The Cartel (A Sarah Roberts Thriller Book 15)

by Jonas Saul

  Malaka shook his head. “Nothing. He wouldn’t give Enzo’s place up. Said Enzo would do worse to him than anything I could dream up.” Malaka shrugged. “Guess I went a little too far. His heart gave out when I was grinding my screwdriver along his calf bone. Sometimes when you puncture the skin and twist the screwdriver into the shin, they get pretty fucked up when it touches the bone. Never had one die on me, though. Dammit man. Sorry, Darwin.”

  Darwin patted him on the shoulder then turned around. He looked into the eyes of every man there, one by one. The weight on his shoulders of letting Sarah get taken was suddenly heavier.

  “There has to be something,” he said. “Aaron, Casper, can you remember anything about the walk away from the compound? What about you, Aaron? You spent a few weeks there. What did the house look like? Incoming roads? Fences? Would it be something you’d recognize from satellite photos?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt to bring in a computer and I’ll start looking at property within an hour’s drive of Tijuana. Something somewhat secluded.” He snapped his fingers. “It had a reservoir. That will narrow the search down. Wish we had that GPS tracker, though. That would lead us right to Sarah.”

  Bush jumped to his feet like he’d been electrocuted.

  “What is it?” Darwin asked.

  Bush glared at him like he was angry for a moment. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before.”

  “What?” Darwin asked.

  “Yeah, what?” Aaron added.

  “GPS. There’s one in the BMW.” He pointed at the room Malaka just exited. “That dead asshole used GPS. The Enzo compound might be in the GPS’s history.”

  Darwin turned and bolted for the door. He smashed it open and ran for the car with feet pounding behind him to catch up. The first one to the car, Darwin turned the GPS on and instantly accessed its history. A list of addresses popped up on screen. He scrolled down, studying them. One remained common.

  “Get the computer,” he yelled to no one in particular. “Aaron, Casper, stay with me.”

  While he waited, Darwin ran through the rest of the history and determined the address he suspected was either the hit man’s home or the Enzo compound. For all he knew, that could be one and the same.

  Malaka shoved the computer through to Darwin. He brought up Google Maps and typed in the address, then dropped the little man down for street view and handed the computer to Aaron.

  “This it?” Darwin asked.

  Aaron nodded furiously. “Yes, that’s it!”

  They had found the compound in less than a minute.

  “We’ve wasted enough time. Everyone,” he shouted at full volume now. “Mount up. Grab everything you have and be ready to go in less than five minutes. Go! Beaver, stay with me.”

  The men scattered. Darwin had enough Kevlar vests for everyone and enough guns for each man to carry two. What he needed was for a man to stay behind and clean up. Once they had Sarah they wouldn’t be coming back here.

  “Beaver, bury the driver of this BMW out back in the woods. Then take an hour to clean the place. Walk to the highway and wait for my call. When we’re clear of the compound, we’ll come pick you up.”

  “Consider it done, eh,” he said and smiled.

  “Okay, eh,” Darwin mimicked and headed inside to grab his gear.

  Today was their last battle in Mexico. He not only hoped he would get Sarah free of this cartel, he also hoped he could get back to pick up Beaver. He’d hate to leave a fellow Canadian behind.

  It wasn’t just that. He didn’t want to lose another mercenary on this trip. But something told him, deep down, that he wouldn’t see Beaver ever again.

  Chapter 43

  Enzo had calmed down. He’d ordered all his men but five to leave the compound and head to the cabin where Darwin was hiding out with however many men he had. Frustration and helplessness overwhelmed Sarah. With Vivian gone, an internal conflict raged inside her. A battle with Vivian went one-sided as Vivian still remained quiet. It had to mean Sarah would be fine. That Sarah was on the right path. Otherwise Vivian would step in and change things.

  But how could this be the right path? Darwin, Parkman, Daniel, and all the other men at the cabin were about to be slaughtered while Sarah fought the urge for another needle.

  The homicidal maniac pacing the floor in front of her caused a hatred in her she’d never known before now. She would fight and subdue and sometimes, if needed, Sarah had killed people. Enzo made her yearn to kill him. No fight needed. Nothing else. Just death. Then this would all be over and they would be free. The search for the black book in Amsterdam and Greece. The fighting in Europe, the fighting in Toronto, had led to this moment. She wouldn’t change a thing, but suspected Vivian could’ve changed a lot of things along the way.

  Yet hope was an elusive bitch. Hope made her believe that ultimately she was at the right place at the right time and everything would work out. Unless, of course, she was supposed to die. That was the one thing she could never count on. When that happened, it would just happen and chances are she wouldn’t even know until she was dead.

  Enzo’s phone rang. He clicked a button.

  “Speak.”

  Sarah glared at him, heat oozing off her face.

  “We’re onsite and approaching the cabin from the rear,” the caller said.

  “Do you have absolute certainty this is the right place?” Enzo asked with a quick glance at Sarah.

  “Yes sir. One man is dead. We caught him with a shovel fifty yards behind the cabin. He had just started digging a hole.”

  “For what?” Enzo turned to face Sarah.

  “He was burying a man in a nice suit. A Hugo. He was tortured, sir. The man with the shovel was burying what remained of the body.”

  Enzo’s jaw tightened. He stared back at Sarah.

  “Kill them all,” Enzo said. “The helicopter will be ready in minutes. It’s loaded with enough bombs to level the cabin. Just fueling it now. Give precise directions when you’ve executed everyone. And call me when you have Aaron.”

  “Will do.”

  Enzo clicked the phone off. He moved to stand in front of Sarah.

  “This is it,” he said. “The end of your life begins now.”

  He produced a needle from somewhere behind him and jabbed it forcefully into her arm, plunging the top all in one motion.

  She fought, she struggled, but it was no use. Her limited movement constricted her to only shaking. The drug took effect almost immediately, a sense of peace eased over her. The pain in her cheek from his knee and the cracked ribs eased off.

  “What’dya go and do that for?” she asked.

  He ripped the duct tape off her chest, then tore it from her wrists.

  “Just enough to get you high but still responsive. You have to walk on your own and I don’t want to fight you.”

  She giggled. Then frowned. “Fight? Why fight? You win.”

  “That’s better.”

  He snapped the duct tape off her ankles and dragged her to her feet. Having sat for so long, her legs were weak. The intense pressure in her bladder also eased off as Enzo walked her toward the door. She tried to swing at him, but the feeble attempt only tapped his arm.

  “You’ll enjoy my barn, Sarah.”

  She thought he was joking about something. “Sounds good to me.”

  “I’m interested to know. How does death make you feel?” he asked. “You’ve been communicating with the dead for some time and now you’ll be dead. Any last thoughts?”

  “Nope. None. But I’m not going to die.”

  Someone shouted by the front gates. Enzo stopped guiding her. Sarah stared at a bunch of ladies she had seen before but couldn’t remember where.

  “What the fuck is this?” Enzo asked to no one in particular.

  At the gate, a group of women were arguing with security. From their loud voices and the lack of interfering noise, Sarah gathered that these women were supposed to be given a tour of the grounds and then a two-hour
horse ride. They demanded to know why it was being canceled.

  Sarah recognized Sandra Gonzales who turned toward Sarah and pointed. They had said something about riding horses before they flew back to the States. Then she saw the familiar face of Alexia Purdy. The WASPS had come to save her life as Vivian had predicted.

  “That’s Sarah Roberts,” Sandra yelled. “She’s been missing from the hospital. We demand to know what you’re doing with her here.”

  “Yeah,” Alexia joined in. “I think we need to call the police.”

  Enzo spun Sarah around and headed back to the main house. Once inside he tossed her forward where she fell to the carpet. By the time she rolled over, Enzo had his phone out and it was already ringing.

  He clicked something on it and shouted, “Get rid of them.”

  “I’m trying, sir.”

  “Try harder.”

  “They have tickets for the horses. They’re demanding entry—”

  “Either kill them all or remove them from the property. Or kill yourself and I’ll come do it because what would I need you for if I have to come and do your job. You’ve got one minute.”

  He turned and punched the wall two-handed.

  “Problems?” Sarah asked, then giggled.

  “I hide in plain sight,” he said without looking at her. “We offer daily horse rides.”

  “Horse rides.” She sniggered. “A cartel that sells cocaine and offers horse rides. Oh man, that’s funny. You’re a riot.”

  “This house is a charity organization. No one would know what really goes on here. And no one will ever know.”

  His phone rang.

  “What?”

  “They’re gone. But they saw Sarah.”

  “Fuck!”

  “They’re coming back.” He paused on the line. “Possibly.”

  Enzo clicked off. He ran at Sarah, grabbed her arm and hauled her back to her feet.

  His phone rang again. He let her go and she crumpled to the floor.

  “What?” he shouted.

  “Cabin’s empty, sir.”

  “It’s what?”

  “Empty. No one is here. They’re gone. The Beemer’s gone.”

  Enzo turned in a complete circle on the carpet. “I thought you said this was the place.”

  “It is. But no one’s home.”

  “Where might they be?” Enzo asked. “Did you ask the guy with the shovel before you killed him?”

  “No sir.”

  Enzo threw his phone across the room, panting like he’d run a couple of miles. His faced flamed red and his eyes swelled.

  “This is all because of you. Those women will come back with the authorities. I’ll have more people to pay off. I’ve lost millions of dollars because of you. Over a dozen men were killed when Aaron and that American agent escaped. All because of you.”

  “Pick your opponents more wisely,” Sarah said, trying to maintain a straight face while enjoying the shit out of this moment.

  “The way to solve all this is to have you dead. I have to have you dead as soon as possible.”

  He grabbed her arm and lifted her up. Dragged behind him, Enzo rushed her back out the door and barely missed being killed by the volley of bullets that raced by in front of him.

  Enzo ducked and jumped back inside the house even as the glass in the windows broke inward from the fusillade.

  Chapter 44

  On the ride over, following the BMW’s GPS, Darwin outfitted everyone with an earpiece. Parkman drove the RV until they got to the access road that led to the address. No other houses were in sight and the trees were the same as Aaron and Casper remembered.

  After hiding the RV under tall trees, Darwin eased the Beemer along the access road while the men ran behind it.

  When the guard tower came into view, the men dispersed into the trees and made themselves scarce. Darwin edged the BMW along the driveway with Malaka, the only one staying behind it, bent over, hidden by the trunk.

  The guard tower door opened—the rain must’ve obscured his view through the shack’s windows—and the armed guard stepped out.

  Malaka rose up, aimed, and took the shot.

  The guard jerked back and fell on the wet pavement. Darwin waited. Malaka waited. No other guard stepped out.

  Darwin started forward again. At the gate, he pushed the garage door opener button on the sun visor and the gate slid open.

  The rest of the men emerged from the trees on either side of the BMW and as a unit they entered the grounds without resistance.

  The moment they did, Darwin saw the door open on the side of the large house in front of them. A tall, well-dressed man exited with Sarah in tow. The relief at seeing her alive stunned him into temporary paralysis.

  It was Malaka and Bush who began laying bullets down in front of the man hoping he’d panic, drop Sarah’s hand and become exposed, or simply leave her there and run. He did just that but dove for cover back inside the house.

  Seconds later, they scattered at the return fire. Darwin dropped sideways along the front seat of the BMW as the windshield shattered inward. When there was a break in shooting, he scooted sideways, dropped onto the grass from the passenger door and rolled behind the car as another volley of bullets rammed the front.

  “I’ll cover you,” Malaka shouted.

  Darwin watched and waited. Then Malaka stood, shouldered his AR-15, and let loose.

  Scrunched down, Darwin ran for cover behind the guard shack at the gate.

  As far as he could tell, none of his team had been hit yet.

  Then the BMW exploded, knocking Malaka off his feet even though he was ten yards from it.

  Darwin covered his ears and screamed.

  Chapter 45

  Sarah crawled toward the open door as bullets rocketed all over the grounds. Bullets hit brick, glass, and stone and made soft punches as they bit into the earth.

  It seemed like an eternity before she could reach the safety of the house, the whole time wondering who was shooting.

  At the open door, she crawled in and rolled away for cover. Her arm caught under her ribs and she screamed out at the pain. She instantly rolled again to get off her wounded side and grunted.

  The gunfire outside didn’t abate. Glass broke somewhere close by. She jerked as something exploded outside. Her drug-addled mind tried to focus. She tried to stand, but fell on her butt. Why wouldn’t her legs work? They felt rubbery. She tried again, got to her feet and staggered as her vision slanted the room, first to the right, then left.

  What had Enzo given her?

  She made it to the open door and looked up. There were five different places along the roof where the barrels of guns lined the edge. One would disappear while the others fired. Then another would disappear only to be replaced by two more. Enzo’s men were firing back. Whoever they were attacking by the road was losing.

  She crept low to the front window that had been blown out. She tried to see who was out by the front gate but couldn’t as they were well hidden. Whoever they were, approaching in a BMW—such a nice car—wasn’t probably the best idea.

  A beefy hand wrapped around her arm and shoved her through the open window. She smacked into the ground and rolled onto her back. The rain pattered down on her face. She tried to blink it away, but it was relentless. Her inflamed ribs screamed.

  Before she could try to get up, a man lifted her toward the helipad where the chopper was already spinning its rotors. Another man beckoned them from behind the front bubble of the machine that for some odd reason made her think of a housefly’s eyes.

  She laughed despite the pain as Enzo—she knew it was him carrying her now—a rabid dog’s determination on his face, ran for the chopper. With every step she tried to get her feet under her, but it was no use. He held her tight, like a doll under his arms.

  The world spun. Dizziness set in to the point where it appeared the chopper was already flying in a strong wind.

  Someone called her name. A volley of weapon’s fir
e answered the shout.

  She heard her name again as they reached the chopper and could’ve sworn it was Aaron’s voice.

  But they’re all dead. Aren’t they?

  She sprawled on the floor of the chopper as it lifted off. She slid and bumped into the seats at the front as the chopper’s nose dipped. A wall of boxes with hazardous materials markings were strapped in at the back of the chopper. Enzo had talked about filling the chopper with enough bombs to raze Darwin’s cabin.