Page 5 of Lethal Vengeance
“What are you doing?” He spits out.
I lower the gun and push the nozzle into his chest. “Taking your picture. I don’t know you, but I assume Rodrigo does.” When he finally drops his hand, I snap a pic and text it to Rodrigo to confirm.
“Friend” is the reply I get back.
“Looks like you passed,” I laughingly inform the man sweating profusely in front of me while I put my gun away. Rodrigo’s name generates fear. It’s a useful tool, especially when dealing with scum like him.
He sighs in relief and quickly backs away from me.
I guess we’re not going to be friends. What a shame. I shut the back doors and head to the front. Once in, I toss my bag into the passenger seat, take a deep breath, and jam my foot on the pedal.
Did Rodrigo set this job up or Armando?
Does it matter?My inner voice mocks me.
Like all the others, it’s a test that I need to pass to get to the final phase. For three years, I’ve been hunting my prey. I caught his brother, Julio, a little over a year ago, but Armando has proved to be more elusive. Maybe he’s smarter than his twin, or more paranoid, but he’s almost impossible to catch. I’ve thought about shooting him a million times, but every time I do, the image of my sister, Sophia, splayed out naked in the middle of the desert, food for the vultures, flashes through my mind, and I can’t do it. It’s not enough. Especially now that I know Armando killed her.
The van swerves into the shoulder, and I yank it back to the road. My thoughts linger on the girls in the back. It’s almost time to stop and give them some water.
What do I do? Is this the fate Sophia faced? If so, how did she end up with Julio? Torturing Julio didn’t give me all the information I needed. He just kept repeating her name until the reaper finally claimed him.
Death wasn’t the future Sophia envisioned when she went to college. These girls have dreams, too. By transporting them, I am essentially stealing every hope they might have for their future.
The headache pounding at the base of my skull makes it tough to think. Maybe food will help. I unzip the bag in the passenger seat to grab a power bar, and a long, thin case catches my eye.
My foot slips off the pedal, and the van slows.
Would it work? What if they scanned them?
I stop the van and shoot off a text to my tech contact.
A minute later, she replies.If they scan them, they will find it. Add a decoy.
I dig through the bag and find the container with the extra microchips. One, two, three,… five. Ok. Now I just need to find a way to stick them to their bodies.
Bringing up Google maps on my phone, I type in a few keywords. Bingo. An hour from the drop-off point in Ciudad Victoria is a Walmart.
Shuffling noises come from the back of the van. Surprised, I glance at my watch and see it’s been three hours. My eyes scan the horizon, finding nothing but stubby trees, brush, and the nearby mountains. Bringing up maps again, I zoom in until I can see the area around us. There’s a small turnoff two miles ahead.
Minutes later, the van is parked between a group of trees and I’m heading to the back. When I open the doors, terror-filled eyes meet mine. The girls try to move away from me, but it’s impossible. Their feet are tied, and they’re handcuffed to the bed of the van.
Dark brown eyes, so similar to Sophia’s, draw my attention. She’s about the same size as her too. They could have been sisters. The thought is like a shard of glass in my heart.
I leave her feet tied together but release the handcuff and motion for her to get out. When she’s standing beside me, I shut the doors and flick a hand behind us.
Her bewildered gaze takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. “Where am I?”
“Mexico,” I tell her. “Go to the bathroom.” I point to the nearest tree. “Don’t try anything or I’ll shoot you. Trust me, this isn’t the place you want to die.”
Tears roll down her cheeks when she looks around the desolate area, but she finally shuffles over and squats down. When she’s finished, I can see her mind catching up with her new reality.
“Here. Drink some water. It will flush the drug out of your system,” I tell her. My hand holds out the bottle of water, but she just shakes her head.
Smart girl. “Suit yourself,” I reply with a shrug. Taking off the cap, I raise the bottle and pretend to drink. “We’ve got a few hours to go.” With a twirl of the gun, I motion for her to head back to the van.
She sways several times. Her eyes dart uncertainly to the water in my hand. For a few minutes, she weighs the two options. Drink or don’t drink. A few minutes later, a shaking hand reaches out to take the water from me. She takes one sip and lowers the bottle. When nothing happens, she gulps down the rest.
I open the rear doors, make her lie down and cuff her to the floor again. One down, four to go. I motion to the blond next to her.
