“Thank you. Really, thank you so much. Tell him if he does this for me, if he leaves this whole thing alone, I’ll tell Jesse the truth. On my terms, in my way. I’ll tell him everything.”
“Okay.” Lucy walked Madison to the door, said something she didn’t quite remember, and closed it behind her.
On autopilot, Lucy walked to Sean’s office. She logged into his computer. Sean was super-security-conscious, but he gave Lucy all his access codes in case she needed “the best computer money can buy,” as he said.
She didn’t need his computer, except for the fact that all the research he’d done on Carson and Madison Spade would be here.
She didn’t need to look far. All she needed was to look at the photograph of Jesse Spade to know that he was Sean’s son.
* * *
Jesse was up early. Well, maybe because he didn’t really sleep much last night. When he was certain his dad was asleep, he snuck into his room and grabbed his cell phone. He tried to call his mom, but the call wouldn’t go through. Jesse didn’t know why—just that cellular service was unavailable. Then he went downstairs in search of a landline, and couldn’t find one. He knew there was one in Dominick’s office, but the door was locked. Jesse thought that he might be able to break in, but he was too scared. So he went back upstairs and lay in bed until the sun was up. He might have slept a bit, but when he woke, he was still tired.
His dad was sleeping and the house was quiet. He went swimming, but not for long. Antsy, he returned to his suite and took a shower and played his DS because he didn’t have anything else to do. As soon as his dad woke up, he said, “Can I call Mom?”
“Maybe later.”
“Can we leave today?”
“I said we might be able to—I have to go to town and set up a new bank account for business. If everything goes well, probably tomorrow. Friday at the latest. Like I said.”
“I really miss Mom.”
“I talked to her last night, when you were sleeping. She didn’t want me to wake you up. You know, she is a little angry with me because you’re missing so much school, but she can’t wait to hear about the football game. That was fun, right?”
“Yeah.” It had been the best night since they’d been here, until those two men grabbed him and tried to tell him his dad was some sort of criminal. “If you talk to her tonight, would you wake me up?”
His dad smiled and ruffled his hair. “Of course. I would have woken you up last night if I knew it was so important to you.”
“Can we go do something after you go to the bank? Maybe I can go with you and check out the museum, they have a reptile exhibit—”
“No, this is business, Jesse, you need to stay here where it’s safe. I can’t keep an eye on you if I’m working with the bank to set up a complex business account.”
“I’m twelve, Dad. I don’t need to be babysat all the time. I just want to—”
“No,” he said. “Jesus, Jess, let it go. We’re not in Redondo Beach, California—we’re in the middle of Mexico. It’s not safe for Americans to just wander around.”
“I wouldn’t be wandering, just—”
“No.”
“Fine.” Jesse walked to his bedroom and slammed the door. He was so bored. And a little scared. Because his dad was acting weird, and Jesse didn’t like all these guys with guns everywhere, and he thought for certain that Gabriella had seen that guy with the scar on his neck grab him and she didn’t say anything … what was his name?
Kane.
The guy Sean called him Kane. Who were they? Why had they tried to get him to go with them? Kidnappers? But if they were kidnappers who wanted to ransom him like his dad was afraid of, wouldn’t they have like maybe knocked him out and carried him out of the stadium? Or drugged him or something? Why try to talk to him about coming with them? And they sounded American.
It was weird, and Jesse really wanted to talk to his mom.
Maybe Gabriella would let him use her phone.
He fell back onto his bed and looked at the clock. It was still early, not even eight in the morning. Gabriella never got up early, but Jesse knew she’d be around later. He’d wait.
It wasn’t like he was going anywhere.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kane left camp before dawn.
Neither he nor Sean had slept well, but now that they’d confirmed Jesse was at the Flores compound, there were really only two options. First—convince Gabriella to let them inside. The chance of that was slim to none. Revenge that had been percolating for ten years wouldn’t be set aside for anyone, and especially not for a Rogan.
Which left the second option. One that Sean would never agree to, so Kane needed backup not only to protect him, but to protect his little brother. The risk was great, but Kane had mentally worked through all scenarios, and this was the only one that had a chance.
If Carson Spade was really as deep into the Flores cartel as Kane thought, Dominick wouldn’t let him just walk away. He’d require something … an action from which there would be no turning back. Kane had seen it before, and because Jesse was here, it would involve Spade’s son. Jesse might be allowed back to the States … he might return home unharmed … but he could become part of something from which there was no return.
Years ago, Kane had witnessed the brutal slaying of a traitor to one of the cartels. He couldn’t have stopped it if he wanted to—he was deep cover, and if he exposed himself, far more people would have died. But the traitor was tortured and killed in front of his own teenage daughter, who had been so traumatized that she committed suicide months later.
Kane couldn’t care less about Carson Spade. He was a grown man who had made the wrong choice; whatever the consequences, death or prison, Kane didn’t concern himself with it. Jesse was innocent. A child.
Sean’s son.
Kane would not allow the kid to become lost, to be forced to witness violence, to live in danger his entire life. He would not allow Jesse to become one of them, because he knew how easy it was to turn a boy. He’d seen that, too. The flip side of violence was the rewards it brought. The money. The toys. And when he was older, the women. The power that the cartels had could be heady to someone who wasn’t raised to discern good from evil.
His nephew would not become one of them if Kane had a breath left in his body.
The Flores cartel had its fingers in many pies, which was what made them particularly dangerous. If one route or supply was cut off, they had a dozen more to pick up the slack.
Dominick Flores had been the leader of the family ever since his father died. Murdered, on the vote of his own sons Kane had once heard, back when he and Dante were on better terms. Dom’s brother Samuel was far more dangerous—he enjoyed violence. He was the one who had killed Gabriella’s fiancé. Tortured and murdered him.
Gabriella had found his butchered body. If it weren’t for Jack Kincaid, she would also be dead.
She’d changed since then, as violence often changed those it touched. Not that the Romeros were pacifists or innocent, but after her fiancé was murdered, the rules of the game changed for them. Kane understood far too well.
Kane hadn’t told Sean that he was on the Flores cartel radar because Sean would have sent him away. And Kane could hardly leave now. The cartel wanted Kane’s head on a platter, and he was going to give it to them. He just had to convince Gabriella Romero that it would benefit her—and her brother—to take revenge in a different way, and perhaps sooner than she’d planned.
Not him. Gabriella wouldn’t listen to him. But there was one person she would listen to.
Jack Kincaid.
Jack rarely took jobs south of the border since he was now married to a fed, but he had a unique skill set and the near two decades he’d spent in the Army came in handy.
And he knew Gabriella very well.
Kane called him from a secure sat phone once he was out of Sean’s earshot.
“Kincaid.”
“It’s Kane. How fast can you get to
Guadalajara?”
“Six and a half hours.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“They all are. You have a plan.”
“Working on it.”
Jack didn’t say anything for a long minute. “Who else do you have down there?”
“No one. Blitz, Ranger, and their team are in Honduras. They can’t be reached.”
“Is this about the kid?”
“Yes. Sean sent everything he uncovered to Jaye—read it on the fly.”
“And he’s worth risking your lives?”
That was always the question—was an operation worth the risk, because every time they engaged, they could be killed or captured.
“Yes,” Kane said without hesitation. “Look at the file. You’ll know why.” He wasn’t going to spill Sean’s secret about Jesse, but Jack had to understand the emotional component.
“We need a team.”
Kane didn’t want more than he’d counted on, but Jack would do what he felt best, always. And Kane trusted his instincts. “Small and elite. Gabriella is here.”
“Well, fuck.”
“I’m going to talk to her, but you know what she has planned.”
“Ten years. Ten fucking years, Kane.”
He didn’t say anything. Ten years wasn’t that long when someone killed the person you loved.
Siobhan had told him three months ago that she loved him. He replayed that moment every night, every time he closed his eyes. She thought he’d shut her out because he didn’t want his life to taint her. That wasn’t it.
He could never love her, never call her his own, because when she got killed—and in his line of work, that was almost a certainty—he would become Gabriella. He would hunt down those responsible and slaughter them. Without hesitation. Without remorse.
In fact, he admired Gabriella as much as he was frustrated with her. She’d waited ten years for her revenge. Patience. Kane would slash and burn until he was gunned down, and then he would thank the God he didn’t believe in that it was finally over.
Kane said, “I will talk to her, but I may need you to convince her.”
“Understood. Are you camped at our primary airstrip?”
“Yes.”
“Six and a half hours.” Jack disconnected.
Of course Jack knew Gabriella. It had been his soldier who’d fallen in love with her, his soldier who had proposed to her, and his soldier who’d been tortured and killed by Samuel Flores, one of the psycho brothers. Jack had talked her down once before, but after this long, Kane didn’t think Gabriella would listen to anyone. He didn’t blame her—but when his nephew and his brother both had their lives at stake, he had to make her listen.
Unless, of course, she got exactly what she wanted: Samuel Flores’s head on a platter.
And Kane had to figure out a way to do it without Gabriella taking the credit … and no RCK fingerprints. RCK didn’t do assassinations, it’s what kept them off the cartel’s most wanted list. Certainly they had caused enough problems over the years that the cartels would kill anyone affiliated if they had an opportunity, but until Tobias Hunt had put a price tag on his head, Kane had been able to work relatively anonymously over the years.
Kane reached the jeep he’d hidden far on the edge of the airstrip. He pushed off the fallen branches and drove into town.
His cell phone rang. It was Gabriella. He’d ignored her first three calls last night.
“The audacity,” Gabriella said in her exotic accent.
“Meet me in thirty minutes. You know where.”
“No.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Do I care?”
“Your brother will.”
“Dante understands.”
“I can get you what you want and you can walk away.”
“I will see this through. Why are you even here? What do you want with Jesse Spade? None of this is your concern.”
“I will tell you why when you meet with me. You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing, Rogan.”
He didn’t say anything. She knew exactly what she owed him.
“No promises.” She hung up.
* * *
Before Kane left that morning, he’d told Sean to write a letter to Jesse—a short note that explained everything. Sean did it, but it hardly seemed adequate. Kane was standing over him. What could he say? How could he say it? Why write it? It was like trying to tell Lucy over the phone that Jesse was his kid … he couldn’t.
But he did it because Kane said Jesse needed to be on board with them or they would all be killed. Sean understood, but that didn’t make it much better.
Now that he was alone—for how long, he didn’t know—Sean booted up his computer and started digging through everything Jaye at RCK had found on Carson Spade, his law firm, and his connections to the Flores cartel. Jaye was good—very methodical. Sean worked more intuitively, and had several questions, namely, Why now? What happened to bring Spade to Mexico now?
Laundering money was both easy and complex. The hard part was setting up the process—layers of bank accounts, shell corporations, moving money from legitimate businesses into shady accounts and finally into the hands of the bad guys. Cartels employed some of the best accountants and lawyers in the business—those with a serious lack of morals—to build the network. Once established, a good network would run seamlessly.
It seemed that Carson Spade had been the lawyer who set up the entire network for the Flores cartel several years ago—based on the dates of the corporations Jaye had identified. His bank and travel records showed only one trip to Mexico a year—likely required by Flores to ensure that Spade was still in his back pocket. Perhaps to handle new business or incorporate a new illegal activity. But this was Spade’s third trip to Mexico this year—definitely out of character.
A message from Jaye popped up on his computer.
Jaye: You there?
Sean: Yep.
Jaye: Something weird just happened.
Sean: You’re up at dawn?
Jaye: Ha ha. I sent a worm out to gather real-time info on each of the identified corps and three were shut down at the end of business yesterday.
Sean: Shut down how? Money transferred?
Jaye: No money transfers, all shell corps. Closed. The info was posted at midnight ET.
Sean: Influx of cash to Spade?
Jaye: None yet. I’m going to expand the worm, but I suspect they’re all being axed. Just closed.
Sean: Why? Did it happen yesterday?
Jaye: No idea why, and they could have been shut down anytime in the last few days. Not more than a week. They get posted pretty quick. I’ll send you what I learn.
Sean: You’re an angel.
Sean logged off and wondered what had happened to cause Spade to shut down his shell corps. The most logical reason would be money. These were hollow companies, though—they could let the companies ride and, if they were compromised, just start new ones. On and on. The only way to shut them down would be to completely sever them from the new enterprise. Or maybe there was something there that they wanted to hide.
Sean understood money laundering and finance, but nowhere near as well as he understood computer security and hacking. And he didn’t really care what Spade was doing at this point. Associating with Dominick Flores was sufficient for Sean to want his son away from here. After he got Jesse to safety, he would dig into Carson Spade with a magnifying glass and destroy him.
He looked at his watch. Damn, Kane had only been gone for an hour. He said it could take him all morning to set up his plan. A plan he didn’t fully explain to Sean. All Sean knew was that it depended on Gabriella getting a note to Jesse. Sean’s note. And if that didn’t happen, then they were back to square one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Siobhan stepped out of the hotel and almost immediately the security chief approached her. “May I summon your driver?”
“I’m just walking to Starbucks
. It’s only a few blocks.”
“It’s not a problem.”
Before she could argue with him, he was on his radio. Less than a minute later the driver pulled up. Did they have him sitting in his car waiting?
Still, Sean and Lucy had been more than generous in setting her up in this hotel, and she was pretty certain Kane had something to do with the security precautions.
When the driver dropped her off, she said, “I’m meeting a friend—you don’t have to stay.”
“It’s not a problem,” the driver said. Apparently, that was the motto of this security team.
“Thanks.” What else could she say?
She went inside the Starbucks. She was meeting Eric Barrow, her reporter friend. They’d been friends forever—since high school. He had some problems and could be a complete ass sometimes, but he was all about the truth. He was cynical and would believe the worst about anyone. When he got an idea in his head he would move heaven and earth to prove it, but so far, she’d never caught him printing a lie, and he’d never stabbed her in the back.
The same couldn’t be said of other people in Eric’s life, which was why Siobhan was probably one of Eric’s few friends.
Starbucks was on the corner of one of the most populated business areas of Laredo. Laredo was an old town, depressed; a third of the residents lived below the poverty level. But they still had a Starbucks, Siobhan thought wryly.
It was a treat for her. She even splurged and bought a pastry, something she hadn’t done in months. Andie led a simple life as well, but she had her luxuries—and Starbucks was one of them. Siobhan didn’t think her sister had gone a day without swinging by the drive-through on her way to Quantico, where she worked as the number two in charge of officer training. When Siobhan pointed out that Andie likely spent $150 a month at Starbucks—more if she added a pastry or sandwich to her triple lattes—Andie wasn’t amused.
“I spent thirty-two months in the fucking desert fighting to protect my right to have a goddamn Starbucks latte, and dammit, I’m going to have a goddamn Starbucks latte every fucking day until I die.”
The Lost Girls Page 21
