“Noted.”
“Send men ahead. Once we’re done with Zachary, you’ll follow.” I leaned back in my chair. “Inna’s mother stays alive. That’s the only outcome I’m willing to accept.”
“Yes, boss.”
He got up and left the office.
I turned back to the screen and began pulling up everything I could find on the broader Mexican landscape. The problem with Mexico wasn’t the size of the organizations. It was the number of them. Small operations overlapped territories, formed temporary alliances, and betrayed each other as often as they cooperated. Most of them were irrelevant. Only three possessed enough reach to matter. Those were the ones I needed to study.
The office door opened again, and I looked up. Akim stepped back inside, his attention fixed on his phone. His expression told me the update wasn’t good.
“Boss, we have a problem.” He moved closer and placed the phone on my desk. “Two of our men in Cuba are dead. They were attacked. Zachary is also scheduled to make a public statement today. Looks like he’s trying to clean his name.”
I stared at the information for a moment.
“He is planning something.” That pattern was familiar. Zachary was trying to regain control, but it also meant he was working on something. “Which means we move now. Get the plane ready.”
“Right away.”
I took a drag of my cigar and watched the circus through the windshield. Zachary stood outside in his finest suit, surrounded by microphones and cameras. Reporters crowded around him shoulder to shoulder, shouting questions over one another while flashes burst across his face every few seconds. He was smiling for them, projecting confidence for an audience that still believed he controlled the situation.
Men like Zachary always ran toward cameras when the walls started closing in. They mistook visibility for power and applause for protection.
Smoke drifted lazily through the car as I stared, my fingers tapping against the steering wheel. He was proving to be impressively stupid. While he stood out there trying to save his reputation in front of the country, I was sitting in his car. He wasn’t aware that I had taken the keys.
I wasn’t interested in whatever speech he was giving or whatever story he was trying to sell. I was interested in him. After my last visit, he reacted faster than I expected, which told me he was more desperate than he wanted people to believe.
I pulled out my phone and called Akim. “Release the other news.”
“Yes, boss,” he paused. “Also, the men on the other side are ready.”
“Good.” I hung up and smoked, giving it five minutes, because I could afford to.
The first sign that the news was released came from the journalists. I noticed the shift when everyone’s phones went off at the same time. Some reporters glanced down at their phones before conversations stumbled and expressions changed. The atmosphere turned restless. They surged closer, throwing questions at Zachary from every direction.
I watched Zachary’s confidence crack and give way to panic. His bodyguard moved in immediately, forcing a path throughthe crowd as reporters moved after them. Questions followed from every direction, but Zachary kept moving, his pace quickening as he headed toward the car I was sitting in. The bodyguard opened the back door, and Zachary folded himself inside without looking up. The door closed. As the guard walked around to take the driver’s seat, I hit the lock and drove off.
I lifted my eyes to the rearview mirror and found Zachary staring back at me. The color drained from his face, and his mouth hung slightly open. Both hands rested motionless in his lap. He looked less like a politician and more like a man who had just realized the worst part of his day hadn’t happened yet.
“Hello again,” I said, keeping my eyes on the road.
He didn’t speak for a moment. When he did, it came out fractured. “You can’t do this.”
“You think I need permission?”
“Just leave me alone.” The composure he’d managed outside was already gone, stripped away fast now that there were no cameras and no audience. His voice tightened as he spoke faster, trying to regain footing he no longer had. “You took all the companies. You already destroyed me enough. What more do you want? I can pay the amount you lost on that gold operation. Whatever you need.”
“I gave the citizens what belonged to them. You think those three companies could have fed me?” I rolled the cigar between my fingers. “Let the orphans enjoy themselves.”
“Where are you taking me?”
I glanced at him once, as if the question itself were unnecessary.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, and then his expression shifted into something worse than fear, something closer to understanding. He patted his jacket, then the other pocket faster, his movements breaking as panic took over. “Where is my phone? I need to call someone.”
I lifted the cigar, took a drag, then pressed what remained of it against the dashboard and tossed it out the window. The road ahead was clear. I drove without hurry, because nothing about this required speed.
The car came to a stop at the entrance of his organization, one of the most recognized logistics companies in Cuba. It was Zachary’s pride, something he had built after convincing himself he could go up against me and still stand. I kept the engine running and looked out through the windshield.
