Eyes open.
Scan. Observe.
Move like the wolf in the night…
Then I see him.
One of the cartel generals—a stocky man with a scarred face and the look of a natural born killer—stands near the open warehouse doors, surrounded by at least a dozen armed men. They are loading crates onto a truck, laughing and smoking as if they own the night.
My blood runs hot.
I pull out my phone and send a quick message to Viktor:
KIRILL: Docks location. Identified one of their generals. I’m striking now. Take him out and the cartel may retreat. Now or never.
Viktor fires back a message that leaves no room for interpretation…
VIKTOR: Send him to hell.
I signal my men. We move in stealthily at first, using the maze of containers for cover. Two of my soldiers take out the outer sentries with silenced shots—clean, quiet kills.
We get within thirty yards before one of the cartel men spots movement.
“Advance!” I roar, my heart thumping and adrenaline coursing over my body.
Shouts erupt. Gunfire explodes across the docks.
The night turns into blood-splattered chaos.
Bullets ricochet off metal containers with sharp metallic pings. My men return fire, advancing in disciplined bursts while I push forward, pistol in hand. I drop two cartel soldiers with precise shots to the chest, then dive behind a stack of pallets as return fire tears through the wood above my head.
“Flank them!” I shout. “Push!”
My soldiers split, half laying down suppressing fire while the others move to the sides. The cartel general barks orders in rapid Spanish, trying to rally his men.
I catch a glimpse of him retreating toward the water’s edge, where several powerboats are tied up.
Not today.
I break cover and sprint forward, firing as I run, signaling for a soldier to run with me. A bullet grazes my left arm, burning like fire, but I don’t slow.
One of my soldiers takes a hit to the shoulder but keeps fighting. We press the advantage, dropping more of their men until the general and two of his bodyguards reach the boats.
He jumps into the nearest powerboat. The engine roars to life.
I curse and sprint toward another boat tied nearby. One of my most trusted lieutenants is right behind me.
“Cover me!” I yell.
He lays down fire as I leap into the boat, hot-wire the ignition with practiced speed, and gun the throttle. The powerboat surges forward, cutting through the dark water like a blade. The cartel general’s boat is already racing away, heading toward open water.
The chase ison.
Wind whips my face. Spray flies over the bow. I steer with one hand while firing with the other. Shots ring out from the general’s boat, his bodyguards returning fire.
A bullet shatters part of my windshield.
Another punches through the side of the hull.
