Take No Quarter

by Desiree Holt

  “Dana, for god’s sake, tell him,” Kenzi snapped. “I don’t want yours to be the next dead body I see.”

  “I don’t have a name,” she said at last, looking down at her tightly clasped hands.

  “What?”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “What?”

  “Say again?”

  Trey, Slade, Joe and Kenzi all spoke at the same time.

  Joe was about to say something further, but Slade held up his hand.

  “Are you telling me this whole disaster is about a meeting you’re having and you don’t even have the person’s name? You’ve flown halfway across the country to meet an unknown snitch who could just be setting you up?”

  Trey didn’t know who in the room was angrier at the answer. He sure was ready to throttle the woman. He couldn’t believe they were going through all this for an unknown quantity.

  “I’ve asked this person several questions,” Dana told them, “all of which were answered correctly for someone who says they are close to a person in an elevated cartel position. People are afraid to give their names, ever, and I don’t blame them. And I promised this person that if the info is worth it, my bosses would help get them away from the cartel.”

  “That’s a hell of a lot to promise,” Trey pointed out. “Especially when this person is still an unknown quantity.”

  “We need to get control of this situation before you go off to meet anyone.” Joe looked at Frank. “Any word back yet on the photos you sent?”

  Frank looked at his phone just as it beeped. “Coming through right now. Yeah, and your friend Rod is the one answering me. Shit. Both of those animals are soldiers in the Lopez Garcia cartel. Pretty high-placed ones, too. Rod asked if he could put double guards at all times on the jackass in the hospital. The cartel would have no qualms about trying to grab this guy and shoot their way out of the place.”

  Joe nodded. “Do it.”

  “He also said to call him ASAP. I think he means now.”

  “Text him back that I’ll call him the second I’m done here. Miss Roberts, are you sure you don’t know who this person is? It’s obvious the cartel is prepared to go to any lengths to find out who it is and eliminate both of you. I’ve had far too many reporters play dumb on identity and it always comes back to bite them.”

  Dana bit her lip. “I wish I knew. I promise you that. But this person demanded total anonymity.”

  “God damn it.” He ground out the words. “You went to all this trouble, put yourself and whoever in danger and you don’t even know who you’ll be talking to? How do you know the information will even be any good? How do you know it’s not a trap?”

  “Because the cartel could have killed me at any time,” she blurted out. “They didn’t have to murder my guards and go through this elaborate charade. This person sent me enough snippets for me to know there is something big going on within the Lopez Garcia cartel, something that would blow things wide open, and this person is courting danger by meeting with me.”

  “And why do you think he or she is willing to do this?” Joe Trainor’s voice was calm and even, but Trey heard the undertone of anger. “They have to know they’re putting themselves in considerable peril.”

  “I asked, and the only I answer I got was that this has to be stopped.” She lifted her hands and dropped them. “I’ve met with people when I was working on stories who gave me even less to go on. If you don’t take chances, you could miss out on the most important stuff.”

  “You shouldn’t be out there wandering around,” he told her. “I promise you, someone in the hospital has already passed the word that a cartel soldier has been shot and is under heavy guard. They’ll wonder where his companion is. They’ll put out the word to hunt for you.”

  Trey had had enough. He looked at Slade, who nodded. “Dana, do you have a phone number to reach your contact?” When she pulled it out, he went on, “Did you make arrangements to make at least one phone call or send a text before the meeting, just in case?”

  She bit her lip again, looked from him to Joe to her sister. “Yes,” she said at last. “I can send one text, with a code word so it verifies who I am. Then I can get a response and I destroy the phone.”

  “If you have to reschedule, how do you reconnect?”

  “I’ll get an email sent from a public computer. It comes to an account set up just for this.” She tucked her hair behind one ear and Trey noticed the trembling of her hands. So, their cool cucumber wasn’t quite as unbothered as she tried to appear.

  “Okay. Call this person and say there’s a glitch.” He looked at Joe, who dipped his head in agreement. “There’s no way to know what else the cartel put in place as a failsafe if their hit crew went down. Then we’ll discuss your safety.”

  “But—”

  “Do it, Dana.” Kenzi leaned forward and touched her sister’s hand. “He’s right. You’re the only sister I’ve got. No story is worth your life.”

  For a long moment, Dana Roberts, body tense, jaw tightly clenched, looked as if she was going to give them an argument. Then she blew out a slow breath. “Fine. But I’m not making the call sitting here. I want some privacy.”

  “Whatever works for you,” Joe agreed. “How about over by the truck again?”

  “I’ll send the text first, and then I’m calling my editor, but I need my purse.” She looked around. “When everything happened, I dropped it by the truck. I think.”

  “I’ll get it.” Slade retrieved it from where it had fallen and handed it to her.

  Dana had just walked away toward the back of the hangar when an SUV drove in, fast, and rocked to a stop near the plane. A man in jeans, a tailored shirt and what Trey was sure, when he saw them, were the most expensive boots available, slammed the truck door and stormed over to where the group was assembled. His face was set in an angry expression and fire glinted in his eyes.

  “I think this may be the owner,” Trey murmured under his breath.

  “No shit,” Slade whispered back.

  The man stopped close to Joe and Slade and looked around at everyone, a muscle twitching in is cheek.

  “I’m Craig Medina and I own this place. Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on around here? I got a call from Tony Gillette telling me there were dead bodies and a gunfight and what all else in this place. I did him a favor with this. What has he gotten me into?”

  Joe held out his hand. “Detective Joe Trainor, Bexar County Sheriff’s Office. If you’ll have a seat here, I’ll fill you in.” When the man hesitated a moment, he added, “Please.”

  “Okay, but I’ll stand, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Joe gave him a condensed version of what had happened, hitting the high points.

  “Wait a minute. Just wait a damn minute here. I’ve let Tony deliver his clients to this hangar before, so they can have the privacy they need. I do it with others of my friends. Am I now going to be involved with the fallout from this?”

  “Not at all,” he told Medina. “And no one is sorrier than we are that this happened on your property. But remember, your friend Tony lost two good men and the client is lucky to still be alive. Your name and the name of the ranch won’t appear on any of the reports. You have my word.”

  Medina frowned as he let Joe’s words register. Finally, he nodded.

  “Okay. Who are all the rest of these people here? And by the way, I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d sure appreciate it if you all got the hell out of here.”

  “We understand.”

  By the time Joe had finished the introductions, Dana was finished with her phone calls and her text. While Joe was herding everyone over to their vehicles, Trey pulled Slade aside.

  “We need to get Dana out of sight. I’d like to take her out to your ranch, if you have no objections. Your name hasn’t been involved in any of her activities. It’s a very long shot that the cartel would have the names of the team that rescued her.” He shrugged. “I just can’t th
ink of any place else safe to tuck her away, although I hate putting Kari in any kind of danger.”

  “Don’t worry about Kari,” Slade assured him. “Teo and all the ranch hands will be carrying, and I might call Brock and Axel to come spend a couple of days. No sense bothering Beau and Marc unless we have to.”

  “Agreed. Okay, let’s get everyone out of here, figure out a place to huddle with Joe and move on.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Dana walked up to the two of them while Joe finished soothing Craig Medina.

  “I’m done on the phone,” she told the two men, “and—”

  Trey held up his hand. “Not until we’re out of here. Kenzi, you and your sister get in our car. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  She opened her mouth and for a moment he thought she was going to argue with him. Then she just nodded and tugged her sister along with her.

  “Okay,” Slade told him. “Let me talk to Joe and we’ll get this show on the road.”

  Preoccupied as they were, no one noticed the pilot, cleaning away the coffee things, taking out his phone and casually snapping a few shots. Before long, they’d pay a price for this lapse.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hector had just finished a long conference call on the upcoming expansion of the cartel and was enjoying a cup of café con leche when his phone sounded with Diego’s special ring. His baho jefe, his underboss, would be calling with an update on that bitch Dana Roberts and her arrival in San Antonio. And, hopefully, information on who she was meeting, although they had that covered, too.

  He punched the button to answer the call.

  “Good morning, my friend. I trust all is well and going as planned?”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end, long enough that Hector’s hand tensed around the phone and a sour taste washed into his mouth.

  “I’m sorry, jefe. It pains me to tell you that is not exactly the situation.”

  Motherfucker!

  Now what? He had been assured everything was in place. The gringa’s bodyguards had been replaced and they had boarded the plane with her in New York. They would stick to her like glue until her secret meeting tonight with whoever had foolishly chosen to betray him. He was waiting with a mixture of rage and disappointment to see who the traitor was and would deal with that person in an appropriate manner, one that would send a lesson to everyone else. The man he trusted as much as his family had taken care of the arrangements, so how could anything have gone wrong?

  He drew in a calming breath and let it out slowly. It would not do to lose control, not at this point with everything that was going on. They were so close to expanding the activities of the cartel, with a solid legal and financial structure to protect them as they moved into other countries and other so-called merchandise. So how, he wondered, had someone managed to throw a monkey wrench into such careful planning? It had to be the goddamn reporter, of course. From the moment she’d started in on her fucking stories about the cartel, she’d been a problem. If only that goddamn Felix had killed her like he’d been ordered to, none of this would be happening now.

  “All right.” With an effort, he kept an even tone in his voice. “Let’s have it. What’s going on?”

  “Everything was fine until they arrived at the private landing spot,” Diego told him. “Apparently the reporter’s sister decided to be there to greet them, and she was escorted by two of the soldiers who rescued the reporter from Quintana Roo.”

  “What? How did they even know to find the location? And how did you identify them?”

  “My best guess is the reporter told her sister, and the woman arrived with a welcoming committee.”

  Hector took a sip of his coffee, grimacing when he realized it had cooled too much to be enjoyed. Although right this moment, he was pretty damn sure he couldn’t enjoy anything. How is it turning to shit like this? If he hadn’t already had Felix executed, he would do so. Now. With great pleasure.

  “Best guess? Diego, we are not in the business of guessing. It gets people killed, especially our own.”

  Diego’s sigh echoed across the connection.

  “Si, jefe.” He paused. “But you do understand I am getting this all second-hand, right? Because the location was known, things did not go as planned and the bodyguards are history. Gone.”

  “What do you mean, history?” Hector snapped. “Dead? Captured? What the fuck?”

  As he listened to Diego relay the details, his hand tightened on the cell until he wondered he didn’t crack the case.

  “And you know all this how?”

  “The bodyguards did not check in as they were supposed to when they arrived, so I called the Gillette Security office and pretended to be from her employers just double-checking the arrangements for the reporter. Making sure she arrived at her destination safely. Thank god the person I was connected with is an idiot, careless enough to give me the information I wanted. Roberto is dead and Ignacio is in the hospital under double guard.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Hector wanted to strangle someone. How was it that such careful planning could fall apart?

  “You must get to Ignacio. Surely there must be someone who works at that hospital who we own. Get someone in there.”

  “I am pissed off that we even have to do this,” Diego growled. “But yes, we must take care of him before the DEA sweeps him away. Although he will never give them anything, I assure you.”

  Hector tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair in irritation. “We cannot be sure of that. You know that as well as I do. We cannot take chances, not with everything that is at stake right now. Do whatever is necessary, but just get it done.”

  “I will, Hector. You have my word on that.”

  “Those were supposed to be two of your best men. How in the hell did this happen? I thought everything was going so smoothly.”

  “It is the soldiers,” Diego spat. “If they hadn’t stuck their noses into this, it would have gone off without a hitch.”

  “And how did they get involved?” Hector demanded.

  Another audible sigh from Diego. “I have learned the reporter is sister to a woman who is hooked up with one of the two soldiers who showed up today.”

  Fuck again.

  “Find out everything you can about the sister. I cannot have anyone throw a monkey wrench into things when we are so close to launching this new phase. Get me every single detail. I want to know where she disappeared to, who she is with and how these gringos are involved. If my source is right, these are some of the same men responsible for the slaughter in Quintana Roo. I will not have them interfering again.”

  “Yes, yes. Consider it done.” Diego paused. “But now we have another problem. First, I have to find her. She has disappeared, and we have no way of knowing where she was meeting our traitor, only that it is tonight.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Hector told him. “They’ll change it. She’ll call the snitch and relate what happened, and they will change both the place and the time. Reach out everywhere, find that woman and learn where the new meet is going to be. And when.”

  “Si, jefe.”

  Hector disconnected. Only his rigid self-control prevented him from throwing the phone across the room. He was bothered by the fact that for the first time in his memory, Diego seemed slightly uncertain about doing what needed to be done. He sat in his chair for a long moment, running everything over in his mind. This woman had to be stopped and the traitor found and eliminated. There was way too much at stake to let it go.

  Although the cartel had people everywhere, most of them were drivers or low-level guns. They had their network of distributors in San Antonio, as in other major cities, but he hated to call attention to them. He knew the DEA had eyes out everywhere, just waiting to pounce if something happened. No, he couldn’t ask any of them to nose around, risking exposure and worse, outing the traitor to the Feds before the cartel could eliminate whoever it was, along with that fucking reporter.


  He knew in his gut the sister would also be a problem. Her relationship to the situation might be peripheral, but he wondered if she even knew what her sister had been working on. If she’d guessed what the real purpose was. He had been assured that was not the case, but he knew first hand that blood was thicker than water. That if she guessed anything, knew anything that would help her sister, she would tell her. And all their careful planning would be for nothing. Eliminating both of them would cause a problem, but if done right, it could be managed. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Knowing he needed to be prepared, he dialed a number he seldom used.

  “I am sorry to have to call you,” he said when the phone was answered on the other end, “but a problem has arisen, and I think we need your help to resolve it.”

  * * * *

  They were all gathered around the table in Slade’s kitchen. Brock and Axel had been only too willing to haul ass to the ranch and provide whatever help they could.

  “Deandra said to do whatever was needed,” he told Kenzi. “She’s pretty cool, you know.”

  She had forgotten that the two of them had hooked up. She’d been so busy she hadn’t connected with her friend but once since the day after the Spurs game. Hadn’t even exchanged texts the way she usually did. She would have felt badly about it except Deandra wasn’t one of those clingy friends who needed contact all the time. Besides, Kenzi thought, she’d probably rather spend all her free time with Brock.

  “I’m glad you two hit it off,” she told Brock.

  “She said you’ve been friends for a long time.”

  “Since college.” She grinned. “So if you don’t treat her right, I might have to hurt you. Badly.”

  He laughed. “Duly noted.”

  Teo had made coffee and warmed a plate of flaky pastries, which hardly anyone seemed interested in. Then he went off to make sure all the hands were properly armed.