Bane: Elite Operatives (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 4) (8 page)

Mariachi Motherfuckers

THE DROP THE NEXT night was in the middle of nowhere Mariachi-ville, Mexico. The night was cold and bright and closing in on the end of November. I half expected to get jumped by goddamn guerilla groups as we drove up to the meet. The deep forested area should’ve been peaceful at that late hour but with the fucking El Caminos pumping bass from Bose speakers and the old school Buicks bouncing on hydraulics I felt like we’d pulled up to a barrio block party not a gun exchange.

We stepped out of our SUV after Kiki killed the ignition—well, Kiki stepped, I hobbled.

The noise escalated as Carlos, the Los Reyes de Guerra leader, wound his way through the crowd toward us.

Kiki and I stood, surrounded on all sides and highlighted by vehicles’ highbeams shining on us. We were both packing as I was sure every other thug here for the exchange was, too.

Carlos, scrawny as ever, whistled between two fingers and the noise died down. His bodyguard stationed his big bulk next to the bossman.

“
Hola
, Igor.” I nodded at the huge goon.

Douchebag frowned with his big block forehead. “
Me llamo Juan
.” He pointed a finger at his chest.

“It’s a joke, you know like . . . from
Frankenstein
.”

“I don’t joke.”

No shit.
Dude probably needed to lay off the ’roids because he had all the personality of a lobotomy patient.

“Senorita Catalina.” Carlos waltzed up to Kiki, kissing her on both cheeks like this was a goddamn night at the opera instead of a gun deal. “
Hermoso como siempre
.”

I rolled my eyes as he laid it on thick with her. Spiffy cunt in his slick suit. Too bad about the disfiguring scar and the fact he was about as heavy as a bantamweight.

“What happened to
cabron
here?” he asked, gesturing to the leg I was favoring just a little bit.

“I was playing with guns.” I grinned. “Speaking of, how about we get on with this.”

“Impatient,
si
? That’s the problem with the world these days.” He continued with his state of the world message, addressing Kiki, while I lit a cigarette.

And smoked it. Impatiently.

Finally, with a second whistle, Carlos signaled another Los Reyes member forward. The dude carried a bulging black duffel he placed on the hood of our truck. He unzipped the bag, revealing stacks of cocaine inside.

Carlos nodded, and the man pulled out a brick and sliced it open with the tip of his knife.

Waving me closer to the goods, Carlos smiled in that oily way of his. “Try it.”

“Think I’ll save it for our customers.”

His head tilted and his smile thinned. “But I insist. I need to be sure you’re legit.”

Without any further hesitation I unsheathed my KA-BAR, dipped the tip into the powder, and guided it to my nose. In one quick suck, I snorted the fucking cocaine.

The fast hit of high-octane drug worked like a shot of adrenaline to my system. I wiped off my blade, feeling like my body had just been fed a burst of fuel.

“It’s good.” I sheathed my knife.

“
Bueno
.” Carlos clapped his hands together.

Great. At least he was happy. I felt like my brain was taking a trip down the rabbit hole as a million butterflies shivered over my skin. My nose was numb, the back of my throat tickled, and my entire body was on high alert.

We walked the drug dealing assholes to the back of the SUV and opened it up. Inside were three crates of weapons and ammo Igor unloaded by himself. Crowbarred that shit open, too, although he probably could’ve used his bare hands to break the nailed shut boxes apart.

Three crates containing three different lethal weapons: AK-47s, FN 5-7s, and last but not least the bragged about 50 cal
s
.

Kiki leaned against the open gate of the truck. “All there. High quality. Told you we had the goods, Carlos.”

“
Ahh
, my Katherine. I never doubted you for a moment,
mi tesoro
.”

The dude made me want to puke. Or punch him until his brains turned to mush.

After speaking to
Igor
, he gave the orders for him to take the expensive weaponry away.

“To a happy arrangement.” Carlos pulled a silver flask from the inside pocket of his suit.

Uncapping the container, he passed it to Kiki.

She dutifully downed a swallow before handing it to me. I took a pull then gave it back to Carlos.

“Listen,
mi amigo
. Heard you had a Middle Eastern connection somewhere on American soil.” Kiki played good cop with her good buddy, the killer.

“Where’d you hear this?” Staring at Kiki with those black-pit eyes, he capped the flask and stashed it away.

“I may have had a vested interest in a certain MC’s affairs in Louisiana. The same outlaws you referred to the other night.” She flashed a pretty smile. “You know how I like my men.”

Jefe
changed instantly from suspicious to interested. “Katherine,
mi hermosa
. What’s in it for me if I happen to know a certain
fundamentalist
group?”

Oh hell no. Kiki was not giving up tail for terrorist intel. I didn’t give a fuck how much Blaize wanted that info.

Before I could charge in, macho-colors flying, Kiki placed a soothing hand on Carlos’s arm.

“But what about Nina? Your beautiful wife? I could never be the other woman, Carlos.”

“I’ll divorce her.”

And then suddenly they were laughing like old pals.

I chuckled once, the effects of the blow still trickling through me.

“How do I know you’re not just trying to cut me out of the deal with the foreigners?” Carlos jerked his chin toward the guns Igor was passing around.

“We don’t want to sell to them. We want to buy from them.” Kiki smirked, deftly reaching to pull out a cigarette from the pack in my hand.

Cuntface immediately bent toward her to light the end with his flashy zippo.

“We heard they have some wicked explosives.” Kiki blew out a stream of smoke.

“We?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah.”
Cabron
. “I’m the silent partner.” I bolstered up from the edge of the truck, making my muscles very apparent.

Kiki shot me a look. Probably meant stand the fuck down.

But I was all ready to play
bad cop
if push came to shove.

“Fine. I’ll put you in touch with Nasim.” Leaning toward Kiki, he did the kissy-face thing again. “He’ll be in the City in a few days.”

I shook the slimy shit’s hand, wanting nothing more than to take my KA-BAR and knife him all the way through to the spine.

Settling into the passenger side of the truck after packing away our cocaine surplus, I saluted Igor through the open window.

Dumb schmuck
.

Kiki shotgunned it out of the area to the sound of random gunfire as the dudes played with their new toys, yipping wild shouts with that ear-bleeding Muzak turned up.

I slouched down, careful to move my leg as little as possible as the truck jarred over ruts in the dirt track.

“Fuck. I hate that shit.” I rubbed my twitchy nose.

With one hand on the wheel, Kiki reached into the back and grabbed a bottle of water. She tossed it to me.

“Never had a taste for blow?” she asked.

“Hell no. My body is my temple.” I thankfully guzzled the liquid ounces. “Now, if we’re talking about
blowjobs
. . .”

She huffed a laugh, sending me a flirty glance. “I already know how you feel about those. And, by the way? That temple of a body of yours has a few holes in it.”

Her dry comment drew a smile from me. “Yeah well, I’m a danger to myself and others.”

If only she knew
.

Sobering for a moment, I tapped a pack of cigarettes on the dash. “Carlos got a hard-on for you or something?”

“You’re jealous of a cartel ringleader?”

“Depends. You ever do him?”

“You think I’m into crime lords who mistake wearing Hugo Boss and Polo cologne for being civilized?” Kiki rolled her eyes. “I’m into honesty. Not assholes.”

“So you’re just playing him?”

“Come on. We all adopt different personas to get what we want when the situation warrants it.”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my fucking nose again. “Yeah. Guess so.”

We drove in silence for a few miles.

I turned on the radio and fiddled until I found a station I liked. Kiki started humming along to the tune.

I watched her. Baby Spy. Shadow operative. Former Feeb. And who knew what else.

The woman I was falling for.

Singing along to a classic rock tune while driving us away from a drug deal.

And I was supposed to bring Allegra into this life?

****

An hour later we met up with Blaize and Storm at another undisclosed location to hand off the coke. Walker and Justice were still on standby in their hidey-hole.

When we rolled up beside their vehicle I was surprised the windows weren’t fogged due to a heavy-duty makeout sesh. Those two—since NOLA—couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Storm. He’d caught that goddamn garter at Justice’s wedding.

Yup.

He was next.

The wedding virus
we’d called it.

Not me though.

Through our open windows, I passed Storm the duffel.

Then I rubbed my damn nose again.

“
Oh
, Jesus,” he muttered. “You didn’t, did you?”

“Did what?” Blaize’s head—the russet red hair glowing—popped into view.

“He snorted.” Storm told.

I sighed. “Didn’t have a choice.
Jefe
made it an imperative for the exchange. Trust issues.”

“Are you okay?” Storm asked.

“What are you? My rehab intake advisor?”

“
Uh
. Trying to be a friend maybe?”

I scowled. “I know. I think. Still trying to get used to the friend thing. Weird.”

“And we’re back to monosyllables.” He smirked.

I flipped him the middle finger.

“Great. Fuck you too,
hoss
.”

“Boys . . .” Blaize interjected.

The two of us looked at her like cray-cray was catching. Never mind that marriage thing.

“
Men
,” she amended. “Enough already. Bane, are you going to be all right?”

“Yes, I’ll be okay. Fuck’s sake. It’s not like I was freebasing. Shrink my head when we’re back in DC. I don’t do drugs. Coke makes my brain hurt. I’m not about to stuff a brick of flakes up my nose or cook up some meth for my veins.”

“I think it’s safe to say the blow strings you out,
brah
.”

I reach across my open window to bump Storm’s fist. “Ya think?”

“What about the terrorists?” Blaize asked.

“Jesus. I’m high on coke and all you care about is the job, Miss C.?”

Kiki punched me on the arm then peered around me. “He’s joking.”

“No shit? I didn’t know Bane could do that.” Storm riffed.

“Thanks for being my spokesperson,” I said to Kiki.

“No problem. I got used to being the your puppet master with Carlos.”

With that I sat back and let the women do the talking. Kiki quickly filled Blaize in:
the gun exchange went off without a hitch. Meeting the haj in a few days. Carlos the cunt did a solid. Gold stars for everyone.

“Excellent. Kiki, I want you and Bane on the meet, but we’ll all be on backup. So keep checking in with me.” Blaize addressed me in turn. “How’s the leg?”

“Great. Can’t feel a thing. Might snort some more coke.”

“I’m not sure I can get over this cheery new persona, Bane,” the boss lady remarked with a wry smile.

“
Great
. I’m sure it won’t last anyway.”

We parted ways after that, and I hoped Kiki and I were headed to our rancho for some hot food and a hot fuck.

Halfway to our new digs, and my
other
burner rang.

“Fuck.” I fumbled for the phone, tempted to kill the call, but only one contact had the number.

“Yeah,” I answered the cell.

“Update on the target.” The uninflected voice floated over the line.