“No shit,” Ice whispers back.
“Eight of them and six of us. I like those odds,” Diablo mutters.
“You three, circle around to the other side. We need to take them all out at once, before they have a chance to hand off the girls.” I wait until Ice, Bones, and Tank slip deeper into the brush before turning to Diablo and Fang.“When the others are in place, we move.”
My heart thunders as I wait for the birdcall from Ice. We’ve done this dozens of times before, but there’s always a chance shit can go tits up in seconds.
I pull my piece from my cut. It’s already locked and loaded, ready to kill. My fingers itch to pull the trigger. These fucks won’t know what hit them.
The call of a yellow-crowned night heron cuts through the air. One of the cartel’s men snaps his head up, listening. A second later, all hell breaks loose.
Gunshots blast, sending the pungent smell of cordite into the air. Three men drop immediately. The fourth is down a split second later.
The girls scream and run into the trees. One trips over a gnarled root, but another turns back to save her. She grabs her fellow captive’s hand, and they race off together.
“Go after them,” I tell Fang.“We got this.”
Fang rushes after the girls, leaving the rest of us to deal with the last four men.
I lose track of one of the guys but manage to bring down another. Two more go down as Ice and Tank emerge from the trees.
“One went AWOL,” I yell.
“I got him,” Diablo growls before taking off into the swamp.
“Let’s help Fang round up the girls. They bolted when we started shooting.” I lead the way as Ice, Tank, and Bones fall in behind me.
Fang’s got two girls by the hands.“Estas segura con nosotros.”
“Quién eres?” one asks.
“Estamos aquí para salvarte,” Fang says, trying to reassure them that we’re the good guys.
“Where are the others?” I demand.
“Couldn’t catch them.”
“They’ll die if we don’t find them tonight.”
“You go that way,” Diablo points at a faint trail through the bushes.“I’ll try over there.”
“Meet back at the shack. And hurry. We don’t know if the cartel has anyone else out here watching their backs.”
I follow the trail through the darkness, shocked to stumble onto a road. Headlights cut through the night.
“Fuck!” I dive into the bushes, hoping they didn’t spot me.
As a nondescript white van rolls past, I wait. When its red brake lights flash, I slowly pick my way closer. Two cartel men climb out of the van. They must be the transportation for the girls.
“Dónde están esos pendejos con las chicas?” the first asks before spitting on the ground.
“No lo sé pero odio los pantanos,” the second replies.
My Spanish isn’t fluent by any means, but I know enough to guess they’re waiting for the girls to arrive. Well, they’re about to be disappointed.
Before I can warn my guys, the crack of branches signals their approach.
“Hola, José. Eres tu?” the first man calls. When he doesn’t get a response, he grounds out the cigarette he just lit and grabs a rifle from the front seat. He whispers to his buddy,“Cuida mi espalda.”Watch my back.
