The Bee's Knees

Mexico

One Month Later

Ghost had set up a temporary base in a small compound in Mexico with a local division of Mexican Special forces. Ghost hated Mexico. Everything about it, from the sounds, the smells, the language and the dry heat of the desert, made his nerves scratch through his skin.

Ten years previous, Ghost had been in Mexico, about 100 miles from his current location. He'd barely made it out alive, a broken shell of a man. After the murder of his family, he'd returned with vengeance in mind and had systematically destroyed Manuel Roba's cartel from the ground up, before brutally ending the piece of shit.

The memories still plagued him in his nightmares, now a Ghost of his former self. The man he once was, broken and scattered, before being laid to rest within a locked box, well hidden within his Ghost shell. Now being back here, the echoes of Simon Riley called out to him in fear and panic.

Ghost had joined with the team of special forces to track and take down a cartel group, smuggling weapons, drugs and people, across the US border. Ghost knew only too well, how vicious cartels were and the savagery with which they operated, having no regard for the lives they destroyed. 

Ghost and a small team had witnessed this first hand when they'd found the mangled wreck of a refrigerated truck in the desert. The men had glanced at each other with dread as they prepared to open the back of the truck. They knew full well what they were about to find when they prized open the doors. 

The unfortunate soldier who'd opened the door collapsed in a dead faint as the stench overpowered him. Ghost had to turn away from the foul odour escaping from the truck, fighting back the rising bile, as he listened to the men retching and coughing.

The stench of death, caused gruesome images to flash through Ghost's mind. Images from distant memories that he fought so hard to keep from invading his mind as he struggled to maintain his composure. The men finally able to regain control of their own bodies, observed the sad sight of decomposing corpses of woman and children. More victims of the cartel.

Back at the compound, the men readied themselves to carry out re-con on two sites that the cartel members were working from. It was going to be a complicated mission, not just in taking out the cartel members who were heavily armed. But also in that there was a chance that some of their trafficking victims may be at the site. So precise preparation was necessary before they could make any moves.

Taking out the members themselves wasn't an issue, they knew that this alone would be fruitless as soon enough, someone else would step in and take over the operation. They needed to gather as much intel as possible from staking out the sites, and locate a route to obtain any intel contained within. It was essential to the mission, that they find out who was funding the cartel and who their buyers were in order to take down their corrupt business completely.

The re-con was indeed helpful, allowing the men to get a good sense of how many cartel members were stationed at each site, what their movements were and where exits and entrances were located.

Ghost knew he would have to find a way to get into the building undetected and scope out security and any physical intel sources. Sitting in a quiet area, Ghost radioed command of the plan and sat musing on the route for infiltration and options for execution. Thirty minutes later, his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

The display showed an unknown number, making his stomach sink. "Oh Fuck No" Ghost exclaimed opening the message.

"Hola señor fantasma. Cómo estás? Bxx"

"Why the fuck you contacting me? I told you to stay outta my way"

"Now now, Ghost man, mutual friend asked me to do some digging. Bxx"