Chapter 36
Bandannas covered the thugs’ faces. We had clearly invaded their turf. This was their grow. Or more likely, their boss’s grow. Either way, we weren’t welcome.
I smiled. "It's a beautiful night for a treasure hunt, isn't it?"
"There ain't no treasure here, man,” the leader of the gang said with a Spanish accent.
"You picked the wrong place to search, my friend."
"I suppose you're right. It's getting late anyway, and we probably ought to get going.”
I took a step back toward the way we came.
"Not so fast," the leader of the group said.
Weapons tensed, and fingers tightened around triggers.
I froze in my tracks and raised my hands innocently, staying calm. I didn’t want to agitate these guys. There were four angry barrels of assault rifles aimed at us. It didn’t matter how quick on the draw I was—those bullets would be faster.
The leader of the group was tall and skinny. He wore a black bandanna around his face and a baseball cap on backwards. A tattoo of a demonic skull with a hood and flowing cape covered his inner forearm.
A shorter, pudgy guy stood next to him with a blue bandanna. The other two that flanked us were average builds, maybe 5’9”, wearing black bandannas, jeans, and black shirts.
These were cartel guys, but not Colombian.
There were so many rival factions in Coconut County that it was a constant power struggle.
Mexican cartels, Colombian cartels, Chinese Triad, Russian Mafia, and the good old-fashioned mob.
They were all active, and they all stepped on each other's toes from time to time. It could get pretty violent.
Blue Bandanna muttered something to the leader. The leader gave him a doubtful look.
"I'm telling you, it's him, man," Blue Bandanna said, pointing at Mickey.