We’ve got company.
One of them reacted quickly, firing off a shot that barely missed Gabriel. “Motherfucker,” he snarled, immediately returning the favor. Only he managed to cut the man down by his knee. A howl of agony erupted as he dropped to his knees.
“¿Quiénes carajos son estos gilipollas?”
Who the hell are these assholes?
The shout of another confirmed what I’d hoped would happen. They had no clue who we were. I wanted to keep it that way. For now.
When I advanced, issuing a hard jab to one sending him crashing into a group of empty crates, the other two thought they could start firing indiscriminately.
“Hey, assholes,” one of our companions said from behind. “We’ve got you.”
I was impressed at least two of the men had been trained in the art of submission, soldier style. They strongarmed the two soldiers by the neck, squeezing until they blacked out.
That made the one who’d regained his footing and decided to take me on personally give it all he had. He managed to get in a brutal punch to my jaw before I punched him in the throat and took a step back, swinging my weapon against the side of his head.
He went down, his head hitting the pavement with a savage crack. “Well, fuck.” I obviously didn’t know my own strength. Crouching down, I checked to see if he was breathing. He was, but he’d have a massive headache in the morning.
If Delgado allowed him to live. He didn’t tolerate failure.
“That was fun,” Kendrick said as he shook his hand, flexing and fisting it.
I half laughed. “A little injury there, buddy?”
“Nothing a tall glass of scotch won’t cure. Are we heading inside?”
“Yeah. We need to see exactly what we’re dealing with.” I turned toward Gabriel. “You’re certain you can wire the front portion of the building, Mr. Explosives Expert?”
“Trust me.”
“Mmm… Said the spider to the fly.” If what the informant had said proved correct, the drugs were in the back of the building.
Gabriel grabbed my arm as he’d done thirty minutes before. I was still on edge. Still enraged. But at least we had a better understanding of what bad thing Bruno had done. He’d been the one to supply the Undertaker with Valentina’s personal information long before any leak provided by Steven.
“Have you calmed down?”
I wasn’t certain if the question was rhetorical. “Enough to get this done.”
“I know you want to go after the Undertaker yourself, but you know we don’t have what it takes to fight an army. At least not yet. Let Chase do his job.”
“We shall see. Let’s get this over with.”
We gathered the enemies’ weapons before heading inside the warehouse, leaving three men with Gabriel to ensure we weren’t interrupted. The stench of raw fish was overbearing, but it also made for a perfect cover. No one who walked inside would dare believe what was being stored behind the massive freezers.
In fact, to the naked eye, no one would know there was another part of the building. It took way too long to find the hidden enclosure. But as soon as I did, lights flooded the massive room.
As hoped, there were at least two dozen oversized crates. If that wasn’t telling enough, a portion of the room set up like a science laboratory told the tale. They used this warehouse for cutting and packaging the drugs for resale. Kendrick was in charge of taking photographs while Maverick and I moved to the crates.
We simply needed some proof.
He found a crowbar, managing to pry one open before I could. “Let’s see what we have here,” he mused. He was holding a brick of coke in his hands, packaged exactly as expected.
I tossed him my knife, walking closer as he cut a slit in the packaging, wetting and shoving his pinky into the powder. After sniffing, he shoved it into his mouth, nodding immediately.
“Pure rock, baby. Grade A good shit.”
“Someday you might need to tell me how you know so much about grade A coke.”
