“There,” she said. “Better.”
“I can’t wait,” he said, clearly looking forward to what was coming next.
“Is everything ready?”
Nicolás nodded. “It is. We’ve already set up the online accounts. We’ll route the video through so many different layers that it will be virtually impossible for anyone to find the original IP address.”
“Good.”
“There’s already over five thousand viewers waiting for the event.”
“How interesting.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we have over one hundred thousand viewers,” Nicolás said. “People love this kind of stuff.”
“Go get dressed for the occasion, Nicolás.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once Nicolás had walked out, she approached Sophia. The teenager was crying, either from anger, pain, or confusion—the Black Tosca didn’t know.
“Where’s Leila? What have you done to her?” Sophia asked between sobs.
The Black Tosca didn’t reply right away, surprised by the question.
“So kind of you to worry about your friend, Sophia. You’re so very cute.”
“Where’s my friend?”
“She exchanged her life for yours, my dear.”
Ouch! From the look on her face, Sophia was buying it. There were only a few things in life the Black Tosca enjoyed more than torturing people. It was funny, really. Some people loved to take care of abused puppies; she, on the other hand, loved to manipulate others to the point of great emotional pain. Sophia had started crying again, which warmed the Black Tosca’s heart.
“She’s my best friend. She’d never do that,” Sophia moaned. But she didn’t sound convinced.
“Oh, but she did,” the Black Tosca said. “She did.”
Sophia’s tears were running freely down her cheek now. “Why would she do that?”
“I offered the deal to her first. And she took it.”
“What deal?”
“Oh my, Nicolás didn’t tell you about tonight’s event? I am so, so sorry. How rude of him.”
Sophia was afraid now; the Black Tosca could see she was trembling.
“In a few minutes, we’ll pour some gasoline onto your legs, arms, and torso, and then we’ll set you on fire for the world to see. How does that sound?”
From Sophia’s mouth came a weird, hideously inhuman shriek of pure emotional pain that caused every hair on the Black Tosca’s body to rise up in pleasure.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
San Miguel de Allende, Mexico
Impossible, Hector thought, recognizing Pierce Hunt as he rushed out of the house and into a waiting Toyota Land Cruiser.
“Who are these people?” his driver asked.
Hector’s eyes stopped on another man. Mr. Granger, you fucking traitor.
A man jumped out of the driver’s seat of the Land Cruiser and opened fire. Several rounds ricocheted off the armored windshield, and Hector ignored the scratches as he scanned ahead, trying to figure out how many enemy combatants he and his three men were up against.
For a moment, Hector considered ordering his men out of the vehicles but thought better of it. He grabbed the radio and calmly asked his men to disengage.
“Sir?” his driver asked him.
“This ain’t our business anymore. We sold the girl, remember? Turn around.”
The driver continued straight down the driveway. “But this is Pierce Hunt, sir!”
“I ordered you to disengage,” Hector screamed, as rounds continued to hit the Range Rover. “Do it now!” They were getting dangerously close. The Range Rovers were armored, but they weren’t built like tanks. The driver jerked the wheel to the left, but it was too late. Hector ducked behind the dashboard just as the windshield disintegrated and bullets peppered his driver’s chest.
Hector felt the Range Rover accelerate, and he braced for impact.
“Get down! Get down!” Hunt yelled as he pushed his daughter to the ground. He covered her body with his own as Egan and Carter joined their fire to Dante’s.
Two seconds later, Carter screamed at him at the top of his lungs to move. He was waving Hunt off. Hunt didn’t understand why Carter wanted him to move. He and Leila were in the safest place, right in front of the Land Cruiser and using its engine block as cover. Then, amid the chaos, Hunt understood. He heard an engine revving.
The Range Rovers.
Hunt forced his daughter up and saw one of the Range Rovers racing toward them. Leila was screaming, immobilized by fear. Summoning all his strength, Hunt pushed his daughter away just as the Range Rover crashed into the Land Cruiser.
Then something struck him hard in the back, throwing him from his feet and sending him sailing forward.
Carter started firing at the first Range Rover, concentrating his rounds just above the steering wheel, knowing the windshield would eventually crack. Half a second later, his magazine almost empty, he realized his rounds were getting through. The driver’s body jerked as round after round hit him in the chest, neck, and face. But instead of slowing down, the Range Rover accelerated.
He looked to his left where Hunt and Leila were. They were directly in the path of the incoming SUV.