sent him to Texas when he was ten years old to learn the business and to eventually run the operation from the other side of the border. He was now twenty-five, and one of the most feared men in the Austin area. Salazar was in charge of millions of dollars’ worth of meth and cocaine that was delivered from Mexico. It was his job to distribute it around Texas, and up into the rest of the country as well. He was as ruthless as his father and didn’t tolerate any threat to his business.
He was at the top of the pile when it came to the US operations. He also kept a close eye on the lieutenants, hitmen, and falcons under him. He had lieutenants who were ultimately responsible for supervising the hitmen and falcons, who could also carry out some low-profile executions without his permission, but nothing happened in his organization without Salazar’s knowledge.
The hitmen were important to the operation because they were the security for the cartel. Their main task was to defend their turf from rival groups, police, and the military. They stole, kidnapped, extorted, and assassinated where necessary to keep the cartel running smoothly.
The falcons were at the bottom of the cartel hierarchy. They were the eyes and ears for the gang and reported back to the hitmen and lieutenants the activities of their rivals, police, and others who were actively working against them.
Salazar didn’t usually communicate with falcons directly, he had lieutenants who listened to their grievances and dealt with their issues. But today, he’d agreed to meet with this particular falcon because of what had happened a few months ago in Venezuela.
“Are you sure?” Salazar asked.
“Positive. She had a meeting in Austin with that pain-in-our-ass DEA asshole Calum Branch, and some FBI shithead as well. She was there at least four hours. They’re already trying to crack down on our operation here in Austin because of what happened in Venezuela. The last thing we need is that bitch telling them anything else.”
Salazar leaned back in his chair and eyed the low-level minion in front of him. He hadn’t been opposed to the hijacking scheme because it was a means to an end. Namely, getting rid of Hugo Lamas, who’d been a pain in his father’s ass way before he’d been thrown in jail. The Sinaloa Cartel hated the Cartel of the Suns. And anytime they could take out one of those assholes was a good day.
It was unfortunate that they’d lost six of their own in the process, but he’d had a hand in personally picking the men who’d carried out the hijacking. He’d chosen them because they were expendable. He didn’t mourn their deaths, but he didn’t want any more of their brethren to die as a result either. Their deaths were honorable, but their sacrifice shouldn’t bring negative attention to the cartel.
If Sinaloa had additional pressure put on their operation here in Austin, it wouldn’t be good. They were already losing too much product because of crackdowns at the border, and he couldn’t afford to lose any more.
“Bring her to me,” Salazar told the only member of the group to survive the hijacking. “I’ll figure out what she knows…and if she needs to die.”
“But I can take her out easily. One tap to the head and she won’t be an issue anymore,” the falcon protested.
Salazar raised one eyebrow. “Are you disagreeing with my order?” he asked in a deadly even tone.
“No, of course not.”
“Good. Then go get her and bring her here. I want to talk to this bitch myself. I’ll find out what she told the Feds. If she needs to disappear for good, I’ll make the order for that to happen.” He leaned forward and pinned the falcon with a deadly gaze. “You aren’t a hitman. I’m giving you this task as a reward for your loyalty, and because of the good job you did in fooling everyone in Venezuela. But when Gillian Romano is standing in front of me, I expect her to be unharmed. Understand me?” His threat was clear.
The falcon grimaced, but nodded. “Si, Senor.”
“Good. Now get the fuck out.”
Salazar had forgotten about the falcon as soon as the door to his office closed. He had more important things to worry about than one fucking woman. Like the twenty-five-million-dollar shipment of cocaine that was supposed to arrive that afternoon.
Chapter Sixteen
The last two weeks had been idyllic for Gillian. The only thing that would’ve made them better was