Page 74 of Winters Heat

“Not much of a leader. Nothing I’d think a cartel number two should be.” Mia wrung her hands together. “Not that I know much about it, I guess.”

“Give us something. Your file says you’re a psychologist. What can you tell us?”

Deep breath in, out. She blocked her repulsion and analyzed her memories. “Where Juan Carlos was a narcissist, Alejandro was a need-driven fiend. His interest lies in what they called theirproduct,and Juan Carlos kept him in line with promises of…well, of me.” She took a deep breath. “He may have the brawn to keep men in line but not the brains. And he knows it, too. Strategy won’t be his thing. But torture? That’s his modus operandi.”

“Good job, Mia. That’s great.”

“Why would that be a good thing?” Mia scrunched her forehead.

“Because Winters can handle a little torture, and he’s smart as they come.”

“But he’s hurt bad. He told me so.”

“He’ll do what it takes to make himself ready for our arrival. He knows the drill.” Jared turned toward the table and their drawings. “All right. So they have a leader. They have plenty of men. We need another blitz attack to confuse the hell out of them again. We figure out where our boy is, grab him, and hightail it on home.”

Mia cleared her throat. “They kept me in a room that looked like it was for…captives. Top of the stairs and down a long hallway, locked from the outside. No windows.”

“Smart girl. So we get into that room. Brock, I need diversionary explosions here, here, and here.” Jared pointed to the schematics on the table. “A fiery blockade near this section, where his men congregate.”

“Roger that.” Brock narrowed his review on the map.

“Cash, position here,” Jared said. “I want you to cover me on the way in, pick off anyone you see in the house, and provide cover on our way out.”

Cash gave a chin lift. His cowboy hat rode low over his shaggy hair, piercing eyes, and camo-painted face.

“I want wheels here, Roc. Double-check that armored Rover. I gave it a hell of a beating when Mia and I hauled ass out there.”

Rocco cracked his neck right, then left. “Ain’t nothing gonna take that Rover down. But I’ll give it a once-over.”

“Brock, you’ll go in with me. Rocco, you follow behind.”

“What about me?” She hated interrupting him, but he edged her out of their discussion.

Jared didn’t skip a beat. “What about you?”

“What will I do?”

“You’ll sit your behind on this chair.” He tapped the back of a ratty chair. “And wait for us to come back with your boy.”

“I don’t think so.” She puffed out her chest and straightened her shoulders. Anything to make Jared change his mind.

He coughed a sarcastic laugh. “I’m not giving you an option here, Mia. This isn’t a game, and you’ll do as you’re told.”

“I didn’t say it was a game.” She took a step forward. “I’m just supposed to sit here and wait?”

“No two ways about it. You’ll stay put. The rest of you, let’s go.” He motioned toward the door.

“I could—”

“You can’t.”

Mia slapped her hands onto her hips. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Honestly, I don’t care. We don’t have time to debate this.”

“Prick.”

He cracked the tiniest smile. She saw it, but it faded faster than his shutdowns. “Call me all the names you want. But if you went back out there and got hurt, Winters would have my ass.”

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