Page 3 of Tango

“We’re not sure.” He looked at his watch then over my head. “Lift the bed so he can sit up.” The head of the bed started to rise, and I winced at the pain. Fuck, that hurt.

“Where am I?”

“Well, that depends on your next answer.” He snatched a water from someone in the room and handed it to me. I tossed the straw and poured the cool water down my aching throat. “Paul, as of right now, your brothers think you’re dead. Technically, you did flatline in the chopper on the way back.”

I lowered the cup, confused, and studied Frank with narrowed eyes.

“Hear me out.” He held up his hands. “There was a witness in the Cartel who told Castillo that you were dead. He said he saw it with his own eyes. The news spread like wildfire, and we’re hearing chatter that one of our guys died, but they don’t know for sure exactly who was killed. We can play this in two ways. You come back from the dead and join your brothers, or you fight from the inside and protect your family as a ghost agent.”

“Jesus,” I huffed.

“Look, Paul,” Frank sat on the side of the bed, “I get it’s a lot, but truth be told, you’re the one agent who doesn’t have much for a blood family, no real ties to anything. You’re the one guy who—other than Blackstone, of course—no one knows much about.”

“I see. And what about John?” Blackstone were my brothers, but John was on a different level. He and I were one and the same. “You think he’s going to agree to me doing this?”

“He’ll never know. He can’t know.” Frank put a hand on my arm, but I pulled it back and glared at him.

“I know what this means, Paul. I would never have wished this on you, on anyone, but it’s happened, and when you consider how this could work, how valuable you could be…” He shrugged. “So, maybe if you grew a beard, tattooed some shit on your arms. Well, I’d handle the rest.”

“What about the informants you have there now?”

“They’re good, but nothing like you could be. You’re business smart, a leader, but most of all you know how they operate. I need someone in Rosarito I trust, someone who can handle Castillo. Things are unraveling fast there, and we need someone like you there to feed us intel.” He looked at his phone. “These opportunities don’t happen often, and I know it’s a lot to digest. We only have a small window to play this right.” The pain I felt wasn’t just from the bullet wound; it radiated through my core as my mind spun.

“Blackstone needs this.”

“How can I lie to them?”

“It’s a necessary lie, Paul, and in fairness, you did die. We were just able to bring you back. But this is a lie to protect them. You’ll be protecting them, just from the other side.”

“If,” I paused, shocked I was even considering this, “I do this, I want to be already established. My name needs to already mean something within the Cartel world. Can you do that?” I didn’t wait for an answer and went on. “I also want a house with soldiers, and I need to know I have constant communication with you when I need it. Regular check-ins.” I shifted. I could remember hearing the horror stories about other agents who had switched to ghost agents and had lost themselves mentally in those positions.

“I’ve already thought that out. You’d be Denton Barlow’s cousin. As for everything else, I’ll handle it. It’ll be done.” He held out a hand, and one of the armed men in the room handed him a small black box. “Do we have a deal?”

I’d do anything for Blackstone and Shadows. He was right. I had no real family. My sister was much older and had her own life struggles, and my aunt who raised me when my parents bounced would survive. No one would really care enough to come looking for me. I tried not to think of John and all the memories we had together. How we talked about our future families and how we were brothers ’til the end.

“Deal.” What the hell was I thinking?

“These,” he set the box next to me, “are going to be given to the team because what Cole went through. We thought it was time you all had some kind of tracker.” He explained how the watch worked. “I removed the battery from yours, but you are and will always be a Blackstone member, so I had this one made for you. This, your passports, money, and a weapon should be stored somewhere safe outside of town. If you ever get compromised, all you need is a watch battery, and once it’s powered up, the tracker will send a signal to us and we’ll find you. If you get caught, pull the pin and swallow it. That way, we can still track you even if the watch is taken.”

“Okay.” I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I hated to know I was going to bring my brothers at Shadows such pain, but if I could make a difference to protect them, I would make the sacrifice.

“Your country thanks you.” Frank shook my hand.

A bump in the road jolted me back to the present, and I shook my head clear. Ten fucking years I’d lived with and as the enemy, but Frank had kept his word and checked in with me every single month. If I hadn’t had that, I was sure I’d never have survived at all, certainly not as long as I did.

I eyed the small black box, then thumbed it open and pulled the sleek black watch from its case. I pressed my palm hard against the wheel and used my knife to pop the back off, then ripped the battery package open with my teeth. Despite my large hands, I was able to drop it in place and saw the mini contraption come to life. I spotted the little pin in the strap, but only because I knew where to look.

Nice job, Logan.

Once I was a mile from the safehouse, I used the one number that was programmed into the burner phone. I turned it on, shocked that the friggin’ thing even worked, and waited for them to answer.

“Are you here?” It was a male.

“I’m a mile out, in a borrowed car, and I’m not sure—”

He cut me off. “Stay put. We’ll come to you.”

Though I didn’t have the exact address to the safehouse, I did have a point of contact that would have called them once I made it there. We were close to the San Ysidro port of entry between Tijuana and San Diego, and that meant we were in heavy Cartel land.

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