Page 68 of Seal of Honor
Liam’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “I’m no one’s pet.”
“You certainly act like a rabid one,” Mena sneered. He looked at Liam with pure contempt. “You’re fired. Get out of my sight before I’m forced to put you down like the animal you are.”
For a moment, Liam simply stood there, his chest heaving as if he were trying to draw breath into lungs that refused to cooperate.
“Leave,” Mena said and pulled a gun from under his suit coat. He pointed it directly between Liam’s eyes. “Or die. Your choice, Señor Miller. I do not care either way.”
Liam backed up a step. Then another. After shooting a hate-filled look at Gabe, he disappeared into the house.
Audrey sagged against Gabe in relief, the adrenaline that had kept her frozen slowly ebbing away, leaving her knees weak. He wrapped a protective arm around her, but his attention remained on Mena.
“You just made a very dangerous enemy.”
“Who, Liam?” Mena scoffed and replaced his gun under his suit coat. “That’s absurd.”
“Every dog has its bite, Mena,” Gabe said cooly. “And you just backed yours into a corner.”
Mena waved away the warning with a dismissive flick of his wrist and sat back down, returning to the conversation as if he hadn’t just threatened a man’s life. “As I said, my ties with the EPC are tenuous—even more so now—and to keep them from attacking my business, I need to stay on their good side. I’m not convinced they are involved in Bryson’s abduction because this scheme is a little too advanced for them. Still, I did not want to take the chance of sending my men in to find him.”
He sent Gabe a sly smile. “But, you, Commander. I have no qualms about sending you. In fact, if the EPC kills you in the process, they will have removed a massive thorn from my side. It will effectively kill two birds with one stone, as you Americans like to say.”
Gabe straightened away from the table. “Sorry to disappoint, but that’s not happening.”
“All’s the pity.”
“And until you give me one good reason why you think Bryson is held there, I’m not sending my men within ten blocks of that neighborhood.”
“So cautious. An admirable quality in a mercenary.” He returned to his seat, picked up his wine, and studied Gabe over the rim. “Truthfully, you put Señor Miller to shame. I don’t suppose you would be interested…”
“No.” The finality in Gabe’s voice left no room for argument, and Mena laughed.
“No, I didn’t think so. All right.” Finishing his wine, he stood again and motioned them to follow him through the veranda doors into the library. He crossed to a huge, glossy desk and opened a drawer, drawing out a file.
“This contains everything I know about Bryson’s abduction from my research and from monitoring your team, Commander—and I might add your second-in-command, the invariable Travis Quinn, has been struggling to hold them together in your absence.”
Gabe’s face gave away nothing, no flicker of surprise or another emotion, but Audrey felt him tighten up at her side. Much like he’d done for her earlier, she reached down and grasped his hand in reassurance. He gave hers a small squeeze in return but then let go and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Get on with it,” he said, ice in his voice. “Stop yanking my dick and tell us what you know.”
“Ah-ha. I do love your frankness.” Mena laughed. “On with it, then. I know your team, such as it is, is searching for a man named Jacinto Rivera. I know they found nothing at his last known address and have no idea where else to look. I also know where to find him.” He tossed the file on his desk, and it skated across the polished wood.
Gabe caught it before it slid off the edge. “Where?”
“Patience. First, you need to know something about Jacinto Rivera. He is the younger, even less cultured brother of Angel Rivera, the EPC general of the Andean region, and their family tree reads like a horror story of depravity. Their father was a drunk who got himself killed in a bar fight ten years ago. Their mother was a whore murdered by a client a year after that, and their sister, also a whore, disappeared six years ago. God only knows what became of her.
“Their uncle was a disgusting rapist interested in small boys, and his son, Rorro, finally took revenge for all of Papa’s late-night visits last year. Rorro’s barely out of his teenage years, and he sliced his father up the likes of which I haven’t seen since La Violencia. He’s a mean little brat, not to be underestimated, and he’s attached to his cousin’s hip. Wherever Jacinto goes, Rorro’s not far behind.”
“So what does this have to do with Bryson?” Audrey asked.
Mena pointedly ignored her, instead addressing Gabe as he motioned toward the Bogotá map still laid out on the table on the veranda. “That house belonged to Rorro’s father. Your team cannot find it because Rorro’s father, in addition to being a pervert, was also a very accomplished racketeer and money launderer. Nothing he owned is in his name. Even for your analyst, Señor Physick, whom I’m told is one of the best available, it’ll take days to wade through all the paperwork, and that is only if your team is looking in Rorro’s direction. We both know Bryson doesn’t have days. As soon as they get the money, they will kill him. That is what I would do in their place.”
Audrey recoiled in disgust. He spoke of murder like crushing a cockroach without a second thought or regret. She looked at Gabe to see his reaction, but he was nodding in agreement.
God. Sometimes, when he was in warrior mode, he truly scared her.
Gabe opened the file in his hand, leafed through it, closed it again, and, to her surprise, passed it to her. She opened it and found all the pages written in Spanish.
Ah, that explained it.
