Chapter 26
26
Sisco and Frazier bumped over the pothole-filled road as they made their way from Paral to El Tarai Cito, near the Sinoloan Cartel territory. He'd already spoken to the head of the Mexico's Drug Enforcement. He found the man intelligent and working hard to fight an endless battle. But what he really wanted was to talk to someone on the inside who knew Raul.
Now, dressed in shit-kicker boots, black cargo pants, and long-sleeved black shirts, they sat in the back of an open-air Jeep, their eyes alert as their gazes swung around. It was a risky trip, considering even there, Mexico's DEA could have been on the take, willing to deliver them to a cartel or kill them just for the hell of it.
They came to an outcropping of small buildings tucked away off the road—old, ramshackle, with a few broken windows and a door that hung precariously by its hinges.
“Jesus,” Sisco said under his breath. He glanced toward Frazier sitting next to him in the back of the Jeep. “I hope I haven't just led us into a trap.”
“We both knew the risks. If Raul gains ground with the cartel, this could be orchestrated.”
“You meet in there.” The driver lifted his hand and pointed at the most dilapidated building.
“Figures,” Sisco grumbled.
While he and Frazier were armed, a quick shot to the head wasn't going to save them. But as he looked around, his spidey senses had not gone off, and he hoped what had saved him many times as a SEAL was still working.
He climbed down from the vehicle, then glanced at the driver watching him. He held his gaze but honestly couldn't tell what the man was thinking. “You waiting?”
“Sí.”
As he and Frazier walked toward the building, Frazier muttered under his breath, “I wonder what he's waiting for? Us to come out alive or to dump our dead bodies somewhere?”
Sisco didn't reply. First, because he had no true answer. And second, he figured at this point they just needed to focus on getting the task done. Stepping inside the dark interior, his gaze swept the room as Frazier walked at his back, knowing the other man was continually sweeping his gaze behind them. The room was empty except for one small wooden table in the middle and several chairs. Two men stood nearby, neither with weapons showing. Similar in look and build, Sisco wondered if they were related.
Black hair, dark eyes, and tanned complexion. Both appeared fit, but interestingly, dressed entirely differently. One man was attired as a peasant, and the other dressed much like he and Frazier. Combat ready. Uncertain who to look at first, his gaze shifted between the two.
It was the man dressed as a peasant who stepped forward. “I am Juan. And this is my brother, Ricardo. I take it you are Sisco?”
Sisco nodded, then jerked his head to the side. “And my partner, Frazier.”
“I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you two, but we all know in this war, relationships are often fleeting… often ended by death.”
“Let's hope neither of us comes to that end anytime soon,” Sisco said.
“Agreed,” Juan said. He waved toward the table. “Will you sit with us?”
Sisco nodded and sat while Frazier continued to stand. Juan understood, and as he slid into a seat, Ricardo remained standing at his back. It was a wartime stance, but considering the enemy they were fighting, it added a layer of protection.
“My source tells me that you are looking for information about Raul Mendez.”
Sisco lifted his chin but said nothing, not willing to give away more than he had to.
“He's smart. Fast learner and knows exactly how far up he wants to climb. He takes risks, but they are calculated risks. We heard about what happened in Montana. To be honest, we were surprised he was arrested.”
“Explain,” Sisco encouraged.
“The cartels are like any Mafia. Hierarchy. Blood relations will go far, but not if they aren't smart enough to prove their worth. A man like Raul, who does not come from a family with a backing, has to work harder to be noticed, smarter to prove his worth, and not fuck up. He's made it to his thirtieth birthday, and you don't do that in this world unless you have protection or intelligent drive to get there. And I can tell you he doesn't have protection by family. His grandparents were farmers. His father was a small-time dealer. Raul knew enough at an early age to know what money could buy. And figured out how to get it. He has a younger brother he has trained.”
“Enzo?”
“Yes. A brother younger by two years.”
Processing the information, Sisco waited.
“Enzo Mendez. He is eager. Ready to take over the transportation of product to Canada while Raul is out of commission. Smart, like his brother. Loyal, from all accounts. To his brother and to the cartel.”
“You admire them?”
“Only as far as you admire someone who knows what they want and goes after it in the smartest way possible. For me to do my job, I need to know that. And I have to be smarter.”
Sisco held Juan's gaze, and his jaw twitched before he let out a sigh. “I imagine you have a great many people you have to know about and be smarter than.”
Juan let out a rueful chuckle. “You have no idea,” he said on a sigh that gave evidence to the weight of his task as an undercover detective in one of the most dangerous cartels in Mexico.
“We don't know their plan when Raul escaped from the hospital.”
“Rumor was that Raul had everything under control and orchestrated what he needed to get free. When that happened, the word here was that he had proven himself by outsmarting the dimwitted Americans, as the cartel likes to say. But it did not go unnoticed that Raul's plan could have backfired, and he would've spent years in prison. As it is, his considerable stash of drugs was confiscated by your police, so he's lost influence here.”
“Another man was working with Raul. We know of his local cohort, Frederick Weston, but there was another man who’s not been identified yet,” Sisco said.
Juan shook his head. “I haven't heard anything but rumors. It wouldn't be surprising because to pull off what they did would take others. I also wouldn't be surprised if some lone hiker doesn't find the body of the helicopter pilot.” His eyes narrowed on Sisco. “There were other rumors.”
“What are they?” His voice was now hard as he leaned forward.
“Talk of a woman taken hostage… who then escaped.”
Blood running cold, he held Juan's gaze, searching the other man's face for any emotion he needed to be aware of, but Juan simply stared back. Trying, and failing, to get his heart to stop racing, Sisco asked, “Is there anything else you've heard?”
Juan shook his head slowly, then said, “No. But there’s another question you should ask.”
“Is there a reason this woman should be afraid?”
This time, Juan slowly nodded. “As I said before, the cartel doesn't like complications and loose ends. But, considering he was in jail and easily identifiable by law enforcement should mean the woman has nothing to fear. That is why the cartel is keeping Raul here and not just to let him recuperate.” Juan snorted. “Raul may find his life cut short with his mistakes.”
“The local man who assisted Raul is still at large. He not only showed his face but is using the product.”
At that, Juan sucked in a hasty breath, giving evidence that Sisco's confirmation was news to the undercover detective. “That would make him a true fool.”
“But fools can be dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“And the other gunman kept his face covered.”
“He could be someone who is looking to move up.” Shaking his head, Juan said, “Always changing… someone is always looking to move up. One gets killed, and another one is there to take his place. I haven’t heard any rumors of Enzo lately. He may be making a move on his brother’s territory soon.”
Now feeling as though he'd stayed away from Lenore too long, he lifted his chin as he stood. Juan took to his feet as well, and the four men held stares. Finally, with his hand thrust out, Sisco said, “What you do can get you killed, but then you know that. Both of you and your families.” He glanced at Ricardo and sighed. “You both know that. What you might not know is how appreciative many are that you risk it all to bring the cartels down.”
Juan clasped his hand. “It may be fighting a losing battle, but at least I can look myself in the mirror and know that I'm doing my part.”
The four men shared handshakes before Sisco and Frazier left the building and climbed back into the old Jeep where the driver had waited. Once on the road, his focus didn't waver. It wasn't until they were on the plane heading back to Montana that he finally breathed easier.