This was a game changer of epic proportions. “Are you absolutely sure she’s with the Diablos?” I asked.
Undertaker nodded. “I have a contact at the border check. He confirmed that a girl matching Sarah’s description was taken into Juarez yesterday morning.”
Ghost took out another photograph and slid it across the table. “We received this photo earlier this afternoon.”
Once again, Sarah’s black and white image appeared before me. But this photo showed a shadow of the girl who had been talking and laughing in the other photo. Her eyes were cast down to her lap where her hands were clasped. Even through the photograph, her fear was palpable.
“But I thought the cartels were trafficking girls out of Mexico, not into it?” Bishop asked.
“This is the part you’re not going to like,” Ghost answered.
I grunted before telling him, “There’s not one fucking thing about any of this that I like.”
Ghost nodded at Chulo.
“It appears that upper class white girls have become a growing commodity with high ranking cartel members. The Diablo’s El Paso chapter has been targeting college bars and campuses. Somewhere outside of Juarez, they have a camp where they house the girls before selling them to the highest bidder,” Chulo said.
“Who owns the camp?” Bishop asked.
Chulo took a long swig of beer before replying. “Guy named Mendoza. He’s one of the Rodriguez cartels lugartenientes.” At Bishop’s and my blank expression, he winked. “That’s lieutenant for you gringos.”
I furrowed my brows in confusion. “Wait, so he’s one of their soldiers?”
Shaking his head, Chulo explained, “Being lugartenientes makes him the second highest position in the cartel. He supervises the lower levels like hitmen.”
With my mind whirling with questions, I couldn’t help asking, “So if he’s some second in command in the drug world, where does selling girls come into this?”
“Because of the recent crackdowns on the narcotic trade, human trafficking has become an easy way to supplement their income,” Chulo replied.
As I digested this new information about Sarah’s capture, I momentarily had to cradle my head in my hands. This was way beyond anything I had ever experienced as a club member, least of all as president. Not even Preacher Man or Case had ever come up against one of the cartels. They’d rationalized that the risks outweighed the benefits and steered clear of anything involving drugs.
“So we’re pretty much fucked, huh?” Bishop said beside me.
Raising my head, I shot a hard glare at Bishop. “Maybe for the moment, but we’re not letting Breakneck down.”
“Glad to hear you say that,” Undertaker replied.
I cut my gaze over to him. “What do you mean?”
With a wicked gleam burning in his eyes, Undertaker replied, “I mean, we’re going to help you guys go in and get your girl.”
I cocked my brows at him. “You’re serious?”
“Fuck yeah.”
Shaking my head, I replied, “While we appreciate it, we can’t ask you guys to do that.”
Chulo snorted. “And we’re not asking for your approval. Besides we have our own reasons.”
“He’s right,” Ghost said before I could argue any further.
“What reason could you all possibly have for going up against the Diablos and the Rodriguez cartel?” I countered.
Ghost eased back in seat. “For the last six months, the Diablos have been putting the heat on clubs throughout Texas and Louisiana to patch in with them.”
“I guess I can assume that you guys don’t want to patch in,” I said.
Ghost’s blue eyes narrowed at me. “We would die first before we wore any other patch but the Raiders.”
