A scream.
Imelda.
Shit!
Gabriela grabbed bothsicarios’rifles, dashed out of the office, and ran up the stairs on the opposite side of the foyer, positioning herself as best she could for cover—and a good view of the entrance below. She raised up the rifle just as men rushed through the door, heading for Ruiz’s office.
She pulled the trigger.
Nothing.
The fire selector!
She flicked the switch from safe to full-auto and poured on the fire.
Ratatatatatatatatat!
One down.
But firing a fully automatic weapon was new to her. She wasn’t prepared for the way the recoil forced the muzzle to rise, moving her off-target.
Now the others knew where she was.
They turned, shouted at her, raised their rifles.
She fired again, going for three-round bursts and trying to be methodical, taking out the one aiming at her first before firing at the next.
Ratatat! Ratatat! Ratatat!
Two down. Three. Four.
Ratatat! Ratatat! Ratatat!
They returned fire, plaster exploding from the wall around her, something hot slicing across her ribcage.
Ratatat! Ratatat! Ratatat!
Silence.
Below her, the marble floor of the foyer was red with blood.
Rifle raised, she waited, certain the men who were with Dylan would have heard the gunfire and would come running upstairs to help. But they didn’t.
She walked carefully down the stairs, watching for movement among the bodies on the floor. She checked them, one by one, to make sure they were dead, then walked into Ruiz’s office.
Sergio de Anda Ruiz, the leader of the Andes Cartel, sat in his chair, face on his desk, most definitely dead, two bullet holes in his head, the back of his skull blown away.
She grabbed a set of car keys from his desk and took another man’s rifle, checking to make sure the magazine was full. Then she made her way down the back stairs, knowing that the othersicarioswould return soon—and that Luis Sánchez and the media would be with them.
I’m coming, Dylan.
18
Dylan fought to catch his breath, shredded by the blinding pain of another electroshock.
God, how about that miracle? Please.
Was he praying?