“I want to talk to her,” Cruz told him.
Nodding, Triumph opened his computer. “She’ll be calling once the passport is in her hand. I appreciate the fact that you’rewilling to help, especially since this is off the books. You’re risking a lot for a stranger.”
When the phone rang, Triumph picked up the call on his computer screen so he could patch her into the conversation. Her screen popped up, revealing a black box. She either couldn’t or wouldn’t turn on the video feature on her end.
Triumph started the call with his typical joke offering. “What’s the best way to watch a fishing show?”
Silence hung over the line. Everyone involved in the call was thinking.
Her smoky rasp came over the speaker. “Off the hook? I dunno.”
“Not a bad guess. Live stream.”
Everyone on-screen groaned.
His so-proud-of-myself smile spread across his face. “How was dinner?”
She chuckled. “I’ll never doubt your skills again. Good, thank you.”
“I have some people here who want to talk to you. They’re friends of a friend, but you can trust them.” He nodded to the men.
Cruz spoke first. “G, my name is Cruz Livingston. I’m with the San Antonio office for the FBI.”
“And I’m Wes King. Texas Rangers.”
“Gentlemen.”
Her voice had gone cool. It was as if she’d not only withdrawn emotionally, but he could almost see her stepping back from the phone. Triumph knew talking to these men might cause her enough anxiety that she’d hang up and disappear on him, but he needed to take the chance. Hopefully, her wariness wouldn’t cause her to run.
He attempted to reassure her. “Remember. You called me, which means you trusted me to help you.”
“Trust is difficult right now, M.”
“I get it, G,” Cruz injected. “Your passport is all I promised. In order for me to decide if I help further, I’ve got questions. Since I can’t call the CIA, according to your fire-breathing dragon here, I’m forced to ask you.”
“Understood. I get the Fed being here, but why a ranger?”
“Because this is off the books. If we’re going to help you get into the country, I’m going to need someone a bit stealthier than a Fed. Rangers will have some back doors locally, and I would be conspicuous if I used them. So what can you tell us about why you’re down in South America in the first place?”
There were some rustling noises in the background. “Ten years ago, I became attached to the team trying to take down the Colonel Cartel. Surprisingly, the eldest son and most recent jefe, Guillermo, saw me and decided he was interested in pursuing me. My superiors decided to allow the pursuit, and within six months, I had him landed.”
“You’ve been undercover all these years?”
“Correct. Not standard practice, although there are long-term legends out there.”
“I don’t think there’s any delicate way to ask this?—”
“Don’t try to be delicate,” she assured him. “Simplest explanation, while on assignment for the Company, I was ordered to get close to him, by any means necessary, so that’s what I did.”
Internally, Triumph rolled his eyes. Simplest explanation. More like oversimplified.
Whatever the case, the implication was easy to understand. Ethics and morals aside, G had been ordered to do whatever it took, including getting into the jefe’s bed, to secure information. While he understood the spy game, it still made him uncomfortable. Not with her. Not even with her choice to follow through. However, while he knew she could have refused, herresults probably would have been less successful, and he knew from past experiences with his own employers, she would have been manipulated into saying yes.
Internally, he winced, a flash of their conversation about him controlling her actions without her consent. He should probably apologize for that.
“What was your assignment?” Cruz asked.
“Get access to as much of his operation as I could. Names of buyers, logistics, detailed map of the hacienda, anything that would give us the advantage to take him down.”
