“We should split up,” Xander suggested. “Cover more ground. We’re running out of time.”
“Roger that,” Corey responded.
Right as Corey turned away, Xander reached out, grabbed the former SEAL’s arm and squeezed. He felt bad for leaving in the middle of a mission to save the woman Corey loved, and, in the back of his mind, Xander knew he might never see his friend again.
“Good luck finding your woman.” Xander’s lips tipped up in a half smirk, and Corey frowned. “Maybe I’ll see you in another life.” Then he plucked the comms out of his ear and charged down the hallway.
“Hawke!”
But he didn’t stop. Xander Hawke was a man on a mission. He just hoped it wasn’t a suicide mission.
Xander intended to get caught by the enemy. Was it the best plan he’d ever concocted? Probably not. But if it took him straight into Barrera’s lair, it would be the best goddamn idea he’d ever fucking had.
Finding a back staircase, he tossed his earpiece and flew down the steps into another smoke-filled hallway. He needed some clean air before he passed out from smoke inhalation. Shoving through the nearest door, he hurriedly closed it and looked around the new space. A crucifix hung on the wall and a small altar stood in the far corner. Candles, framed pictures—probably of deceased family members—and other religious trinkets covered it. He highly doubted Barrera ever stepped foot inside the room of prayer and worship. In fact, he probably would’ve burst into flames if he tried.
Calling José Barrera evil was putting it lightly. The man was the devil incarnate. And Xander was ready to exorcise his ass and send him straight back to hell.
As he jogged past the crucifix, he lifted his hand, laying it over the cross he wore around his neck. It had belonged to his sister, and he hadn’t taken it off since the day he got it three years ago. He pulled his gloves off, reached around and unclasped it. Then he opened the window and climbed out.
Xander’s boots hit the ground with a thunk and he hustled forward. The tall, wrought iron fence surrounding the property was covered in a tangle of passion flowers. He hung the necklace on one of the unique blooms, hoping his team would find it. A message, letting them know he’d gotten out.
The sound of rapid-fire Spanish filled the air. He’d always been good at languages and had learned ten while in the CIA. From their conversation, Xander knew the men coming around the corner belonged to the Lazaro Cartel. Exactly what he wanted.
Time to get captured.
The moment they saw him, they lifted their guns, while Xander lifted his hands in surrender.
“Take me to see José Barrera,” Xander said in flawless Spanish.
Surprise flickered over their faces before they burst into laughter.
“Or how about we just kill you instead?” the man covered in black ink said.
“I have information he wants.”
“What information?” the tatted man scoffed.
“I know who killed Fernando Lazaro,” Xander said in a lethal voice. “And he’s coming for your boss next.”
The men exchanged looks as Barrera’s mansion burned behind them. The sound of a helicopter flying away from the inferno caught Xander’s attention. He hoped to God his friends had made it out of there. Hoped Corey found Sera and they’d made it back to the others. But he knew it could also be Barrera making his escape like he always managed to do right before Xander found him.
“C’mon!” The thug in charge ordered one of the men to secure Xander’s wrists in zip ties. When the man secured his hands in front, Xander tried not to smile.Rookie mistake.Then theyhustled him through the gate, away from the smoke and flames, and made a call to Barrera himself.
After conferring for a hot minute, the decision was apparently made to bring Xander along. They hurriedly patted him down for any weapons, conveniently missing the switchblade tucked in his boot.Sloppy.But with a rival cartel still possibly roaming the property, there wasn’t time to dick around and do a full body cavity search. And that worked in his favor.
Barrera’s men escorted Xander to a van and loaded him into the back. There were no windows or seats—in fact, the entire thing had been stripped down to the metal floor—so he sat down, wedging his shoulder against one side for balance. He drew a leg up, making sure to keep his bound hands close to his knife without drawing suspicion.
Several other narcos climbed inside, eyeing him with wariness, contempt or a combination of both. These guys all screamed green, low-level foot soldiers. He could be on them before they even knew what happened. And Xander itched to yank his blade out and slit every single one of their throats.
Patience, Hawke.That honor would be saved for José Barrera.
After an extremely long, hot and bumpy ride across what had to be multiple states, Xander perked up when the van seemed to alter its course then slow down. Thirteen hours of bouncing around in the vehicle’s stifling back without anything to eat or drink had sucked. He was hot, dusty and damn thirsty. Hunchedover, knees drawn up, his bound hands laid against his boots, always within reach of his blade. The zip ties cut into his wrists and his ass hurt from sitting on the hard floor.
But he was closing in on his prey. That was worth any pain and discomfort.
Although he couldn’t be absolutely sure, a few quick glimpses out the front windshield made him think they were back in Tierra Caliente. Where exactly, he didn’t know. But as long as it was wherever Barrera was, he didn’t really care. He was ready to end the man who’d murdered his baby sister. Vengeance would finally be his.
While the soldiers talked and prepared to exit the van, Xander surreptitiously slid two fingers inside his boot, deftly plucked out the switchblade and hid it between his palms. The van’s back door opened, and he staggered out with the others, his cramped legs and angry knees letting him know they were not amused. Looking around, he expected to see another mansion or a compound. Instead, all he saw were trees, a couple more vans and soaring mountains in the distance.
