Dead Heat (32 page)

“He understands this area and these people. He identified the general as Vasco Trejo. He knows what he’s doing.”

Archer put her hand up to stop Brad from arguing. “I agree we need more intel, but I trust the people down here. I’m not stopping a key operation because a mercenary has a suspicion. If he has something solid, give it to me and I’ll listen.”

Lucy shook her head. She trusted Kane’s instincts, but there was nothing solid to give. She glanced at Brad, then said, “Mirabelle said earlier that Jaime had someone on the inside.”

Sam said, “Brad told me. And we’re proceeding with caution. But you think it’s DeSantos, right?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else.”

Sam turned to Brad. “Thoughts?”

“We’ve kept this as close to the vest as possible. If there’s a law enforcement leak, the chances are it’s someone in SAPD. Our teams in San Antonio and McAllen aren’t new.”

Sam considered, then said, “It’s my call. We’ll send a recon team to the site. I’m going to leave a team of six here to continue searching and make sure Sanchez isn’t coming back. I’ll have Rollins detain the girlfriend. Everyone else, we’ll head to
gato
but we do
nothing
until we confirm the intel we have. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Donnelly said.

*   *   *

Bella had never seen such a huge house. And it was pink. Not bright pink like her Barbie house, but light pink, like the roses in Abuelita’s backyard.

Uncle Jaime was mad at her because she cried too much. She tried not to cry, because she didn’t want to make him mad, but sometimes she couldn’t stop. She missed her mama. She missed Uncle George. She even missed CeCe.

Men she didn’t know had stopped them at the bottom of the mountain, then drove them up to the gigantic house. The road was bumpy and went around and around. She leaned into her uncle because even though she was scared of him, these other men were even more scary. And they had guns, big guns over their shoulders, and knives on their belts and they didn’t smile at all, not
once.

“I wish CeCe were here,” she whispered as the Jeep stopped and her uncle lifted her out of the backseat.

He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t talked to her hardly at all since they left the dirty house where that woman he kissed a lot lived.

Bella didn’t like Uncle Jaime’s voice anymore. He’d never really been nice, but he sounded meaner now. He didn’t give her a toothbrush. And he only gave her food in wrappers. Her mama didn’t like that food, she said it was bad for you even if it tasted good. Bella liked her mama’s food, especially when she let her help make tamales.

“Uncle Jaime?”

“Be quiet. Okay? Just stop talking.”

She was shaking by the time they walked all the way up the stone path to the big wood front door. It had a glass window with colors, like the church.

The men who walked with them knocked on the door. It was opened by another man with a gun. Bella stepped behind her uncle.

“You’re late,” the man in the doorway said. He didn’t smile.

But he let them in, and that was good because Bella was hot and tired and really, really thirsty.

The house was cool with tile floors and big ceilings and lots of space. Bella’s eyes grew wide as she looked all around. She’d never, ever seen a house this big or beautiful. She felt so small.

They went into a room that was as big as her whole house. It had couches and books and a big table and glass doors that went right outside. She could see a pool, big and blue, shimmering in the sunshine.

A man stood in the middle. He wasn’t a big man. There was nothing scary about him and he didn’t have a gun. He was shorter than her uncle George, but taller than her uncle Jaime. He wore white pants and a white shirt and was very pretty.

Girls are pretty, boys are handsome, stupid.

It was like CeCe was talking in her head right there. That made Bella homesick all over again.

No one said anything. The man in the white shirt walked over to her and squatted down. He had a mustache. He smiled. He was the first person who had smiled at her since Uncle Jaime took her from Mr. and Mrs. Grove.

“Hello, Isabella,” the man said. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Do you know who I am?”

She knew because Uncle Jaime had told her many times. “You’re my father?” Her voice was small and whispery.

He smiled wider. “Yes, I am your father. I have wanted you to live with me for a long time.” He took her hand, then stood back up and walked her to the doorway. A woman appeared. Older than her mama but younger than her
abuelita
. “Letitia will show you to your room so you can take a bath and put on pretty clothes and maybe sleep for a bit, okay? Then we’ll have dinner together, just you and me, and get to know each other better. Okay?”

She nodded because she had to answer, but didn’t know what to say.

Then she asked, “Can my mama come live here, too?”

He stopped smiling. “We’ll see,” he said in a tone that Bella knew meant no. Her mama used that tone a lot.

She really wanted to go home.

*   *   *

Jaime Sanchez has caused Vasco far more problems than he was usually willing to tolerate, but he needed the man for a while longer.

It didn’t make Vasco happy.

Jaime said, “We found the boy. We have him secure, and will be transporting him to the compound tonight.”

“Kill him already. He’s the reason the police are so close. We’ll use another kid. Why you didn’t kill him when you found him the first time, I don’t know. Sometimes, Jaime, I wonder about your intelligence.”

“It takes time to train them. He was prepared.”

“He was fooling you. Not me, but you. And you bought it. He needs to die. But we have another problem. The FBI agent who’s been working with the DEA is related to a mercenary down here, someone I’ve managed to avoid for the last seven years. Now I can’t. That doesn’t make me happy.“

“I don’t understand.”

“And that’s the problem. You go after the FBI agent and the hammer comes down. If they get any closer, we’re taking them all out, not just that bastard DEA agent. Understand? You don’t like getting your hands dirty, but you’re going to be getting dirty, Jaime.”

“I didn’t go after her! I swear!”

Vasco laughed. “Don’t play me for a fool. DeSantos was a bigger fool for listening to you. He ultimately had to pay the price, but don’t think I won’t make you pay if there’s one more fuckup before we destroy the Vallerjos. Once we take out that gang, we’ll be on equal footing with the Texas Mexican Mafia. If we fail, I will slit your throat myself. Understand?”

Jaime nodded. He didn’t have a choice.

And it didn’t really matter. Vasco planned to kill him in the end, anyway.

“Now I’m going to make sure that dinner is perfect so I can finally get to know my daughter. It figures that Mirabelle couldn’t give me a boy, but I’ll marry her off at sixteen and she’ll start having my grandchildren. She’ll have babies until I get my flesh-and-blood boy.”

*   *   *

The snitch was a hooker who went by the name of Lana. Lana had given the DEA information on occasion. She was the preferred whore to certain men who knew certain men. It wasn’t that they talked to her, unless it was to tell her to get on her knees, but she was around, and being around had its advantages.

She didn’t share everything, but she knew what was worth sharing—information that couldn’t be traced back to her. Her mama didn’t raise no fool.

So when she got a call from a friend of a man she knew, a friend who dropped all the right names and places, she went to the meeting. She’d already been paid a thousand bucks for sharing information she’d overheard; if they wanted to give her more to keep her ears open, she’d take it.

But when she opened the door to the motel room with the key that had been left under the mat, she realized that maybe she had her daddy’s pea-brain after all.

She faced a gun. With a silencer. And a person in a mask aiming it at her ample chest.

Lana realized that maybe the information she’d most recently sold had come too easily. They’d found out, and she was being terminated.

No words were exchanged, no pleas heard, because three bullets hit her center mass before Lana figured out that her initial thought was wrong.

Lana didn’t see her killer step over her body and take her purse because she was already dead. No surveillance camera caught the crime because there were none pointing toward the cheap motel.

Five minutes later a small fire destroyed the leather gloves, black jumpsuit, and ski mask that the killer wore. It also burned the thousand-dollar bundle that had been used to pay Lana to set up the ambush.

The gun, however, would be hidden, to plant later when someone needed to be framed.

CHAPTER 27

The staging area for the second phase of the operation was by necessity a mile from the abandoned row of warehouses, off the main highway, down an unused, packed dirt road. Boulders provided a natural barrier, but it would be difficult for anyone to spot them unless they had air surveillance.

Two decades ago the whole area had been owned by private military contractors serving the many Air Force bases in southern Texas; after the bulk of the base closures, they shut down. Many went bankrupt, or simply walked away from their business. Over the years, they’d been leased by the city, but for the past five years, they’d been virtually untouched, their fate ruled by the economy.

Lucy stood apart from the DEA agents who controlled the scene. Ryan was silent at her side, watchful as Juan had ordered him to be. She didn’t want a bodyguard, but she was grateful for a friend. “Do you think Kane might be right?” Lucy asked Ryan.

“Any op like this is dangerous,” Ryan said. “But according to Tom and Clark, the source is reliable.”

Tom and Clark were the two undercover agents who’d been watching the warehouse from a strategic vantage point. Unfortunately, because the row of warehouses was in the middle of open space bordered by an unused junkyard, they couldn’t get as close as they would like.

“I understand your loyalty to Sean’s brother,” Ryan said, “but you also need to look at where Archer and Donnelly are coming from. They’re DEA, they have rules and checks and balances, and they’re not going to go into a situation without as much intel as possible. Kane Rogan is making a knee-jerk response to partial information. He doesn’t know the source or even the location.”

“You make sense.” And he did, but so far Kane had also given them verifiable information. Archer already knew about Trejo, so that information hadn’t come out of nowhere.

“But, that said, I’m going into this eyes wide open and expect the unexpected.”

She smiled up at him. “Glad to hear it.”

They stood there and watched as Sam Archer gave final instructions to Tom and Clark. The two men, both in their thirties, fit the bill of undercover agents and could have been brothers. Both Hispanic, they wore faded jeans and dirty plaid shirts. They had an unmarked undercover car, an old El Camino that had more exposed metal showing than faded brown paint. An early morning rain shower had left a blanket of humidity in the air, and the dark sky threatened to dump more. Distant thunder rumbled, but she didn’t know if there’d be more rain or if it would pass them by.

Sean called her as the El Camino drove off.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Waiting near the warehouse where we think Sanchez is going to show up.”

“Based on?”

“A snitch.”

“Kane thinks it’s a trap.”

“I know. I talked to the team about it, but they have additional intelligence on this location and think it’s good information.”

“I’m with Padre.”

“Jack’s Army buddy?”

“We’re checking on a lead.”

“On Michael?”

“I can’t say.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“I don’t know anything specific. Call me when you’re done. And be careful, okay?”

“Always.” She hung up and itched to do something. Standing here, waiting for Sean, waiting for information, waiting for
action
, was going to drive her batty.

The undercover agents returned fifteen minutes later, windows rolled down, music blaring, maintaining their undercover role. They turned off the car and approached Sam Archer. Lucy and Ryan inched closer so they could listen.

“Report,” Archer demanded.

“Something’s going down,” Tom said. “Two men, young, with guns are hanging at the door to the last warehouse on the strip.”

“Guards?”

“Our take, yes.”

“Vehicles?”

“None visible, but there’s a trucking bay that looks like it’s been recently used. They gave us a look, didn’t seem concerned, but watched us leave.”

“Can we get heat signatures?”

“Not at this distance.”

Brad approached. “We need a plan, Sam.”

“We need better intelligence, and two gangbangers with guns isn’t enough. You had this information on the warehouse yesterday—why didn’t you have people down here?” she asked the two agents.

“It’s almost impossible to set up a good vantage point,” Tom said. “We were here this morning, and it was empty. It’s a good setup for them—nearly three-hundred-sixty-degree visibility, if he has enough people to cover each point. Junkyard to the north, easy to disappear.”

“How close is the junkyard?” Brad asked.

“Shared fence. Maybe fifty yards, max.”

“Our thermal imaging unit should be able to read at fifty yards,” Archer said. “Team of two, covert only, take the scan into the junkyard. Give us something to work with.”

“We got it, we know the layout.” Tom motioned for Clark to grab the equipment. They left in the El Camino, but went in the opposite direction so they could enter from the north through the abandoned junkyard.

“Do we have blueprints on the warehouse?” Archer demanded. “People! I asked for blueprints forty-five minutes ago!”

Brad said, “Rollins is on her way.”

“I thought she was with the ex.”

“Peña is in custody, and since all agents are either here or sitting on Peña’s house, Rollins is the only available agent.”