Page 134 of Bossy Hero

Becoming visibly concerned, Klein scruffs his hand over his jaw. “Oh no. What did he do?”

“West was a technical specialist in the Rangers,” Tomer muses. “Not only does he know his way around a computer, but he can kill you with his bare hands or from hundreds of feet away, so the possibilities are endless.”

Leo nods in Tomer’s direction. “Exactly. He did a little bit of everything.” He shifts his eyes to me, brows raised. “Speaking of his illegal activities, what I’m about to tell you?—”

Sensing what’s coming, I jump to the answer he wants. “Lionheart, unless West did something directly to contribute to what they did to Lettie or your mother, we’ll keep his name out of this to the extent possible. So long as he’s clean, we’ll use his intel, and that’s it. Fair?”

Not only do I check Leo’s reaction to that decree, but the others at the table. Even Tomer nods, probably since I added the caveat about Lettie.

“Just making sure. He’s clean now and says he’s cut all ties with them.” Leo’s chest expands with a deep breath, and he returns his attention to the diagram. “At first, West was asked to rough up the low-level dealers and buyers. Basically to keep them in line or get them to pay their debts. Naturally, he was good at it and got results. That pushed him up the chain. He began serving as security for the bigger fish when they’d go to make high-level deals and move huge quantities of product. Essentially, they made him one of their goons.” He points to a box in the center of the drawing. “But he was still in the middle of the organization.”

“Even still, he had to have heard a lot during those discussions,” Tomer suggests.

Leo dips his chin in agreement. “Correct. But it didn’t stop there for him. I’ll spare you the whole story of how it came to be, but he ended up in a somewhat pivotal role. And that’s when he learned who he was really working for—the Costa Cartel.”

“What’s their claim to fame?” Klein asks.

Mia eagerly responds. “The Costas are a crime syndicate out of Columbia. Heavy ties to various guerilla organizations and rebel forces.”

Klein resumes tapping his pen on the table. “Guns? Drugs? People?”

Mia splays her hands wide. “All that and more. Government corruption, kidnapping plots, and most recently, they’ve been big players in the Columbian emerald trade wars.”

While he chews on that, I redirect us to Leo and the topic du jour. “Lionheart, what did West do for the cartel in this new role?”

“Scouted locations for big trades, set up surveillance infrastructure for them, blocked enemy surveillance, helped them find corrupt members of law enforcement or those who were corruptible. All that kind of shit. He really got his hands dirty, and he’s lucky his ass isn’t in prison for life.”

My gut sours. All the talent that kid had, and he couldn’t get his shit together enough to use it for good.

Looking back, I wish I’d had more time with him. He was in my unit so briefly that I had no idea where his head was or that he was susceptible to this type of thing.

Too late now. Sadly.

I wave my hand toward the diagram. “Carry on, Lionheart.”

“Right, so this next ring is where I think we have the most valuable intel.” He points at a long list written in West’s barely legible scrawl. “He jotted these down off the top of his head. These are the organizations from some of the bigger deals. And we’ve got a few names to investigate.”

Tomer returns to his workstation and zooms in on the list. He chuckles darkly. “Recognize anyone, kids?”

Klein drops that fucking pen, which is a damn good thing since I was about to snatch it out of his hand and throw it at his face. “You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he whines.

Mia’s head sags forward. “Dammit.”

Unlike the others, my reaction isn’t because I was proved right or wrong. It’s full of disappointment. “Well, fuck me.”

The grin on Tomer’s face is somewhere between gloating and disappointed. He cocks his brow at Mia. “What are the odds, huh?”

On the list of players, one name stands above the rest.

Katia Bugrov.

Chapter23

Crack up or break down

Maddie

Sammy uses the tip of her finger to slide my cell phone across the table. “Go on.” Another nudge, moving it two inches closer to me. “You can do it.” One more tiny push.

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