Page 84 of Fast Vengeance

His expression brightened. “Yeah. Shit, it was only mentioned once, and kind of in passing.” He frowned, thinking. “What did it say?”

She nodded and waved her hand in a circle in encouragement for him to keep pulling on that thread. “It’s a place. The name of a place. Something in Spanish, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He frowned. “Damn, what the hell was it again?”

She wracked her brain along with him. Snake head? Fangs? Venom? That was the literal translation for the Veneno cartel. Venom.

She made a sound of frustration, grabbed handfuls of her hair. “God, why can’t I remember it?” Montoya might be headed there now. If she could remember what the hell it was called, maybe she could remember where it was and find it on the map. Give the team a location so they could get a jump on him.

She paced for another few minutes, then dropped into the chair beside Brock’s bed. She took his hand, kept thinking, but the exact wording eluded her.

At last Taggart came back in, carrying a laptop. “This thing’s pretty ancient,” he told her, setting it up on the rolling table next to Brock’s bed and plugging it in for her, “but they said it works and the connection’s decent.”

Victoria went right to work, going to the website where her files were stored. The network wasn’t secure by any means, but she didn’t care if anyone knew she was accessing her old files. All that mattered right now was finding Montoya before he melted away someplace.

It took her three tries to get the password right. Finally, she was in.

She clicked on the third file marked Notes, urgency thrumming through her. Taggart and Brock watched her every move as she scrolled through the documents stored in the file. Then she came to the one named Locations.

“Bingo,” she murmured, and opened it. Her heart beat faster and faster as she skimmed the contents, then skipped once.

There. There it was.

“Cola de serpiente de cascabel?” she said, looking up at Taggart for confirmation.

Surprise flashed in his aqua eyes. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Holy shit. Her heart was pounding. This might mean the end of Montoya. “It means tail of the rattlesnake. It’s named for a rock formation that looks like the rattles on a snake’s tail.”

His posture tensed, his expression intensifying. “Do you know where it is?”

“Yes. In the middle of Chihuahua. Here.” She clicked on the link to a map she had included, pointed to the spot with her finger.

Taggart held up a finger and whipped out his phone. “Get us the best satellite images of Chihuahua you’ve got,” he said to whomever he’d called. “I’m bringing Victoria Gomez into HQ right now. I think we might have a target location for Montoya.”

****

So Nieto and el Escorpion were both dead.

Juan couldn’t help but smile to himself as he drove the Jeep behind the rock formation and killed the engine. Shaped like the end of a rattlesnake’s tail, it would hide him until he left in the morning. Ruiz had used this place in the past, bringing only his most trusted men here. Now that he was in prison, Juan was the only one to use it.

With all of his rivals either dead or behind bars, there was no one left to stand in his way. The remnants of the cartel would be in chaos. Using Ruiz’s former network, he would step in and take control. Everyone would answer to him. He would kill anyone who challenged or posed a threat to him.

He was going to be fucking rich beyond his wildest dreams.

The sun was just about to set over the ridge to the west. He gazed around the vast emptiness surrounding him, taking a deep breath of the dry, hot air. The chirp of chapulines was the only sound in the quiet. Nobody around for miles.

He shifted the backpack on his shoulder as he walked toward the small wooden cabin. Inside he would have a hot meal, enjoy the bottle of whiskey he’d brought and the cigars Ruiz always stocked in all of his places, even out here. He dropped his bag inside, grabbed the shovel from beside the door and walked back out into the sunset.

Through a contact at the prison, Ruiz had worked his network to give Juan a map showing the location where he’d buried emergency cash reserves on the property. Enough money to buy whatever and whoever he needed to stay off grid while he planned his next move.

Reaching the approximate spot marked on the map he pulled from his pocket, he stabbed the blade of his shovel into the dry earth and jammed a foot down on it. In all, there was over twenty million U.S. dollars buried out here. It would go a long way in aiding him on the coming takeover.

Juan whistled to himself as he dug, not minding the physical work, more at ease than he had been in years. For the first time in forever, he had a whole night to himself in a place he could let his guard down and truly relax.

Tonight, he would celebrate all his victories. Tomorrow, he would begin taking what was his.

****

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