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We'd split up. I was with Kell, Marshall was greasing the government wheels and Matthew was on stand by in Mexico City for contingencies, also monitoring the cartels. How he did this, I'm not sure, but he had Robert De Marco's approval--- and that meant access to the whazoo super computer that had been Jared Patrick's.

We hired a taxi to take us to Senora Nemesio's hacienda in Tapeapulco. I expected scenery similar to Teotihuacan, jungly, desert. Pyramids and ruins, adobe, city, not sure what I was expecting.

The city was older than the areas of Mexico City I was familiar with. Trees lined the streets which were conveniently paved, or not depending on the mood it seemed. The water here was said to be contaminated and we were advised to drink only bottled water. Kell had brought ours from home. He didn't trust the vendors.

I studied the landscape as carefully as I could, looking for defenses, opposition. I figured both Maximiliano and Roberto would have guys guarding, or at least on the look out. But we saw no evidence of this.

However, it was a sleepy side of town, overgrown, and close knit. Her home was prestigious the way you might expect. More like my folks home, in the middle of someplace you wouldn't think it to be. It was unguarded.

Kell had cut his hair short. It was darker than I'd ever seen it and sleek, which I'd also never seen. He had a rat's nest the last time we were together. His facial hair was very--- typical, very Spanish if you must know, and his sunglasses labeled him the thug he was role playing. Except he reminded me: this wasn't play.

He kept saying it. This is serious. I've been involved with cartels before. Depending on who you're dealing with this could be serious.

Yeah. I get it.

And we were waltzing right in under the radar.

An older woman answered the door, but with just a few introductory words, it became obvious that she was not the Senora we were looking for. For a split second, I had the sinking feeling we were in an assisted living facility. But we weren't. She let us in.

The hacienda was nice inside. In a grandmotherly sort of way.

I waited next to Kell, who bounced on his heels inside the now closed door, eyes peacefully, deceptively tranquil, hands clasped over each other in front of him. A few moments later we were shown to a room.

"How nice to meet you, Mr. Stryker." Uh-oh, this was a male voice if I'd ever heard one. And I realized Senora Nemesio may have told somebody, perhaps even been intercepted, except my guys on the scene had said no.

But it was a woman who greeted us. She was of medium build, not portly, not thin, not tall, definitely holding her weight like a pro wrestling champ. She wore an exercise outfit, bundling her into spandex which managed to be flattering, while at the same time being distinctly revealing of her wrinkled skin. I held out my hand, her grip was firmer than Mutt's.

"Senora Nemesio?"

She laughed. "You were expecting a more grandmotherly woman? And you're wondering why I didn't keep Felicity, being in the kind of shape I'm in? I'll tell you." She had led us through the house to the patio overhung with bamboo and palms, and a pool outside. Chairs and tables dotted the pristine overlook. Like a tiki hut. "This is no place for a child to be raised. My husband and son were and still are dangerous men. We've lived our lives this way, and will till we die. I'm glad you have her. It is where she belongs."

"Good to know," Kell said succinctly. "Apparently, you're a business woman, and you're familiar with how we do business. Shall we get right to it?"

Aubrey (Axis Rising)Where stories live. Discover now