Page 21 of Lethal Vengeance
She freezes. “Did you get any additional details?”
“Speculation is rampant, possibly a visit from one of the cartel leaders. Looks like Armando is looking to move up in the world.” His keen eyes watch her face harden when he delivers the news.
“You’re right. We need to move the timetable up. Do we have enough surveillance, or are there holes?” She directs her question to me.
I lift the bottle to my lips and take a deep drink of my beer while I consider her question. “We’re close. I’d be more comfortable with at least one more day. If the guard rotation and numbers stay the same, we can move. Although, I’d like video footage of the path inside.” Several heads nod in agreement.
Raider stands with his empty paper plate in his hand. “I’ll get the video tomorrow.” After dropping it in the trash, he leaves the room.
“Cruz, I need you to get intel on the security cameras and guard rotations. I’ve got most of them, but there are a few blank spots I’m not comfortable with right now,” Sterling announces, which is followed by a yawn. “I’ll send them to you after we finish here.”
“I need to regroup with Armando tomorrow and give him a deb… an update,” Quinn states, almost tripping over her correction.
“You were going to say ‘debrief,’ weren’t you?” I challenge her. “It almost sounds like you served.” My hand flies up to stop her from lying. “I’m not asking you to share your secrets. We all have pasts. But you’re meeting with him tomorrow, and you need to be aware of your language. You don’t want to slip up.”
Her eyes widen with surprise. She opens her mouth to speak but is stopped again when Raider places a jar on the table beside her. Her eyes dart to his in question.
He lightly taps her wrist. “Put it on the bruises, especially the ones on your neck and arm. Rub it in and let it sit all night. It will help with the pain.”
Her hand slowly reaches out and picks up the jar. “Thank you, Raider.”
He returns to his seat beside me, his eyes never leaving hers.
She stares at the jar in her hand.
Without looking up, she addresses my comment. “A long time ago, when I was somebody else, I believed a world existed where justice prevailed over evil. I was absolutely sure if I fought hard enough, followed all the rules, and stayed on the right side of the path, I would make a difference. And I did. For a long time. Until the very thing I was protecting was taken from me, murdered, and dumped like trash in the desert.”
Her laugh is hollow and dry. “Turns out, nobody speaks to the law-abiding ones seeking answers, but they sure as hell speak to those seeking vengeance. Thank you for dinner. If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired.” Shoulders back, head held high, she stands and walks out the door.
10
QUINN
It’s pure magic. The concoction in the jar eased the worst of the pain. My neck and wrists are still sore but functioning considerably better than I expected. I rub my chest. If only it worked on the wounds inside. Last night’s discussion hurt. Maybe because I haven’t thought about my old self in a long time. When you’re alone, you don’t have to remember.
Rules. Law enforcement. Following in my dad’s footsteps. The pillars of my foundation growing up. I couldn’t imagine anything derailing me from the path of straight and narrow. Not once did I ever imagine I’d abandon everything I was to become the person standing in front of the mirror right now. The one preparing for a meeting with a member of the cartel, not to take them down or arrest them, but to earn their favor.
Dressed in leggings and a tank top for “yoga,” I frown at the bruises in my reflection. Turning back to the closet, I grab a lightweight jacket with a short, standup collar and slip it on. No bruises. Perfect. With my colorful neck covered, and my knife in its hidden pocket, I head out the door.
The park is packed with people and animals, all of them reveling in the sunshine on this beautiful Saturday. I escape their happy faces to sit beside him on our bench.
Our bench.I silently snort. Maybe after all this is done, I’ll rip the bench from its bolts and throw it in the damn lake. If I survive, of course.
His expensive cologne makes my nose twitch. “Good morning,” I murmur, remembering to show my manners.
“It is, isn’t it?” he says warmly. “Tell me you’re not going to ruin my good mood.”
“We’ll get the girls out in the next couple of days. We’re just finishing up some last-minute details,” I inform him, relieved to be able to pass on the news. “We originally thought to use the tunnels, but they’re full of gang members.” I casually throw in the info, wondering what he’ll say. “We came up with an alternative plan.”
Tension fills the brief space between us. “It’s probably for the best. The gang is notoriously brutal. I’ve tried speaking to them, but they do as they wish, running rampant in certain areas of the city.”
“Yes, my source said the same. It’s fine. There are many ways to get to our destination,” I state briskly, dropping the conversation. He’s using the tunnels.
He looks away. “Is there anything else?”
“Rodrigo. If you don’t find somewhere else for him to go the next few days, we won’t be able to complete the rescue. Apparently, I’m his newest obsession. And with his ties to the… group, I doubt you want me to get rid of him,” I state, my voice cold.
“If only we could,” he murmurs.
