nearly breathless from the heat. “Cassie.”
“Alive but badly injured,” Tomás whispered. “Two miles east. Truck painted camouflage. Base of largest arroyo. Just learned. Kollman doesn’t know.”
Air whooshed from Rio’s lungs just in time to coordinate with a false knee to the gut from Tomás. His partner untangled himself, pushed Rio off, and stood. Rio curled onto his side, grabbing his belly. The show of pain was only fake in part. Badly injured replayed over and over in his head. Tomás downplayed everything. Badly injured to Tomás was something Rio would consider life threatening.
Tomás spit at Rio’s feet. “You’re the stupid one, Santana.”
Stupid didn’t even begin to describe how Rio had handled this situation with Cassie.
When Tomás turned back toward the group, Rio made a show of getting to his feet. Desperation made his breath catch, made his heart knock against aching lungs. For the last show of cultural machismo and the opportunity to issue what might very well be his last order, Rio lunged for Tomás’s arm and twisted it behind his back. With his face by Tomás’s ear, Rio rasped, “Get her out. She’s your first priority.”