“No, señor, he spoke Spanish. They both spoke only Spanish.”
Jeronimo gave Imelda a shake. “You saw the nun kill my cousin?”
“I was in the kitchen, but I heard it. But she cannot be a nun. She is a demon.”
Jeronimo released Imelda and turned to Luis, rage on his ugly face. He pointed to the helicopter. “Take your reporters and get the fuck out of here! You brought this down on us. You’re lucky I don’t gut you where you stand!”
Mono and his men raised their rifles, pointed them at Jeronimo’s men.
“No, Mono, lower your weapon. They are grieving. We will talk again soon, Jeronimo. I’m sorry about Don Sergio. He was a good friend.”
That wasn’t true, but it wasn’t right to speak ill of the dead.
“Mono, get the reporters back into the vehicles. Call the pilot and tell him to prepare to lift off. We’re going back to Caracas.”
But Jeronimo wasn’t finished. “We will find your commando and this demon nun, and we’ll deal with them our way. They are ours now. Our partnership with you is over. You are no longer a friend of the Andes organization.”
Luis’ stomach seemed to drop, blood rushing from his head. “Our partnership—”
“It’s over!” Jeronimo spat on the ground.
His partnership with Sergio and the cartel was the source of his wealth—and his brother-in-law’s most significant secret source of income. Without it…
His brother-in-law would kill him. “We can discuss this at another time. You’re upset, I know, and we grieve with…”
Jeronimo drew a pistol, pressed it against Luis’ forehead. “Leave! Now!”
“Don Luis, please, get in the vehicle,” Mono said.
Luis climbed inside, fear a weight in his belly as they drove back to the helipad.
19
Dylan drove toward Maracaibo, Gabriela asleep in the seat beside him, her face lined with exhaustion and worry. Or was that pain?
She’d come so fucking close to being killed today.
They both had.
If someone had told him at the initial mission briefing that the nun would turn out to be a CIA officer and would not only provide valuable intel, but also take out a dozen killers along with the head of the Andes Cartel, Dylan would have thought they were loco. And yet, she’d done all those things—and more.
It was supposed to be Dylan’s job to keep her safe, but she had risked herself to save him. She’d never killed before, but today she’d taken the lives of thirteen men, something she would carry with her for the rest of her life. She had a higher kill count than he did for this mission, andshewas the one being rescued.
But that wasn’t the crazy part.
The crazy part was that he was falling in love with her.
¡Coño!
If that was true, he was fucked.
Whatever he was feeling, it was probably just adrenaline getting mixed up with hormones. He was a man, and she was a beautiful, smart, talented, courageous, brilliant, sexy woman. Once they got back to the US, they’d go their separate ways and …
And he didn’t want that.
Tough shit,cabrón. She’s got her life, her career. Do you think she’d give it up for a man who couldn’t keep her safe?
Dylan had replayed the past eight hours over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. But it all came back to one thing: drones. That was the crucial missing piece of intel. If he’d known about the drones, he would have headed north rather than trying to cross the Colombian border.