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see him when we came in. If one of them called the police or their friends, it’s over. I can’t protect your rear.”

James glanced at the kitchen door. A silence fell over the restaurant. Nobody in the street dared approach the carnage. For all James’ bloodlust, Diego was right. If anyone came in from the rear, Diego would die, and James would find himself pinned down.

“Alright, let’s go. He wasn’t here.”

Diego screamed at the civilians in Spanish to leave. The few remaining made a mad dash for the door. James watched them, satisfied that none of them had sustained any injuries.

“Come on.” James stood, his gun never pointing away from that kitchen door. “Can you walk?”

“Yes. It’s only my arm.”

“Go ahead of me.”

James backed up out of the restaurant as Diego led the way to the car, cradling his arm. The screeching of police sirens cut their way through the city. The operation was a failure.

Chapter Eighteen

Guanajuato, Guanajuato, Mexico

 

A bloody bullet from a nine-millimetre pinged as it hit the metal tray. Dr. Miguel Carlos Silva worked on Diego’s wound with his various tools of torture. Diego’s face twitched every time Dr. Silva poked and prodded at the bloody hole in his arm.

“Will he be okay?” asked James as they sat in the courtyard of the doctor’s mansion.

“Sure, a few weeks and the strength will come back into the arm. You kids need to be more careful.”

James gave a little half-smile. Dr. Silva had retired from his practice. Diego knew he didn’t ask any questions and gave good advice. His white hair looked transparent in the glare of the sun.

The doctor lived in a rural colonial mansion outside of Guanajuato City. His home’s internal courtyard had a stone fountain bubbling away and a large orange tree. The season for the oranges had almost reached its crescendo, with a thick citrus smell emanating from the fruit.

“We did all that for nothing,” said Diego. “All that work and this in my arm for nothing.”

James tasted the ashen sense of failure in his mouth. They had failed and were no closer to finding the location of Jessi Montoya. Now Quezada’s men knew they were being hunted.

“How could this have happened? Rosher’s information was good. There were narcos there, just not the one we were looking for.”

The doctor continued to work away on his arm, splashing disinfectant onto the wound. Diego screwed his face up as the liquid burned into the crevices of his wound.

“Rosher?” asked Dr. Silva. “That idiot governor of ours?”

“The same,” said Diego.

“Ah, they found him earlier today. It was all over the Internet. Wandering along the highway with that wife of his.”

The colour drained out of James’ face. “What?”

“Yes, he flagged down a car. Got one and it was the police. They took him into custody and they’re investigating who took him.” Dr. Silva winked with a knowing look. “Not that I care, of course; he’s a pig.”

James didn’t know what to say. They’d locked Rosher up in the bordello, a narco bordello at that. He couldn’t imagine how he would have escaped from a room with bars on the windows. Those rooms didn’t have any tools for people to use.

“You think –”

“I studied in the United States.” Dr. Silva cut Diego off. “The state governor is kidnapped from the road and you turn up at my house with a bullet in your arm. My dear Diego, you must think I was born yesterday.”

James chewed on the inside of his mouth. They should have never come to this Dr. Silva at all. Now they had another pair of lips to sew shut. If Rosher got the word out that Diego kidnapped him, Quezada would realise they had taken the side of La Familia. Then they were legitimate targets of war.

“You better not –”

“Diego,” Dr. Silva snapped. “First of all, stop moving. Second of all, I’m retired. I have no interest in your business. My only concerns are the few patients I have, such as yourself, and my gardens.”

“Alright, fine.”

“In any case, I’ve kept your confidence for years. Why should you think I’d turn on you now? What would I have to gain from it?”

“Money,” said James.

Dr. Silva glowered at him. “When you get to my age, you’ll understand money isn’t everything. What would I do with an extra million dollars? I’ll be dead within a few years. I don’t speak with my kids, so I wouldn’t give them a cent of it.”

James sighed. It didn’t matter what they said aloud now the doctor knew about their involvement. In his head, he cursed Diego for putting them at risk like this. The more people who knew their business the more tentative their positions became.

“Rosher must have lied to us,” said Diego. “He sounded so sure.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Think about it. How many narcos were in there?”

“Eight or nine, counting the ones that went into the kitchen to get away.”

“Who goes to a restaurant with eight or nine people all sitting at separate tables in the restaurant? If you bring a lot of people, you join a few tables together and make one big table.”

James considered Diego’s theory. He remembered the locations of the narcos when they kicked in the door. They shot a group at the closest table, but the narcos were sitting all around the restaurant, including some near the kitchen. That didn’t make sense.

“I suppose you have a point,” said James. “You’re not thinking they expected us, are you?”

“Hold still,” Dr. Silva hissed. “I’m preparing the stitches. You move, we’ll have to do it all over again.”

Diego growled at Dr. Silva. The normally emotive Diego couldn’t stay still as the conversation grew more animated.

“That would change everything, Diego. I know what you’re saying,

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