A sad smile crossed Alejandro’s weathered face, tanned and rugged from time spent working under the Mexican sun. “My brother Julio was the brightest of all of us. He took after our mother Juana, a gentle soul. Julio loved your mother Lola with the consuming passion of youth and risked everything for her. His rejection of our father’s illegal business cut deeply and scarred our family. Julio was a good man, making his own way in this world, but always looking over his shoulder.”
“Until Felipe found him.”
“Sí. So, are you and Miguel in Mexico of your own volition?”
“Sort of. Lola married again and had three children. She, her husband, and oldest son were killed by the authorities because they were planning to launch a domestic terror attack on America. Her younger children, Axis and Axalia Anderson, escaped from a mental institution. They knew about me and discovered my identity. I’m afraid they’ve dragged your father into their scheme, whatever it might be.”
“My father is too smart to fall for tricks and schemes.”
“They told him about me. I’m bait.”
“And Miguel?”
“Refused to let me face this by myself.”
“An honorable man. Julio would have liked him.”
“There’s something you should know about me. I’m a DEA agent.”
Alejandro stopped to stare at her. “And what do you intend to do about my father?”
Julia fingered a low-hanging branch of a mango tree. “I honestly don’t know.”
The sun dipped low in the sky, bathing it in warm gold hues. Despite the pleasantness of the visit, Alejandro politely requested that they continue their journey to the Escobar compound. They switched from the van to a Grand Cherokee and restocked their ammunition. Alfredo had also acquired four high-powered AK-47s.
“We need to be prepared for any eventuality,” he explained. “We are still four hours away from the General’s land.”
The rest revived Miguel, and he thanked the Escobars for their hospitality with warm affection. He spoke to them in their native language, earning their respect. Miguel promised he would keep Julia safe and earned a kiss from her. She bid farewell to her newfound relatives and prayed she’d see them again.
Traveling in the Grand Cherokee was far more comfortable than in the back of the van. Julia nestled against Miguel’s good side and watched the countryside fly by until darkness fell. Exhausted from the long day and lulled by the heat of Miguel’s body, Julia closed her eyes and dozed off.
“Wake up, Jules.”Miguel gently nudged her. “We’re here.”
She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Julia blinked from the harsh glare of a multitude of floodlights.
“We’re surrounded,” Miguel murmured. “Hide your pocketknife but leave your gun on the floorboard.”
Julia obeyed, and in the next minute, Alfredo and Juan yanked them roughly from the Grand Cherokee. The telltale click of many firearms alarmed Julia, but her training kicked in as she assessed the situation. Though she and Miguel weren’t restrained with zip ties, if they made any threatening moves, they’d be instantly shot. Multiple times.
Bad. This is bad.
The men shouted taunts at them as Alfredo and Juan forced Julia and Miguel to move forward with their hands on their heads. They jammed their AK-47s into their backs, harder than necessary, considering how Julia and Miguel saved their lives earlier that afternoon. Some of the men spat on them and called her and Miguel filthy names. Someone tried to trip Miguel, but he grabbed him and threw him down onto the dirt instead. Juan let out an inappropriate chuckle.
Another man broke rank and yelled, “You killed my brothers!” He slammed his fist twice into Miguel’s stomach.
Miguel doubled over, gasping.
The man then approached Julia and drew back his fist, intending to strike her. Miguel gripped his arm, wrenched it out of its socket, and yanked it back between the man’s shoulder blades. The man gritted his teeth but didn’t cry out in pain.
“Fool!”Miguel hissed in Mexican.“She’s General Escobar’s granddaughter and my woman. Touch her, and I’ll cut your heart out of your chest.”He tossed him into the crowd of men who’d gathered around them.
Julia’s heart palpitated. God, she loved Miguel!
After that, the taunting and name-calling ceased. The atmosphere shifted to grudging respect.
Up ahead light spilled from a long and narrow rectangular building. It silhouetted a commanding figure dressed in a military uniform. He stood with his legs slightly apart. Both hands rested on weapons attached to a utility belt around his waist. His stern expression raised the hair on the nape of Julia’s neck.
General Escobar. My grandfather.
