Page 8 of How Much For A Broken Heart?

“Any new tech has to be foolproof and user-friendly,” I warned.

“Absolutely—”

“Guys!” Simon interrupted and rolled his eyes as both Cain and I turned to him. “Coffee?” he asked me.

“Black, please.”

Then, Simon focused on Cain. “You get the coffee, babe.” He shot me a glance. “Cain, I mean.”

Cain grumbled about boyfriends who didn’t care about the information process, but he did wander off to wherever they had coffee.

“You’re partners then?” I asked because I needed to know the people I worked with.

“Work and life,” Simon said, then tilted his chin and my gaze fell to the ring on his hand. His expression asked if I had a problem with that, and of course, I freaking didn’t.

“Hashtag rainbow army,” I deadpanned, then offered Simon a fist bump. “So, show me what I’m facing here.”

He crossed to a table and flicked a switch, and I realized the large top was actually a set of large, embedded screens.

Simon traced the sinuous path of a river on a map. “This is the operational zone of the Cooper River Cartel,” he said, his voice all business as Cain came back with coffees and handed us ours.

“No coffees on the twenty-million-dollar table please,” he muttered, and Simon ducked his head—I sensed a story there.

“It was once,” he grumbled.

“Once was enough.”

They exchanged glances, and Cain’s serious expression slipped into a smile.

“Okay then,” Simon began. “This is the Francis Marion National Forest, South Carolina, northeast of Charleston and part of the low-country region.” The digital map on the screen showed the forest, a sprawling green mass across the state that was about to become my hunting ground.

I leaned forward, scanning the dense forest. “And this Cooper River Cartel?” I asked, a name I hadn’t come across before. “What’s their main game?”

“Narcotics, guns, trafficking, primarily,” Simon replied. “Cocaine, meth, and some marijuana cultivation.”

I frowned, processing this. The variety in their criminal portfolio meant they were adaptable. Dangerous. All of that made what they needed me to do that bit harder.

But not impossible.

Army Rangers didn’t know the meaning of the word impossible.

“And the leadership?” I probed further. “Who are we looking at here?”

“That’s the tricky part,” Simon said, shaking his head. “Their leader is a ghost. No concrete identity. We have a couple of the lieutenants who handle the day-to-day, thanks to the file that August gave us, but none of them will give up who is running this. Could be one person, but our intel suggests it could be more than one person.”

I understood the challenge we faced. A faceless enemy was always harder to combat.

“Any ideas at all?”

Cain shook his head. “Maybe it’s unique and run at lieutenant level, but no, nothing.”

“And they have terrain advantage over law enforcement, I assume?” I asked, already knowing part of the answer.

“Exactly,” Simon confirmed. “The forest itself is their fortress. The terrain is tough, full of swamps and dense woods. Makes it hard for law enforcement to make any headway, even the park rangers are holding off engaging even though there is a task force set up for the wildlife issues.”

Navigating that kind of terrain wouldn’t be easy.

“I’m more used to the desert,” I said, because they needed to know my limitations as well as my expertise.

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