King's Reign (The Xander King Series Book 4)

by Bradley Wright

  Because her brother was a madman.

  11

  Sinaloa Soirée

  Xander’s G6 jet touched down in Sinaloa, Mexico. On the way in, the evening sun shed light on a coastal city. On one side, the deep blue waters of the Gulf of California, on the other, the town butted up to the foothills of the Sierra Madre Occidental mountain range. From the air, it seemed a beautiful place to live. From all that Xander had heard about it on the news, and from Sam’s intel, it could be at times quite the opposite for those who resided there. Unless of course you were one of the many drug lords who called Sinaloa home.

  Xander’s trusted pilot, Bob, lowered the stairs on the G6 with the push of a button. Jack wore his cowboy hat and his deep-purple King Stables polo shirt. Zhanna and Kyle did the same, sans the cowboy hat. They all needed to blend in with the team, and they definitely looked the part. After showing everyone all the new weapons and gadgets, Marv decided to stay behind on the yacht and set up his electronic office there. No one could blame him for that. Xander dressed the part as well. He needed to look like the rich man Romero expected to meet. He chose a lightweight navy sport coat, a white button-down shirt, matching navy-blue dress slacks, and a pair of tan leather oxfords. His suit was perfectly tailored to his six-foot-three-inch, 215-pound frame. “Athletic fit,” his tailor called it. And finally, Sam dazzled as the bourbon mogul’s girlfriend in her long white summer dress. Her long, dark hair fell down her back from underneath her matching white sun hat.

  “Damn, you are stunning,” Kyle said just before wrapping his arms around her and giving her a kiss.

  Xander moved in and shoved him into the seat to his right. Kyle looked up to find a smile on Xander’s face.

  “Keep your paws off my woman, asshole.” He laughed.

  They all shared in the laugh until Sam, being Sam, made sure everyone understood the stakes. She looked at Kyle. “There can be no more of that. We blow our cover and we’ll have to shoot our way out of here.” She immediately looked over at Xander and held out her hand. “And don’t you say it. I don’t care if you think that would be fun, we aren’t going to do it.”

  Kyle stood, a confused look on his face. “I thought that was exactly what we were coming down here to do.”

  Sam shook her head. “This is nothing more than to gather information. After we find proof that Romero is indeed trafficking these girls as we suspect, then we will return to make sure he no longer can.”

  “Borrring.” Xander gave Sam a wink.

  “Oh, shut it. You get to drink your bourbon and watch your horse race. And you get to have me on your arm. Others would kill to be in your shoes.”

  Xander looked down at his shoes. “They are nice shoes.”

  Sam made sure she didn’t smile, then motioned for everyone to exit the plane. The five of them descended the stairs into the warm evening air. A stretch limousine and a large Mexican man awaited them at the bottom.

  “I feel like we’re going to prom,” Xander whispered to Sam.

  “Prom? Is that yet another of your silly traditions? Sounds dreadful.”

  “It’s an excuse for teenagers to drink and talk their dates into handing over their virginity.”

  “Okay,” Sam said, smirking, “not so bad then.”

  The limo drove through a massive iron gate, then wound its way up another portion of the mountain that Romero’s mansion was tucked into. As they stepped out of the limo, a sprawling Spanish-style residence loomed before them, complete with the orange-red terra-cotta tile roof and the typical eggshell-colored stucco exterior walls. There were several soldiers dressed in all-black tactical gear surrounding the front entrance of the house. This was definitely a first in all of the dinner parties Xander had ever attended. The oversized oak front door opened, and out walked a stunning dark-haired beauty in a red dress, on the arm of a silver-haired older gentleman, who would most likely be classified as a stud. Though he was in a suit, it was clear that for a man near sixty that he was in damn good shape.

  “Mr. King. So good of you to come to Sinaloa.” The man walked down the steps with his woman. “This is my wife, Lola, and I apologize for what looks like an army here to greet you. But this is the life of a wealthy man here in Mexico.”

  “Apologies not necessary. Better safe than dead.” Xander smiled.

  “I like that.” Romero laughed.

  Xander took his hand and gave it a firm shake, kissed Lola’s hand and said hello, then introduced Sam as his girlfriend, Samantha. It was an odd thing for him to hear coming out of his own mouth.

  “You are very beautiful young lady. Mr. King is lucky to have you on his arm.”

  “That he is.” Sam offered her hand.

  Xander knew this whole charade was hard for Sam to swallow. She was about as far from a country club “how do you do?” wife as anyone could get.

  “Please, call me Xander. And this is my team, Zhanna, Kyle, and Jack.” He pointed to the three of them.

  “Nice to meet you all,” Romero said. “I look forward to seeing what your horse can do tomorrow afternoon, Xander. For now, would the three of you be so kind as to follow Juan to your quarters in the guesthouse? Dinner will be waiting for you there.”

  The team did as he asked and followed after Juan.

  Romero continued, “And, Lola, would you please show Samantha around the mansion. Hopefully she has a thing for artwork and the two of you can discuss. I’d like to have a drink and maybe a cigar with Xander in my study before dinner if that is all right with everyone?”

  Everyone agreed, and Xander and Sam followed their hosts into the mansion. The interior was as one would imagine, full of opulence and marble. Lots of marble. Sam and Lola split off to the opposite side of the mansion, and Xander followed Romero into his study. In reality, it was more of a library with a desk. Full of dark wood shelving, lined with stories that seemed to span a couple of thousand square feet. Romero went over to a decanter and poured a few fingers of bourbon into two crystal whiskey tumblers.

  “Neat?” Romero asked, making sure Xander was okay with his bourbon straight up.

  “Is there any other way?”

  “I was afraid I would have to ask you to leave prematurely if you said no.” Romero smiled.

  Xander didn’t want to, but he instantly liked Romero. He was charming, which was expected, but the way it seemed sincere was throwing Xander off a bit. The man was also a salesman by nature. Xander could tell this because the scent emanating from his glass was his own bourbon that Romero had poured for them.

  Touché.

  “You have good taste.”

  Romero reached his glass forward and clinked Xander’s. Then he raised the glass toward him, referencing the bourbon with his eyes. “As do you, my friend.”

  Romero then pulled two Davidoff Nicaragua Toro cigars from a small leather travel case that was tucked in the breast pocket of his khaki-colored sport coat.

  Now Xander had a full-on man crush.

  “So tell me, Xander, what is your favorite thing about life?”

  An odd question, but one Xander liked. He liked everything about this drug lord. What he didn’t like was the fact that even though it was early, he just couldn’t see Romero as the type to be involved in something like human trafficking. Sam would be kicking Xander in the ass for being wooed by the kingpin, but Xander would never let something like bourbon and a cigar interfere with something as serious as selling young women into slavery. Something wasn’t adding up.

  Romero took a puff of his cigar and looked at Xander expectantly.

  “Winning,” Xander finally answered.

  “Winning? I like this. Anything in particular?”

  Xander smiled. “Everything . . . in particular.”

  “Cheers to that. How did you get into horse racing?”

  “It’s in my blood, as is this bourbon. Kentucky is the most beautiful place in the world. Its culture seeps into your veins and becomes a part of you forever. No matter how far you try to run.
”

  Romero smiled. “You are very passionate man. I see a lot of myself in you.”

  A beep from Romero’s mahogany desk interrupted their conversation. Romero’s face scrunched in frustration. He walked over to the desk and picked up the receiver.

  “I told you, no interruptions.”

  A good thirty seconds went by. All that came out of Romero’s mouth as he listened were a few one-word questions. Xander could see that his demeanor had changed once he hung up the phone.

  “Everything all right?” Xander asked.

  Romero finished his bourbon in one drink, set down his glass, and placed his cigar on the ashtray. He followed that with a deep sigh.

  “I am not quite sure how to say this.”

  Uh oh.

  Xander finished his bourbon and set down his glass.

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I am afraid it is not.”

  Romero removed his sport coat, picked up a remote, and hit a button. On the wall, a painting turned into a television monitor.

  “What exactly am I looking at, Romero?”

  “That is at the foot of my property. Those men are the Sinaloa Cartel. Ever heard of them?”

  Xander gave a wry smile, then spread his arms wide.

  “You mean you didn’t come by all of these nice things honestly? Shame on you, Javier.”

  Romero smiled.

  “You are not frightened? This is in real time. In my line of work, sometimes, I’m afraid, you piss off some very vengeful people.”

  In front of them on the television screen, the night-vision camera showed a horde of men approaching the gate. All of them clearly armed.

  “Tell me about it.”

  Xander knew all too well what it was like to have some bad men with a lot of resources after you.

  “I ask you again, you are not frightened by this?”

  “Not unless you leave me standing here unarmed.”

  “You know how to handle a weapon?”

  “Come on, Romero,” Xander said. “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? I know you are a drug kingpin, and you know I used to be a Navy SEAL. We aren’t the type of men who don’t check into people’s backgrounds before we open ourselves up to them.”

  Romero nodded his head and began to roll up his sleeves.

  “I am very sorry that I have brought you into this. I have extra men at the mansion because there was a very slight chance there might be a threat. Please believe me when I tell you that if I thought this could actually happen, I would never have brought you here.”

  Xander did believe the man standing in front of him. But Xander had to know for sure about how deep it went before he could move on.

  “I need one question answered before shit gets real.” Xander nodded toward the security footage that now showed a gunfight at the gates.

  Romero nodded for him to continue.

  “I don’t care how you’ve made this money or how you live your life. I really don’t. With one exception.”

  “Go on.”

  “Do you traffic young women into America and sell them to the highest bidder?” Xander was blunt.

  Romero paused for a moment, then walked over to Xander.

  “This is why you are here? Not for horse race?”

  Xander looked back up at the screen where guns continued to flare on the black-and-white live feed.

  “Make no mistake, Romero, Heir to the Throne was going to smoke your horse tomorrow in that race. But in the interest of saving time, I had to see for myself if you were the one doing the trafficking as some intel might suggest.”

  Romero was stoic. He looked Xander straight in the eye. “I have heard these rumblings myself. I give you my word, as a man: it isn’t me.”

  Xander searched the man’s brown eyes. Nothing inside them told Xander he was lying.

  “They say your men are involved. If not you, then who?”

  Romero finally broke the stare and looked down at his feet as he shook his head.

  “I have tried to deny this and keep this embarrassment from coming to my doorstep. But it is the reason the Sinaloa Cartel is here tonight. And it is part of the reason for many sleepless nights.”

  “Who?” Xander was not concerned with Romero’s lack of sleep.

  “My son.”

  12

  Mexican Standoff

  Xander could see by Romero’s demeanor that it was a sore subject. And frankly, they currently had bigger fish to fry. The two men glanced up at the television on the wall, and it showed the cartel breaching the gate. This wasn’t how Xander saw his Friday night going, but things rarely work out the way you think they will. Especially when you are keeping company with criminals. Though even for Xander a full-on turf war was a bit much.

  Well, not really.

  He didn’t exactly want to fight an army of half-trained thugs, but he also didn’t have a choice. They were coming whether he wanted to be involved or not. Whether his team wanted to be involved or not. This wasn’t about fighting for Romero and his cause; it was about fighting for survival.

  “Follow me,” Romero told Xander, and he walked straight toward the bookshelf on the far wall.

  “We don’t really have time for Pride and Prejudice.”

  Romero grinned as he pulled on a book on the third shelf. Something clicked behind the shelving, and the entire section began to move inward like a door.

  A secret room.

  “Did I mention I like your style?” Xander told him.

  A light flickered on inside the hidden room, and three walls of weapons awaited them. It was a glorious sight for a soldier like Xander. The room was a lot like the one in his basement in Lexington. With a quick glance, there were a lot of the same weapons as well.

  Xander said, “This is great for you and me, Romero, but what about my team?”

  “Ricardo is bringing them in from the guesthouse. He is also gathering the ladies from the gallery. They will be safe until we arm ourselves and make our way to them, so don’t worry about Samantha.”

  “That is one woman I have never had to worry about. Trust me when I tell you, she’ll be just fine.”

  “You are full of surprises, Mr. King.”

  “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  As the two of them picked out their weapons of choice and filled a bag with enough for the rest of the team, Xander could feel the adrenaline start to leak into his veins. As he removed his sport coat and rolled up his sleeves, excitement filled his system.

  I must be one sick son of a bitch.

  At the back of the mansion, Lola was showing Sam the gallery. Though Xander likely had far more money than Javier Romero, Sam could instantly see that their spending habits could not have been more different. Xander would never have a room dedicated to expensive artwork. It wasn’t that Xander wasn’t sophisticated enough to appreciate great artwork; he would just consider it a waste of money to spend millions of dollars on what looked like something a fourth grader could paint.

  “And this, this is a Jackson Pollock,” Lola said as she pointed to a canvas with what looked like random splashes of paint.

  Sam wanted to act impressed, but she couldn’t. The “artwork” looked as if the artist accidentally tripped and fell, spilling the paint on the canvas and then was too lazy to clean it up. A million dollars later and he was a genius.

  Lola could sense that Sam was unimpressed.

  “Oh good, I see you are like me.”

  Sam snapped out of her trance.

  “Excuse me?”

  Lola placed her hand on Sam’s arm.

  “I don’t like any of this . . . crap either. But Javier loves it.”

  “Oh good, so you see this as drivel as well?”

  “If by drivel you mean a waste of money, then yes.”

  It was then that the two of them heard something just outside the room. Lola didn’t have the experience that Sam did; that’s why she wasn’t alarmed at the sound.

  “Are you expecting
company?” Sam asked as she walked over to the window.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “That was a gunshot, and unless those are your husband’s men coming toward the back of the house, I’d say we’ve got a problem.”

  The look on Lola’s face was sheer terror. She rushed over to the window and peered out into the night. Then she looked back at Sam.

  “We need to get back to Javier.”

  Sam was about to agree, but the French doors behind her exploded inward and before Lola had the chance to scream, Sam shoved her to the ground. She then spun toward the men in black and reached up under her dress. Strapped to her right thigh was a Glock 19 pistol. Before the men could register that the beautiful woman in the sexy white dress had pulled a gun on them, Sam ended their evening abruptly as she put two bullets in each of their chests.

  She then rushed over to the window to check the outside perimeter. They only had seconds before more men would be on top of them.

  “We have to move, now,” Sam told Lola as she helped her up from the floor.

  “Who the hell are you?” Lola said in awe.

  “Apparently I’m a trouble magnet.”

  Sam jerked Lola out in front of her and told her to lead them to the front entrance. Just outside the door, more gunmen were fast approaching.

  Xander and Romero walked into the foyer at the same time Lola and Sam were walking in from the other side of the house.

  “What the bloody hell is going on?” Sam said to the two of them.

  Romero took in the sight of Sam. Xander could only imagine what he was thinking. Sam looked about as sexy as a woman could as she stood there, rocking that beautiful dress, pistol at the ready.

  “Told you there was no need to worry about her,” Xander said to Romero. Then to Sam, “Apparently we flew right into the middle of a turf war.”

  “Bollocks.”

  Just then the front door opened, and Romero, Xander, and Sam shifted their guns toward it, anticipating the worst. Instead, Kyle walked through the door. He immediately threw up his hands in surrender.