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Chapter One

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Augustino Konstantine—or Tino Rodriguez as he was known to drug lord, Paolo Garza—stood waiting in the inner sanctum of the drug lord’s compound.

“You’ve been pushing to prove your loyalty. Today is the day.” Garza sat behind a mahogany desk in the spacious office that only the few he trusted were allowed to enter.

“What am I to do?” Tino silently applauded himself as he stood at attention. During the five months he’d worked his way up the chain in Garza’s organization, the drug lord had checked out all of his fake background. Garza would expect an ex-military sniper to show his respect by standing at attention.

“The Alvarez gang intercepted one of our shipments. I want the Alvarez brothers brought to me.”

“Alive or dead?” he asked, filing away in his memory the newly garnered intel about the seven-foot safe door on the wall now directly behind him and the heavy door to his left. He’d bet his abuela’s Bible that door was bullet-proof.

Garza’s teeth curled back in a feral smile as he nodded his head. “I like your thinking, but I wish them alive. I need to set some rules the two pendejos need to learn.”

“Does Cezar know where they are?” Garza’s righthand man had been missing for the last hour. Tino suspected he was gathering information on the whereabouts of the brothers.

“Cezar is escorting a special guest here. But Hector has been following the two and called to tell me he lost them in the colonias.”

“I’ll start there.” Tino turned to leave.

“Rodriguez.”

Tino pivoted and looked the drug lord in the face.

“If you cannot bring them in, do not show your face here again.”

The threatening tone punctuated what he already knew. If he didn’t bring the Alvarez brothers back, he would be hunted down and killed because he’d witnessed and participated in illegal activities.

“I will be back with your guests.”

Tino exited the office congratulating himself at having made it to Garza’s inner sanctum, but now realized there were two more doors that would need breeched before he could find the evidence to bring in the Drug Enforcement Agency.

His mind wandered to the problem of finding the Alvarez brothers and gaining entry into the room behind the bullet-proof door. He stepped out onto the front portico. Cezar walked alongside a woman who carried herself in a familiar way.

Tino’s blood iced with fear as he recognized the long hair, button nose, and wire-rimmed glasses. Another glance at the woman he knew so well and the ice melted, simmered, and quickened his heart. What brought his querida to the drug lord’s Mexico City compound? Dread, desire, and regret collided as he blindly slammed into a cement pillar.

Coño! He pushed away from the cold, hard pillar and swept a hand across his stinging cheek, quickly scanning the area to see if anyone noticed his face plant into the column and the reason for his distraction. Allowing Garza or one of his narcos to notice his reaction to the appearance of Dr. Isabella Mumphrey would start a fissure in his carefully crafted identity. Fear for her collapsed his lungs making it hard to gather in air. He’d already lost his family to the man he planned to take down; he didn’t want her to get caught in his revenge.

Isabella had changed his outlook on life less than a year ago and now she walked into a viper pit as innocently as she’d walked into the Guatemalan jungle and his heart. His feet stalled, but as vehemently as he wanted to hurry to her and keep her from entering the door of Paolo Garza’s home, he couldn’t jeopardize her life or his chance at bringing down the person responsible for so many lost lives.

Tino continued his path along the edge of the courtyard, watching the slender backside of the woman he’d left six months ago in a bed in Guatemala stroll into his enemy’s lair. Even in her drab, long, flowing skirt, pink school-girl top and sweater, doing nothing to hide the fact she was as flat-chested as he, he couldn’t control the effect she had on his body.

His miembro tightened remembering the passionate days spent in the woman’s arms. What was she doing here? He’d only had contact with her once after rushing from her arms to worm his way into Garza’s confidence. Tino grit his teeth and forced thoughts of Isabella from his mind. Now wasn’t the time to wonder about the woman.

He had a job to do that would bring him closer to his goal. Revenge.

Tino slipped into his SUV and drove past the open wrought iron gate, the only entrance into the adobe walled compound surrounding Garza’s fifty-two-hundred square-foot vacation home. Two miles away, he pulled over and extracted a small surveillance detector from his backpack. One thing he’d learned while working his way into Garza’s small circle; the drug lord was suspicious of everyone and liked to keep tabs on his underlings without them knowing. Just one of the many reasons he had to pretend he’d never met Isabella before. His background cover would not have put him in contact with the anthropologist.

Satisfied there wasn’t a listening or tracking device in his vehicle, Tino pulled a Glock from under the seat and slid the magazine out. The ingenuity of the DEA’s geek squad lifted his lips in a sardonic smile. If any of Garza’s men searched his rig, all they’d find would be his older model Glock. He plucked the last bullet from the magazine and popped the ear bud out of the casing. Placing the small microphone and receiver in his ear, he placed the gun on the seat beside him and turned the vehicle back onto the road. In this upper-scale neighborhood his dark blue Tahoe wasn’t unusual.

“Rico, do you have an eye on the Alvarez brothers?” Tino kept his SUV pointed south, heading toward the borough in Mexico City where only the desperate lived. His skin crawled every time he entered this area. It reminded him of his early years in the U.S. after his father secreted the family out of Venezuela. They’d lived in slums until his father acquired a U.S. teaching certificate and lifted them back up into the comforts a professorship offered them.

, they are conducting business at the Cantina de Los Amigos. Why?”

“Garza ordered me to bring them in.”

Rico’s soft whistle and curse loosened the bunched muscles in Tino’s shoulders. “What mano? Are you worried I cannot bring them in?”

“You are as crazy as Garza. The last time Garza sent three men to capture those two Garza’s men disappeared.”

Tino tipped his head side to side, popping his neck. “You forget, I know how to take down my prey.”

“I hope you have a lot of tranquilizer darts.” The worry in Rico’s voice added to the edginess Tino had been ignoring since seeing Isabella. More than his cover could be at stake. Now that the brilliant anthropologist stepped into his mission, he had to keep her alive.

Tino looked into the back seat of his SUV. The case holding his sniper rifle, modified to handle tranquilizer darts, sat in the seat along with a pistol that shot the same darts. When he started his career as a jaguar tagger for the Central and South American governments, he’d never known it would come in handy with his DEA work.

“They have three bodyguards, but the way the two are partying we should be able to lure them outside. Guadelupe and Bess are ready to roll into the cantina and catch Raul and Jorge’s eyes.” Rico chuckled.

“I thought you said they were conducting business?” Tino hadn’t come up against these two before. They had just been picked up on Garza’s radar as encroaching on his territory.

Mano, that is how they conduct business. They pachanga with their distributors, showing off their product, and close the deal after an orgy of sorts.” Rico snorted. “They will be drooling to get Guadelupe and Bess into their party. “

Tino shook his head. He didn’t see the Alvarez brothers as competition to Garza if they partied more than they conducted business, but he had orders, and he had to bring the brothers in or risk losing the ground he’d made in gaining Garza’s confidence.

“I will wander in myself and check things out. Will the ladies be wearing jewelry?”

“Hear you loud and clear, Tino.” Guadelupe’s deep sexy voice filled Tino’s head.

“I am a block away. Make your move.” Tino turned into the alley behind the cantina and parked. The area was empty. A chill chased up his back. Where were the guards? The Alvarez brothers couldn’t be so cocky they didn’t expect trouble. Not after hijacking a shipment of Garza’s product and selling it in his area.

“Why is there no guard in the alley?” he asked Rico.

“You will find him inside the back door. They like to surprise unexpected guests.”

That made more sense. “Are there cameras in this alley?”

“Not that we are aware of.”

In case there were surveillance cameras pointed at him, Tino leaned between the seats, pulled out a bottle of Cervaza and sat in the driver’s seat, pretending to drink. When he finished, he twisted around through the seats again and prepared his rifle and pistol, placing them under the middle seat before locking the vehicle and walking down the alley toward the front of the cantina.

It was four in the afternoon, when most businesses were starting back up after a two hour lunch break. The constant hum of voices from the pedestrians, the drone of engines crowding the street, and gagging exhaust folded around him, dragging him out of the pleasant thoughts of Isabella and into the present unsavory world he now revolved in.

Tino detested the cantinas in the colonias. While he came from a long heritage of male dominance in his culture, he’d acclimated to the American woman who didn’t allow herself to be lorded over. The cantinas in the lower-class areas of Mexico City clung to the machismo attitude allowing few women into the establishments and filling the air with too much testosterone for his liking. While the men didn’t appreciate their own women in the cantinas, they welcomed the half-dressed women who wanted to party for a small token. The air reeked of musky floral perfume battling men’s spicy musk cologne, pheromones, and fried food. The music of the trovadores rattled and stomped in his head like a bad headache.

“You would think they could attract better musicians,” Rico said in his ear.

Tino snorted. “Sí, their squalling is irritating.”

Rico laughed. “Do you see the girls?”

Tino worked his way to the bar, ordered a Cervaza and peered around the establishment, searching each booth along the wall. He found Bess chatting with a group of men in a corner booth.

“You did not tell me Bess was wearing a flower garden.”

Rico barked laughter, causing Tino to flinch. “It made her easy to find, no?”

“I am going to walk by so they know I have arrived and see what the Alvarez brothers have for back up.” Tino picked up his glass and wandered through the middle of the room, stopping now and then to make eye contact and nod to the other patrons. He wanted to appear a local rather than an outsider.

A smiling, curvaceous woman in a short tight skirt and see-through blouse moved toward him. Not that long ago he would have easily played along with her, but no longer. His body and heart had been taken hostage by a tall, thin doctor of anthropology who could set him on fire with one look.

Tino’s stomach churned when the woman grasped his hand and encouraged him to follow her to a booth. The only woman he wanted to spend time with in a dark corner was in Garza’s compound. His stomach clenched. Whatever Isabella was up to, he hoped like hell she didn’t get herself killed in the process.