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never took his eyes off the two of them as he put his gun on the ground and kicked it a few feet away.

Quezada didn’t move to grab the weapon. “So, you’re the gringo? The gringo who wanted to fight for Montoya?”

“It was never about that, Quezada. I don’t care about your war. I work privately.”

Quezada stopped hiding his head behind Jessi’s. His grip loosened and Jessi melted towards the floor, leaning against Quezada’s knees. For the first time, James saw the narco in his full malevolence. He didn’t wear the tattoos his men did or the garish jewellery. If anything, he looked like a normal man in smart clothes. It was those eyes that made him stand out. Even the surgeon’s scalpel couldn’t extract the viciousness within them.

“A mercenary,” said Quezada.

“If you like.”

“And what was your mission?”

“To kill you.”

Quezada smirked. “Why?”

James shrugged. “I only work for them. It’s just business. When I’ve finished my mission, the cartels can tear each other apart for all my employers care.”

“Who do you work for?”

James tilted his head out of curiosity.

Quezada pointed his gun straight at him. “Who?”

“Blackwind. You wouldn’t know the name.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t. Didn’t you ever wonder why a cartel leader in Mexico would be that important to a gringo company? Try thinking about why someone would want you to kill me.”

“That’s not my job.”

“Do it anyway.”

James thought about it. At face value, it seemed like any other job. Someone ended up dead and he could leave to begin a new assignment on the other side of the world. He never meditated over why someone had to die or who wanted them dead.

“I don’t know. It could be anyone from the US government to someone who just doesn’t like you. Either way, it’s someone with a lot of money. Our services don’t come cheap.”

“I know who your client is. You think I haven’t known for at least a month that a gringo company has been hunting me?”

James licked his lips. He didn’t trust Quezada an inch.

“When I first created my cartel, I had someone who also wanted it. It was a man called Roberto Romero. You ever heard that name?” Quezada paused for a moment. “He lives in Florida now, so I can’t touch him on American soil. He always wanted a cartel like mine. Now he imports and exports our goods because that’s all he has left. I had my men make a deal with him, as a show of good faith.”

“Wait, wait, why would you work with someone you screwed?”

“He’s got a lot of friends in America. We had no choice if we wanted to make money. He’s wanted me dead for a long time. He’s your client, gringo.”

James clasped his hands behind his back. “Why are you telling me this? Why would it matter?”

“Sometimes people need to know what they’re doing. No, you don’t care, but if you kill me, Romero controls the supply and the means to transport it. He’ll be the most powerful man since Pablo Escobar. What do you think will happen to the people of this country?”

James raised his eyebrows. Was the brutal drug lord really trying to moralise with him? To pretend that his war was for the greater good of the people of Mexico.

“They’ll suffer like never before.”

“They suffer under your war already.”

Quezada clenched his jaw. “You’re being played for a fool. Do you know who takes over if you kill me?”

“Who cares?”

“Fernando Gomez. One of my lieutenants. No, you don’t care?” Quezada allowed his gun arm to drop to his side. “Another lieutenant of mine, Alex Parejo, he told me who put him into that position. Fernando is already prepared to take Santa Maria de Guadalupe today. He was put there by your friend.”

“What?” James exclaimed.

“Another gringo. An American. They met in Puerto Vallarta. I had him followed.”

James stiffened up. He didn’t need a calculator to tell him which American Quezada referred to. He distrusted Blake even more than he distrusted his boss Gallagher. Could Blake be playing everyone for a fool? Had he turned traitor?

“So, what are you going to do, gringo?”

James gulped. “Let Jessi go.” His voice came out weak and frail.

“I have bigger problems than her now. The original plan is not so important. Montoya is a cockroach to me. But why should I do something for you? You’ve already caused enough damage.”

“Please.”

Quezada cackled. “Oh, you care for her. The gringo mercenary. If you care about her or the people of Mexico, you’ll work with me.”

James hesitated. How could he help the man he’d been hired to kill? It could cost him everything if he tried to play both sides. He wasn’t sure which side deserved his support now. But he had to save Jessi. She was innocent in all this. Quezada wouldn’t lose any sleep over killing her.

Rays of light illuminated the disturbances of dust swirling through the air as the sun climbed up into the sky. “What do you want for her?”

“Kill Roberto Romero. Your bosses are using you like a tool. You think killing me will make the world a better place? Romero will control every cartel and he’ll be the next Escobar. He’s the biggest threat in the Americas. With me, you keep things in balance. After I’ve destroyed Montoya, I won’t move any further.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Answer now, or she dies.”

James looked away from Quezada and bit his lip. The worst decision of his life had fallen before him. His professionalism contrasted with his feelings, feelings he shouldn’t possess. He took one last look at the weeping Jessi.

“I’ll do it.”

“Good. James Winchester.” He scoffed. “The gringo.”

James nodded, his stomach tight as a knot. He knew nothing about Romero or whether Quezada

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