Page 85 of Our Tricks

Cargo planes were a shit way to travel after the last few trips being in a private jet. The hold was freezing, but I was wrapped up in a blanket in Void’s lap, trying to catch a few more Z’s. Everything this morning had been so blurry as we got woken up, shoved into the back of a van, then loaded up on the cargo plane. The only good thing was I finally got to see my tank in person.

Billy, the pilot, had been the one to bring it all the way from Russia to me. Now he was lugging it to Mexico along with all the other supplies François got for us. If I cracked open an eye, I could see my new toy strapped down to the plane’s floor. It had a tan tarp over it, but in reality, it was a hard shape to disguise.

While we’d been planning this part of the mission on the down-low, the triplets had been coordinating with Billy. He was a good friend of theirs, and I’d worked with him a few times. Corbin used his CIA magic to get us flying into Guadalajara without showing up on any flight plans. We were ghosts, so to speak. Once we got to our destination, we’d deal with Martin, check in with our people getting into position, then we’d fly out closer to Marco’s hideout.

Everything after that Corbin knew nothing about other than we’d be dropping in to pay Marco a visit once we knew he was there. No matter how hard the man tried, we weren’t willing to give up anything. They knew enough to make whatever judgment calls they needed to, but in the end, they were simply going to have to suck it up.

“Please be advised we are in our final descent. Make sure everything is strapped down, and you’re in the brace position,” Billy said over the speakers.

Cargo planes weren’t really meant to shuttle people around, so there were only ten actual seats. The rest of us had to strap in and kiss our asses goodbye as we landed. Jaxson and Magnus assured us that Billy was a good pilot and there was nothing to worry about.

Crawling out of Void’s lap, I hooked my arms into the harness straps attached to the wall by the strap brackets. The sound of the landing gear could be heard, and Wes appeared on my other side, cutting it close since he had to stow away what he’d been working on.

“Here we go,” Ghost yelled seconds before the wheels hit the tarmac with a bounce then made true contact on the second touchdown.

I slammed into Void as the plane slowed, pitching us forward. Then it was over, and we were taxing down the runway like it was any other flight.

Undoing the straps, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my new phone. I’d made the CIA foot the bill for buying it since it was specifically designed to be untraceable. Wes had tried to explain the technical mumbo-jumbo, but I zoned out after a minute.

Frowning, I saw a message from Alvaro. Clicking on it, I started to swear as I read the message. It took me a minute to figure it out since it was all kinds of jumbled, but now it made sense.

Alvaro: No agent mom not in protection Martin here private plane. Coming early taking us now.

“Fuck.” I snapped. “We shouldn’t have left him. He should never have had to do that part on his own. Motherfucking son of a bitch,” I yelled, drawing everyone’s attention.

Looking at the time stamp, it had been sent at five thirty. He wasn’t supposed to be leaving until eight, allowing us to have a head start. Now, who the fuck knows where Martin’s will fly into since there were tons of small airstrips drug runners used all the time. Pulling up my other messages, I could have sobbed in relief to see that the cruise ship had made better time than they thought, and the first two teams were here in Mexico.

Mutt and Gator hadn’t checked in yet, but I knew that would happen in a few hours. It wasn’t too far from one port to another, and they were collecting all the new passengers in Lázaro Cárdenas. Everything about this plan had to move up, and while it wasn’t what we planned, it would certainly be a surprise. In each step of this, we kept saying unpredictability would be the key. Well, it certainly was unpredictable now.

“Dax, what’s wrong?” Cam asked once I’d calmed down enough I wasn’t just uttering all the swear words I knew.

“Martin has Alvaro and Mariana,” I stated. “Seems he arrived in a private jet to collect them three and a half hours early. Now we have no fucking clue where they are.”

Corbin walked over to us, but he didn’t look at all surprised to hear what I’d told him. “That’s not exactly true. I outfitted Alvaro and Mariana each with a tracker that can’t be detected if they’re scanned. The plan you came up with had too many variables, and we needed to get Martin no matter what. Even if we take out Marco, if his heir is left behind, then we’ve accomplished nothing.”

“You bastard,” I screamed and lunged for him, but Cognac grabbed me and hauled me back against his chest.

“Easy, loba. I understand your anger, but it won’t help either of them. If he has a tracker, then we just need to use it to locate them,” he whispered in my ear. “Once we have them, then we go through with the plan of cutting them out completely.”

Everything in me wanted to argue with what he was saying, but Cognac was right. We needed to know where they were, and Corbin was enough of a bastard not to share if he thought we would cause trouble.

“Find them,” I said through clenched teeth. “Use your locator and fucking find them. We have no idea how long they’ll let either of them live if they figure out they’ve talked.”

Corbin signaled to one of his men, and they brought over a military laptop with satellite capabilities that could be used anywhere in the world. Typing in multiple passwords, he pulled up a program, hit a few buttons, and a progress bar showed up, downloading the information.

“Where did you put the tracker?” Magnus asked.

“They were placed in the back of their neck in their hairline to cover the mark,” Corbin said.

Rage flooded my body at the thought of him cornering Alvaro and forcing him to submit to the tracker. Not to mention how fucking terrified Mariana must be right now. The last thing she wanted was to be brought back here. She’d much prefer death than to be at the mercy of her brother.

“Hmm…” Corbin frowned. “Seems we only have the tracker for Mariana working at the moment. Seems she’s on the move, possibly headed for La Garita, her hometown.”

“What would be the reasoning that Alvaro’s won’t show?” Sprocket demanded.

“Possibly he could still be in the air, that elevation sometimes causes issues. Otherwise, a strong enough bolt of electricity could short-circuit the device along with having been removed and crushed,” Corbin explained.

“Those are our two options?” I snarled. “He’s either already been tortured or the trackers have been discovered so they torture him before killing him. Wow, both of these options seem like such winners. Hope you’re pleased with yourself.”