Page 6 of Brick's Retribution

I flip it open, scanning the basics.

Twenty-six years old.

Harvard Business School graduate.

Currently working for her father's import/export business.

The photo shows a stunning woman with caramel skin, dark eyes, and an expression that manages to be both regal and dangerous.

"She's been living in El Paso for the past six months," Amara continues. "Overseeing some of her father's legitimate business interests. Three days ago, someone tried to take her out at her apartment. Professional hit, not a random attack."

I glance up from the file. "Any suspects?"

"That's what her father's people are investigating. In the meantime, Alejandro requested our help getting her to safety."

"And her father couldn't send his own men because...?"

Amara's expression darkens. "Because he believes the hit came from inside his organization. Trust is in short supply right now."

Great, a cartel civil war.

"Your contact in El Paso is Diego." She hands me a burner phone. "He'll text you the meeting location once you're in the city. Get in, get the girl, get out. No detours, no side missions."

So basically, she means no looking for Lashes.

"The route's been mapped out," she continues, unfolding a detailed map of the border region. "You'll avoid main highways. Take the mountain passes. It's longer, but safer."

I memorize the route, noting the safe houses marked along the way. "What's her security situation? Armed escort? Decoy vehicles?"

"You're it."

I blink. "Just me? For cartel royalty under an active threat?"

"A larger group would attract attention. Two people on a bike can disappear easier." She leans back in her chair. "Besides, you're not just a pretty face with a gun. You're our medic. If anything happens, you can handle it. It’s why I’m sending you."

The vote of confidence doesn't exactly comfort me. "And if I run into trouble I can't handle?"

"Call this number." She scribbles on a piece of paper. "Memorize it, then destroy it. It's a direct line to Alejandro's personal security. Use it only as a last resort."

I commit the number to memory, then rip the paper into tiny pieces. "Anything else I should know?"

Amara hesitates, which is unusual for her. "Imani isn't just a package to be delivered. She's... complicated. Smart. Dangerous in her own way."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she watched her mother and brother get gunned down when she was five. Meaning she can handle herself in a fight. Meaning she's not going to take kindly to being treated like helpless cargo." Amara's eyes narrow. "So don't."

This isn't a damsel in distress situation.

This is a temperamental force of nature who happens to have a target on her back.

I nod, understanding. "Will I have any issues at the border with what I’m carrying?"

"No, you’re all good."

I give her another nod, showing I understand her. "Got it."

"One more thing." Amara's voice drops. "There are rumors... whispers about a trafficking operation working the border. High-end merchandise. Exclusive buyers."

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