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Renata nods sagely. “Then let’s do it. Natalia, call your brothers. We’ll have targets for each of them.”
“And what about me?” I ask, still burning inside from my earlier failure. “I want to help, too.”
“You’ll go with Zane,” my grandmother says. “There’s a warehouse, roughly four counties over. It used to belong to us, but Becerra stole it several years ago. It’s an ammunition stockpile. If you and Zane can destroy it, it’ll leave them largely defenseless.”
I look at Zane. He’s so resolute and sure of himself, confident in his ability to get the job done. To be honest, it’s inspiring. I want to be able to contribute, to prove I’m not some useless bird lost without her cage. I refuse to hesitate next time. I won’t make the same mistake twice.
“Let’s do it,” I say.
Zane nods. “Go get ready. We leave within the hour.”
Chapter 30
Zane
On paper, the plan is simple.
Since we already know the location of the ammunition warehouse, it’s a simple matter of rigging the place to blow. We can level the whole place in one go and hit the road before anyone realizes what’s happened. If we can destroy even half of their stockpile, it could still cripple the Becerra Cartel enough to tip the scales in our favor.
It’s an in and out sort of job.
Hopefully.
Willow and I are joined by a handful of Marrones lieutenants, handpicked by Renata herself to assist us in our mission. Many hands make quick work, as the old saying goes, and it also helps that they have a better lay of the land. We work under the cover of night. No lights, just the stars and the silver glow of the moon. The warehouse sits on the edge of a small town that boasts a few thousand residents. Slipping in and out of here undetected should be a piece of cake.
But I probably shouldn’t get ahead of myself.
Willow and I are hidden at the top of a hill beneath the dense foliage of trees and low shrubs. She has a pair of binoculars pressed to her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line as she surveys the area. The angry red welts on her throat visible over her jacket’s collar give me pause.
I’m haunted by all the things I could have done during the attack on the hacienda. I should have been faster, fought harder, got to her sooner. I don’t blame her for freezing. It’s a normal, human reaction. I’m more than convinced Willow is too good, too innocent for the atrocities of war. It’s not easy to take a life, yet I know she’s been quietly blaming herself this whole time.
“I see movement,” she murmurs.
“Guards?”
“No, there’s a car coming.”
“Probably a shift change,” I say. “How are our boys doing?”
She moves the binoculars to take a look. We’ve sent several of our soldiers ahead, dressed in all black to set up remote explosives around the warehouse. I have the detonator in hand, but I can’t set it off until I’ve got visual confirmation that everything is set and our men have retreated to a safe distance.
“Not yet,” she answers, her brow furrowing. “What’s taking them so long? They should be finished by now.”
“Patience,” I remind. “One wrong move and they’ll blow themselves up.”
“That car’s still coming. It’s pulling up to the front of the warehouse.” She perks up slightly. “Someone’s getting out of the back…”
“I’m sure it’s nothing to—”
“Holy shit!” she gasps. “It’s Arturo and Esteban.”
I tense, reaching for my own binoculars. It takes me a second to put them in focus, but once I spot their frames in the dim lighting, there’s no denying it. They’re here. They’re here and this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. If we take them both out along with their weapons, the Becerras and Allegra are as good as finished.
Beside me, Willow is as pale as a sheet. She’s barely breathing, her body tense with rage and unchecked stress.
“Our last man is out,” she confirms, her words low and raspy. “Set the bombs off. Quickly, before Arturo and Esteban leave.”
I raise the detonator and click the bright red button on top.
