Page 143 of Damián

“How do you know?” he asks, visibly shocked.

“I know everything, Silvio. I know you wear size ten shoes. I know your Social Security number, that your grandma in Vancouver loves her dog Rupert, that you lost your virginity in the back of a pickup truck, and that your dentist appointment was moved to next Tuesday…” I lean closer. “I know everything.”

Silvio nods and laughs.

“What?”

“Nothing… I just finally understand why Rafael is so terrified of you.”

“Not nearly as terrified as he’s going to be.” I stand up and offer him my hand to seal the deal. “Come on, Silvio. It’s time the heir takes his place.”

CHAPTER 17

DAMIÁN

We are currently surrounded by hostiles at the terminal of an old abandoned airfield and the intel we received was half-right: the Medellín cartel is indeed loading a private plane with three hundred kilos of crystal. But their headcount was off.

Way off.

There aren’t twenty guards like we were told; there are at least fifty, all heavily armed, and they are fighting like fucking maniacs.

“Dami, freeze,” Law says through my earpiece.

I stop and stay still.

WHIZZ.

Law’s sniper round passes so close to my ear I can feel the damn air displacing.

THUD.

A second later, the cartel man who was about to blindside me from behind drops to the concrete.

“Thanks, Harry Shotter,” I say, waving cheerfully toward the rooftop where I know our beautiful redhead sniper is nested.

“Boss, do I have permission to shoot him?”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lawy-law. We all know I’m your favorite.” I drop my empty magazine, slap a new one into my rifle, and chamber a round.

CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!

A machine gun fires, and the whole team ducks into safety.

“They are definitely hostile today,” Leif says over the comms, and I hear the rapid fire of his assault rifle in the background. “Their aura is incredibly aggressive.”

“They are a cartel, Leif!” Knox grunts, and I can see him throw a grenade at a group of men who are getting closer. “They don’t have auras. They have AK-47s.”

“Both can be true, Knox,” Leif replies.

“Something is wrong, jefe,” I say, after having to reload my rifle for a second time. “Either we were sent the wrong information, or something really big happened in the span of a day.”

Logan throws an explosive and shoots it before it hits the ground. “Big like what?”

“I don’t know… turf war, the death of one of their leaders, a union between cartels, you name it.”

“Shit… Alexios, talk to me. What is the status of the cargo?”

“It’s bad, Boss… Cargo is almost fully loaded, and they have started the preparations for taking off,” Alexios’s voice comes through the comms. “And if they head to either the East or Southeast, they’ll exit sovereign U.S. airspace in less than 4 minutes.”