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“Who is Carlos Desposito and why was his nephew killed?’
“Possibly because Carlos was once considered one of the most powerful men coming out of South America, hiding behind diamonds while producing and selling cocaine, heroin, crack, and other drugs to anyone who could pay his hefty prices. However, he pissed someone off, someone who wanted him dead. So it appears Carlos went into hiding.”
She took a deep breath. “You think his nephew was killed in retaliation?”
I sensed she was fishing as she’d been doing, hiding aspects of what she knew. “It’s possible.”
“But you’re not buying it.”
“That’s not my job, Sheriff. Now, I assure you that all the horrible stories you heard about cartels in the past were fueled by the truth of his brutality. There wasn’t a law enforcement agency or rival syndicate who wasn’t interested in capturing or killing Desposito for his unscrupulous practices and brutal methods.”
I did wonder what Emmanuel Santiago could tell me about the man and how he’d managed to walk away without being killed.
She snorted. “Are you trying to tell me there are scruples within mafia organizations?”
“Mmm… Within true mafia families, absolutely. Cartels are different. They will and have sold their mothers if they’d believed it would bring them more power. Now, let me ask you a question.”
“Okay. That’s fair.”
“This murder victim. Did he have a tattoo by any chance?” When her eyes opened wide, I smiled. “He did. It would seem Carlos’ nephew became a member of a secretive kamikaze organization hired by a ruthless and very exclusive organization that is currently in the process of gaining power throughout the world.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A collaboration of men and women who want to rule the world by crushing anyone they believe are their enemies.”
“World control?” she asked, her tone incredulous. “Is that even possible?”
“It would take a significant amount of planning, years of eliminating rivals but I would say if the group can become savvy enough, capable of keeping their organization secure while hacking and grabbing needed information about financials, security, military operations, then yes.”
“What does this kamikaze group do for them?”
I took a sip of my drink, the rotgut liquor exactly what I needed for the night, the burn as it slid down the back of my throat a reminder this wasn’t part of the game. Her life was in danger as was mine. “They handle the kinds of assignments that no one else wants to do. In turn their families are well provided for. In the process, these hired men are doing the dirty work for the group as well.”
“By eliminating their rivals.”
“Yes.”
It dawned on her the rest of what I was saying. “My God. They know they’re going to die.”
“Exactly.”
“But if Juan Desposito is Carlos’ nephew, why would he allow himself to be killed in his uncle’s house?”
“That’s a very good question. When we find the answer, we might know who is hiring members of this secret society.”
“Your hand. Another incident involving these suicide soldiers?”
“Yes, one I forced, I’m afraid, by attempting to lure one of the drug dealers you’re fighting into a meeting.”
“You killed him.”
“No. I didn’t. I didn’t have a chance. He took care of it himself.” I moved closer, cocking my head as she backed away, a hint of fear in her eyes. “You are afraid of me.”
“I’m not afraid of anything any longer, Diego. I’ve been through too much in my life.”
“Your brother?”
I expected her to shut me down again. When she looked away, I was certain I noticed tears in her eyes. “Jake was my big brother, someone I could count on after our father left in the middle of the night. I looked up to him and in turn, he cared about me, watching out for my safety. Then everything changed.”
