“Thanks for the update, moron,” I snap at him.
The doors of the SUVs open and men start climbing out of it like a couple of clown cars. By the time the team is assembled, I count ten in all. Most of them are holding automatic weapons. Great. So much for home field advantage.
A man in a finely-tailored suit, tall and distinguished looking, leads the team toward us. He stops a few feet away and looks me up-and-down. I can feel the nervousness and tension radiating off both Michael and Ian behind me. It's coming off them in waves.
“You must be Trujillo,” I say.
“And I guess that makes you – sorry, what was your name again?”
His accent is rich and cultured. And honestly, he's kind of an unassuming looking man. I could see him being a professor or someone in academia. Somehow, I expected somebody rougher around the edges. A little fiercer looking.
“Anderson,” I say. “Brayden Anderson.”
Trujillo cocks his head and mulls it over, as if trying to recall my name. And then his eyes light up and he looks at me. He clearly recognizes the name. The man has done his homework.
“Anderson Development Enterprises,” he says.
“That would be me,” I say.
“Well, this is something of an honor,” he says. “You're a very important man.”
I shrug. “I suppose.”
He looks at me, narrowing his eyes for a moment. “I don't suppose you'd be interested –”
“Not a chance,” I say. “Where is Holly?”
Trujillo looks at me long and hard and then nods. “No, I suppose you wouldn't be interested,” he says. “I've heard about you Anderson boys though. That you're a bunch of uptight, self-righteous pricks.”
“I can confirm that,” Ian snaps.
“Shut up, Ian,” Michael hisses.
I shrug. “Yeah, that's probably not an unfair description,” I say. “Now, where's Holly.”
“All business,” Trujillo says. “I can respect that.”
Trujillo raises a hand and another man steps out of the vehicle, dragging a gagged Holly along with him. My heart floods with relief the moment I see her. She's not hurt. But, I can see the absolute terror on her face. She sees me and shakes her head, trying to tell me something with her eyes.
The man holding her is tall and fit. He's got short dark hair and tattoos that cover most of his neck. The similarities in the features are unmistakable though. This is Trujillo's son, Armando. He hauls her over to where we're standing, putting her right next to Trujillo and takes up a position behind her. Holly's eyes are shimmering with tears and she keeps shaking her head, trying to speak. The gag in her mouth, however, renders her words to nothing more than muffled grunts.
“Well, I've showed you mine,” Trujillo says. “Time for you to show me yours.”
I give him a smirk and raise the briefcase. Trujillo nods to one of his men who steps forward and holds his hands out to act as a table for me. I set the briefcase down on his arms and punch the combination into the lock. When it beeps softly, I open it up, revealing the pile of cash and the file folder of papers I'd had Adam put together for me.
“As agreed upon,” I say.
Trujillo nods and steps forward, reaching out and flipping through the pages of the dossier. A faint smile touches his lips and he nods. There is an almost nostalgic look on his face as he rifles through the papers. It's almost as if he is flipping through an old scrapbook or something. I don't know, maybe for a thug like him, it is.
“Great,” I say. “That should conclude our business together.”
I reach out and take Holly's hand and pull her over to me. Trujillo continues flipping through the pages, a nostalgic smile still upon his lips. Armando stares at me with eyes that are burning with the purest and deepest hatred I've ever observed in a human being before.
When the drug lord doesn't say anything else, I nod and turn away, starting to walk Holly back to my car.
“One more thing, Mr. Anderson,” Trujillo says.
I turn back to him. “Yes?”
“You'll need to leave my son's wife here.”
“That's not what we agreed upon.”
“No, but that's the current arrangement,” he says. “Certain details needed to be altered to satisfy all parties.”
I chuckle. “And how am I receiving any satisfaction from this arrangement?”
“Well, you get to live,” he says as if that is the most obvious thing in the world. “That counts for something, yes? Michael’s debt is cleared from my books, you get to keep your life, and Holly gets a wonderful new husband.”
I laugh and shake my head. “And we all live happily ever after.”
Trujillo smiles. “Now, you're getting the picture,” he says. “I guess you really are as smart as they say.”
“Smarter, actually,” I reply.
“Oh?” Trujillo asks. “How's that?”
I look at him a long moment, feeling a tension – and a certain level of excitement – surge through me. A small, devious grin tugs at the corner of my mouth. I say a silent prayer, hoping this all turns out right.
“Unicorn,” I say.
He looks at me strangely for a moment, but the light of understanding quickly shines in his eyes. He's a smart, careful man who has been in business a long time. And you don't get to be in his position without being able to figure out when trouble is coming and where it's coming from. He knows a code word when he hears it.
Unfortunately for him, the understanding dawned just a bit too late. He was so busy celebrating his double-cross and patting himself on the back for his deception that his arrogance didn't allow him to consider the possibility that I'd planned for his double-cross. He should have. He really should have. But, for whatever reason, he didn't. Call it stupidity. Call it arrogance. Whatever it is, he screwed the pooch and he's suddenly realizing it.
Lights flare all around the parking lot and a mass of black-clad, armored bodies start streaming in from everywhere.
“DEA,” come the echoed shouts of some.
“FBI,” yell others.
Almost immediately, the night air is split open by the sound of gunfire. Automatic weapons chatter long and loud and are quickly followed by the sound of men screaming in agony. Whose men, I'm not sure, because I'm already moving.
I grab Holly and start pulling her toward the brick warehouse – the designated safety spot. She runs alongside me, her hands still bound, the gag in place. We're nearly to the door when I feel something hammer into my leg, dropping me on the spot.
I grunt as my leg starts to feel like it's on fire. I look down and see the blood pouring out of the newly formed hole in my leg. Holly's eyes grow wide and her face streaks with tears as she looks at me. I shake my head and try to get to my feet, the sound of bullet slamming into the brick facade near us almost deafening.
“I'm fine,” I grunt. “Get inside. Get in now.”
Gritting my teeth, I get to my feet as quickly as I can and push Holly through the doorway, quickly following her inside. We dart across the darkened floor of the warehouse, heading for some offices on the other side, as the sound of the battle rages outside. Men are screaming and shouting, everything punctuated by the boom and chatter of gunfire.
We make it to the office and step through the doorway. I slump down against the wall and grab my wounded leg. Holly drops to her knees beside me and I quickly unbind her hands and remove her gag. She throws her arms around me, sobbing uncontrollably.
“It's okay,” I say through gritted teeth. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, asshole.”
I look up and see Armando standing there with a gun pointed right at my face. Holly falls onto her butt, a terrified squeak escaping her throat. A wry chuckle escapes my throat and I just shake my head.
“You got me,” I say. “Good for you.”
“I've been looking forward to killing you all day, motherfucker,” he sneers. “And later tonight, I'm gonna fuck that bitch over there within an inch of her life. The only downside to it all is that I can't make you watch me do it.”