while a pain in the ass, wasn’t an idiot. He knew that the music was winding down and that he was going to be the only one left without a chair. If he stopped Rapp and that created a backlash from the White House, he’d be crucified for not following orders to hand over authority. On the other hand, if he let Rapp walk, he could be charged as an accessory to the murder of two Mexican nationals.
Welcome to the current state of American politics, Rapp thought. Everyone who didn’t have a place at the very top of the political food chain was expendable. No loyalty. No gratitude. No courage. Braman was an arrogant prick looking to move up in the world, but there was nothing in his record that suggested he’d ever screwed his men in pursuit of that goal. He probably figured he’d been an honorable soldier in the war on drugs and didn’t deserve to be hung out to dry for something that wasn’t his fault.
And he was right.
Rapp passed silently by them, leaving bloody footprints on the concrete floor. He pushed through the door and felt the morning heat hit him. The sky was devoid of clouds and bleached yellow by the dust and the sun. Despite the situation, he had a sudden craving for an icy beer. Something to help him contemplate a future that was now so dark he couldn’t even penetrate its edges.
The DEA men spread out behind him, and for the better part of a minute he stood there listening to Thomas Braman desperately try to get someone to take his call. The man’s voice rose to a shout, dominating the small enclosure as Rapp watched the cartel’s surveillance drone circle overhead. Whoever was operating that plane had already been taking particular interest in this situation and now he had a blood-splattered man staring up at his cameras.
“Don’t even think about transferring me again,” Braman said. “If he’s in a meeting, get him out!”
This wasn’t how this was supposed to go down. He’d figured on waiting until they were on the dirt road leading out. There was a dry wash that he’d identified as being a perfect spot for what had to be done. He’d purposely bog the truck down, and then when the DEA men were gathered in a tight group looking at the buried tires, he’d make his move. It would be about as controllable a scenario as he could create.
Now, though, he had the drone overhead and the three DEA men standing right behind him. Braman, the most experienced, had a phone instead of a gun in his hand. A glance back confirmed that Holden Flores had his hands at his sides instead of on his weapon. The other DEA man still had the shotgun but was holding it across his chest aimed at the sky.
Bird in the hand.
“Don’t hang—!” Braman fell silent for a moment. “Shit!”
Rapp waited until the man was consumed with redialing before he turned, walked a few steps, and slammed a fist into Flores’s jaw. The kid crumpled, but before he even hit the ground, Rapp had drawn his Glock and pumped a round into the sternum of the man holding the shotgun. He jerked back and fell, his weapon bouncing from his hands and spinning through the dirt.
Braman dropped his phone and went for his pistol, but then went down when he took a bullet to the chest.
Rapp kicked the weapons away from the men and surveyed their condition. Flores was out like a light, so Rapp started with the first man he’d shot, rolling him on his stomach and using the flex cuffs hanging from his bulletproof vest to bind his wrists behind him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Braman starting to reach for his weapon.
“Don’t do it, asshole . . .”
When he didn’t listen, Rapp shot him in the ribs. That seemed to put an end to his plans.
The drone swooped in even closer when Rapp started dragging the men inside the building. Flores didn’t regain consciousness, but the other two moaned and swore under their breath at the pain of being moved. The ballistic vests had saved their lives, but between them they had more than a few broken ribs and probably one cracked sternum.
Braman was last, and by the time Rapp dropped him into a puddle of blood in the interrogation room, he’d gotten enough wind back to make some fairly graphic accusations regarding Rapp’s mother. He