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Tino and Diego sat in a Jeep three hours from the city waiting to meet up with a drug shipment and escort it to the drop-off site. He understood Rico’s line of thought, but he wasn’t happy with it. They were to keep the shipment safe and let it be delivered. Rico wanted to build Garza’s confidence in Tino as his new righthand man. Six months ago, Tino would have agreed.
Now, he wanted to get this job over and start a new life with Isabella. He’d hoped tonight would be the night he finally took Garza down.
“You do not look like a man who is now the righthand man of señor Garza,” Diego said as they sat in the darkness alongside the road waiting for the sport utility vehicle carrying the drugs.
Tino snorted and took his gaze off the quiet highway. “Hector, Jefe’s nephew and Cezar, the last righthand man are dead. I do not feel my move up will be good if I want to live long.” He didn’t believe he was a target, not yet anyway, but he couldn’t help the depressed feeling shrouding him. Letting the man think it was due to his fear of dying and not a desire to be with Isabella would keep them both safe.
The lights of a SUV came toward them. It was the right color and had the right plates. He flicked on the Jeep’s ignition and followed at a discreet distance. Both stolen shipments had been taken within an hour of Mexico City. Diego slumped in his seat as if dozing. As much as Tino wished he could take down the shipment tonight, he searched the side roads keeping an eye out for anyone trying to intercept the vehicle in front of them.
He’d relish someone trying to take the drugs. The skirmish would give him a good cause to exert the frustration he was feeling. Rico knew the route but had said they would stay far away. Tino would be on his own whatever happened.
His headlights glinted off something shiny on the side of the road moving alongside the SUV.
“Wake up!” Tino smacked Diego in the chest. “Call Garza and tell him we just passed through Puebla and someone is following the SUV besides us.”
Diego called Garza and handed the phone toward Tino.
Tino batted the phone away. “¡Coño! I am busy!”
He heard Garza curse and took the phone being waved beside him. “I do not know what we have but there are two motorbikes following beside the SUV. Sí, we will catch up and grab them.” He tossed the phone to Diego and slammed his foot down on the accelerator, surging the vehicle toward the shipment. The adrenaline rush he’d wished for kicked in.
The motorbikes had moved to the front of the SUV. Tino drove around the SUV, cutting tight in front, forcing the bikes off the road. He thought about following the bikes to see which group was after the shipment tonight. If it was the Bohu gang, he’d read Hadda all wrong. She was not as innocent as she portrayed. Sending two bikes to stop the shipment didn’t make sense. His gut said to stay with the SUV in case there were more. Twenty kilometers ahead two more bikes burst onto the highway in front of the SUV and two behind Tino.
This was the outlet he needed. He could care less about the shipment other than saving it placed him deeper in Garza’s confidence. But the battle to save it...he was looking for an anger release. Tino slammed on his brakes, turned quickly, and aimed his pistol out the window, shooting one biker. The ring of rapid-fire shots and flashes of orange proved the thieves had AK 47 assault rifles. Tino flipped the light switch making his vehicle slightly harder to see.
The SUV with the shipment roared to life running over a bike and rider in its path.
Again, he left the banditos to continue following the SUV. It ate at him to not be able to grab one and find out who was trying to steal the shipment. But this small battle would surely not be their last try at the drugs. He’d wager it was the Bohu gang since Hadda was still in the Garza household. As much as he didn’t want to believe the worst in the girl, there was no one else alive to find the information. But who had tipped off the Alvarez brothers? And they still didn’t know who killed Hector.
Diego’s phone rang as Tino spotted two more bikes alongside the road. Sparks flew from the SUV as gun shots cracked through the night air. He would not allow this shipment to be stolen. His and Isabella’s future depended on him finishing this mission. He slammed his foot to the floor and sped toward the gunfire.
“Drop the phone and shoot!” he ordered Diego as Tino drove one handed and shot with his left. He had to give credit to the banditos they didn’t give up.
He shot one and Diego shot the other. The SUV continued down the road.
“That was Jefe. See the flashing lights ahead? That is three others to help escort the shipment. He said to pick up anyone we can and bring them to him.”
Tino pulled out a high-powered flashlight and aimed it at the two wounded bikers.
“Throw your guns or I will shoot you again!” he shouted. A volley of bullets and bursts of orange light zinged their direction pinging off the metal of his vehicle.
“¡Cono!” He shot them both in their gun arms. One screamed while the other tossed his gun. “Take care of the idiot screaming,” he instructed Diego and grabbed a roll of tape he’d stashed in the vehicle for this reason. Tino strode away from his Tahoe training his Glock on the quiet man. He crouched to restrain the bandito. The young man glared out of a pale, sweating face.
“Which gang do you belong to?” He doubted the man would reply but the colors he wore told Tino what he wanted to know. The man was part of the Alvarez brothers’ gang. He didn’t have to worry about Hadda being implicated. He hoped. Tino taped the man’s mouth and his wrists together. The bandito winced and cried out but the tape muffled the sound. He walked the man to the Jeep as Diego dragged the other one up. Once the second man’s hands and mouth were taped, he forced them to climb into the Jeep. He taped them to the roll bar and headed back to Garza’s. The boss would want to have a word with the two.
Tino cringed inwardly. While bringing the two in worked in his favor, Cezar had been the one who inflicted the wrath of Garza on the Alvarez brothers. As the righthand man it would be his job to beat the answers Garza wanted out of these men. They were just as apprehensible as Garza, but he only liked beating on someone to save his own skin. If he refused, Garza would become suspicious.
The weight of what lay ahead settled on him as heavy as a marble pillar.
~*~
Isabella slapped the book closed. She had remembered it right. The director and Karyme had been on three digs together as archeology students the last one was here at Templo Mayor. They both had knowledge of the tunnels and artifacts. Were they working together? She couldn’t see the jealous Garza allowing his wife to work closely with another man. While Bastante came off as simpering around Garza, she’d witnessed a shrewdness in his eyes several times during Karyme’s party when the director looked at Garza.
Everyone she suspected had two sides to them. She rubbed her throbbing temples and leaned back in her chair. Where were the artifacts shipped to? She sat up straight in the chair. There had to be a log of where all the crates were sent. Another hour passed as Isabella searched the room and came up empty. She’d have to ask Delgado tomorrow for a list of all the addresses of the shipped artifacts over the last year to be able to distinguish which were oddities or to see who signed for their release. The person who signed would have known if an unusual address was assigned to a crate.
She still needed to find the information for her visit to the Garza’s tomorrow. If they had carvings from the Aztec Triple Alliance...excitement skittered across her skin. What a find! And she could write about it in a paper and double her notoriety in anthropology and archeology circles.
But what if the carvings are part of the stolen items? The time period is correct for the missing pieces. There wasn’t a very detailed description of the missing items. She tapped her fingers on the table top. Surely knowing her aptitude, they wouldn’t have her look at stolen goods...would they? Her nerves started bouncing and she stood up. Better to concentrate on the books she needed and get back to the hostel.
She placed the books she wanted to take to the Garza’s on the table. She’d ask for permission to transport them from the building tomorrow. Exiting the archive room, she waited in the recess of the door. Five minutes later the security guard exited and locked the same door as every other time she’d left the archive room.
He entered the elevator and rode it up. Once the light showed the elevator stopped at the main floor, she tiptoed to the door and pulled out the newest tool in her survival vest—a lock pick given to her by WIA. The instructor only had to show her twice and she’d unlocked every door in the building.
She inserted the pick, tickled the tumblers, and the lock clicked. Inhaling, she twisted the knob and swung the door inward. Banks of surveillance monitors filled one side of the room. Why wasn’t there a person down here watching the monitors? And why did the front door security officer come down here? Scanning the bank of scenes, she noted each row was a floor in the building. The fourth floor with the offices had the fewest cameras and they were all situated in the hallway. Some of the museum rooms had several cameras from various angles. The basement had a camera in the hall and one in each room.
The books she’d left on the table in the archive room were visible. Had he been watching her movements? Anyone who watched the surveillance footage while she’d been here would know exactly what she was looking up and it hadn’t all been for a paper.
A shiver rustled up her spine. Was he reporting to someone what she researched?
A monitor brightened. The light came on in the storage room. The same person she’d watched on the videos stood in the middle of the room then walked to a crate. A shipping label was applied and the person moved to the wall under the camera.
All she’d have to do was read the label, and she’d know where the artifacts are being shipped to.
Isabella waited in the room watching the monitor go black then exited and hurried to the storage room. She punched in the numbers on the lock and rushed into the room. As soon as the lights came on, she moved across the floor to the crate the person had labeled. This was why no one thought anything about where the crate was going. It read: British Museum, Great Russell St. London, England, U.K. The missing artifacts were going to a renowned museum.
The whole thing became more and more of a puzzle. Was someone at the British museum knowingly purchasing stolen artifacts? There wasn’t a notation to anyone specific. She stood near the crate contemplating all the facts she knew and trying to formulate a hypothesis.
Scuffing sounds behind Isabella caught her attention. She turned and caught a glimpse of Alphonso moments before he pulled the crate across the hole.