Tijuana Nights (The Nights Series Book 1) (8 page)

I opened up some of the files, and found legal documents about his wife trying to leave him under the premise of rape and abuse. My mouth went dry as an amateur shot video shot through a grimy window opened up of a brightly lit kitchen. My eyes were riveted to the screen as the sound of crackly cries came through the speakers. I swallowed hard. The wife ran into the kitchen, closely followed by Alicio. She stumbled, just about whacking her head on the counter, but managed to miss. Alicio shouted in muffled Spanish at her. I watched as he lifted his sobbing wife from the floor, and backhanded her across the face. She hit the bench facedown with a thud. Disbelief and anger ripped through me. I felt bile begin to rise from my stomach and into my throat. And even more so when I realised what he was going to do. He lifted her skirts, and rammed himself into her.

I stopped the video, bile reaching to mouth, and I took a deep breath to help swallow it down. Tears were streaming down my face. I looked around River’s living room, bathed in warm sunlight, tried to centre myself. I couldn’t watch any more. He was a diabolical and evil man. I sniffed, and wiped my tears away, pleased that I had never suffered anything like that. My heart went out to his wife. I hoped that she wasn’t in the crossfire when it came to the point of Alicio’s demise.

More video footage was sitting in the folder, but I hesitated to open it. I swallowed the awful taste in my mouth, and opened another one. This was shot inside some sort of caged area. Looking at it closer, I could see people inside the cages. “Oh no,” I murmured.  Alicio came on screen, talking to the camera. He walked over to one of the cage doors, opened it up, and ripped a blonde teenage girl out through the cage door. She was white with fear, and whispering her pleas. Some of the words met my ears, and I could tell she was American. I skipped the video a bit, and saw the horrific images of the girl unconscious and her face covered in blood, lying on a concrete floor. Anger flared in me. I skipped forward a bit again, and found the images of Alicio raping her.

I stopped the video, shocked.

In Gabe’s notes, he’d written that most of the time the hostages don't escape with their lives, but that they were held so that their other family member would do their bidding, whether they were scientists, traffickers, or the like. Gabe’s notes also showed that the drug industry was a lot bigger than I had ever imagined. They explored every means possible to export their product into the US, and also to other countries if they could. The US was their biggest market though. I swallowed thinking of all the drugs on the streets there, addicting and influencing young minds.

Looking back at the photo of Alicio made me want to be sick again, but I did my best to compartmentalise it. He was the man that had been entrusted by the cartel to look after these hostages, and he had raped and abused them, in the same way as he treated his wife. Then once they were no longer of use to the Cartel, he disposed of them. I knew that shortly Alicio's life would be over, at the hands of Chase, and for some reason that gave me a little solace.

"You finished yet?" River asked from the living room doorway. I knew that he had some surveillance stuff planned for us.

I shook my head. I didn't think I'd ever finish reading the pile of files that Gabe has transferred for me. There was so much information, an overwhelming amount.

"Well, if you don't feel like reading or watching anything else, you can go get yourself ready, and hop in the car. Car – not truck. Dress nicely, high heels and a dress if you can manage that. Oh, and a dark wig. We're off to socialise."

Something about the way River winked at me with a cheeky grin sent butterflies soaring within me. I knew that this was not just having a lovely glass of wine on the terrace or anything. He wanted me for a job.

* * *

Dusky pink light lit the inside of River's sleek black Mercedes. If anyone took any notice of River in this country, they would probably think that he was one of the El Diablo Cartel from the cars he drove and the confidence that he exuded.

I felt damn awkward in a dress, like it was too short. I tugged self-consciously at the chiffon fabric of the skirt to encourage it further down my leg, and each time, I heard a chuckle come from River's side of the car.

He rested his hand on mine. "Calm down and relax Mack. Nothing is going to happen to you when I'm around. Just stick close to me tonight and you'll be fine." He squeezed my hand reassuringly before moving it back to the steering wheel.

I pursed my lips, and glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked good in a tux, even if he was wearing a not-quite-traditional steel grey shirt under the black jacket. I licked my lips, and returned my eyes to the road. We were on the outskirts of Tijuana city now, and the darkness of the night was finally starting to drown out the dusky light.

The houses here were so different to those in England, especially in the poorer areas. They looked more like tin shacks with mismatched, multi-coloured roofs, as opposed to actual liveable dwellings. I could see children running, soccer balls being kicked along the dirty streets as they probably went home to have their dinner and go to bed. Bed sounded like a damn good option right about now.

When we entered the central business district, people flocked on the streets. Some of them dressed particularly well - like River and me – some casual, out for a good night. Some women were cheap and dirty looking in see-through clothing that left little to the imagination. I assumed they were looking for their night's 'work'.

River pulled the car down a side alley and slowed to a stop, turning to me. "Before we go inside, I want you to be packing."

"Packing?" I repeat, searching his eyes. Oh god. He wanted me armed. I swallowed. He opened up the centre console and pulled out a black belt with two parts, ribbon thin, and held it to me. It had a small gun attached to it. I gave him a look of disbelief as I took it from his hands. I stared down at it. “Um, where exactly do you expect me to hide this?" I said as I looked down at my dress. It looked like something out of a bondage and discipline book.

"Give it here." He took it from my hands. "Now, un-belt yourself and hitch up your dress to your waist."

I froze. "Couldn't we have done this at home?"

He shrugged “I’m sorry. We could have, but it’s not exactly a comfortable thing to have strapped between your legs. I thought this would be easier. Now get on with it - we need to go inside."

I swallowed. All my self-consciousness went out the window as I heard the urgency in his words, and I shuffled in an unlady-like fashion to get my dress up to my waist. River's hands were cool against my skin as he clipped the belt around my waist and the other part around my upper thigh. I pursed my lips, and my breath hitched slightly as his fingers lightly brushed the skin of my inner thigh as he deftly tightened the thigh ribbon. River started the engine again, and we took off around the corner. The gun sat frigid against the warm skin of my leg, and I rearranged the dress before River pulled the car up in front of a large building with a red carpet rolled out the front and turned to me with a reassuring smile.

I got out the car. It felt awkward, and I was about to readjust myself when River came around to my side of the car and took my arm in his. He paused a moment to hand the keys to a valet boy, and got a ticket in return. And then we were off. Showtime.

"Relax, Mack, you look good." He interlaced his fingers with mine as we walked confidently up the steps to the doorman. "Lucero Marquez," he said confidently.

We waited while the doorman looked the name up, and when he nodded his confirmation, we were ushered inside. We followed the rest of the people in, and found ourselves inside a lavish ballroom.

"Wow," I muttered under my breath. "I am so not dressed for this." But then as I looked around, I saw most of the other women were in clothing that they could move in, much like me. Then I saw that the dancing wasn't your traditional English Ball type; it was Latino. A thrill raced up my spine, and I couldn't help but grin up at River. "Wow," I said again.

He grinned, and squeezed my hand. "I thought you'd like it." He tugged me forward, and we stepped towards the dance floor.

Naturally, I worried about the gun strapped to my thigh and the possibility of it going off. Damn, I hoped River was careful.

He swung me out onto the dance floor with the crowd, and I felt the rhythm of the music throb through me, and my feet fell into time with his.

"Lovely," he whispered in my ear. "Now, we’re here to observe Nicandro Valdez. He's a political player, works for the Cartel. He's also our next mark." He swung me out, and my eyes scanned the crowd of people. "I'll show you an image of him in a moment when we go up to the bar for a drink. There may also be other people here you’ll recognise, and it's possible that Javier will be here."

My stomach dropped, and an icy chill flooded through my veins. "Carmen?" I whispered.

"No." River smiled. "Not tonight. I have it on good authority that she will be thoroughly distracted."

I pulled back at looked into River's amused eyes. "Whose authority?"

"Gabe’s." River's eyes twinkled. "He's off to keep her company tonight."

"Gabe?" I mouthed, looking up at River as he grinned down at me. "My god," I whispered. "How?"

River’s lip curled in amusement. "Turns out that Carmen has a certain liking for Caucasian men... and when her husband has other plans, she uses a service that provides them for her. Gabe hacked in, and got himself a date for tonight."

I shook my head with disbelief, and couldn't wipe the gleeful smile from my face. “Is he going to kill her?”

“No, not likely. He’ll just keep her out of our hair for the evening,” River answered.

“He’s going to sleep with her?”

"Whatever it takes to get the job done," River murmured. "Now, come get a drink. We need to mingle." He led me off the dance floor, and we walked over to check his jacket, then made our way through the groups of people milling around the bar.

River ordered two glasses of champagne, and passed me one.

He leaned against the bar, and a little towards me. "Now, back to Nicandro, he's standing over there next to the woman in the red dress." He kind of gestured with his glass giving direction to a tall, handsome man across the bar.

I raised my eyebrows at River, and took a sip of my drink, sweeping my eyes back towards Nicandro. He didn't 'look' like a bad man, but I guessed he was probably a right royal asshole like the rest of the El Diablo Cartel. Nicandro was smooth, and radiated confidence. I imagined he could probably sell ice to an Eskimo if he put his mind to it. "What did you say he did again?"

"Strategic Communications. He's the man behind the politicians, the police, and any other official, both here and in the States." River smiled. "Quite the charmer isn't he?"

I nodded dumbly, mulling over what River had said and kept an eye on Nicandro. He was the man behind everyone official, meaning he was also the man that probably paid everyone off to turn a blind eye to the Cartel's activities.

It made me angry that the Cartel were never held accountable for any of the awful and inhumane things that they did, like kill a dozen beautiful, innocent women. And this Nicandro was one of the reasons for it.

I sank the rest of the champagne and handed my glass to River, who looked at me in surprise. "Another?"

River spoke to the barman and handed me another glass of champagne. I took it, and wrapped my fingers around the stem. I needed a cigarette. River said that we were here to observe the man and watch from afar. Well, I didn't feel like watching from afar. I felt like wrapping my hands around the smarmy prick's neck and throttling him. Unconsciously, I took a step toward Nicando.

River placed his hand firmly on my arm before I could move any closer. "Steady on, Mack. We are just doing a bit of observation on him."

I turned to River. "I need a fag and some air. Where's the nearest exit."

He led me around the bar towards a set of double doors that opened out onto a terrace. We stepped out into the warm evening air, and I passed River my drink so that I could open my clutch and look for the silver cigarette case. I snapped it open, pulled out a fag, lifted it to my lips, and lit it with the matching slender silver zippo.

I felt River's eyes on me, and turned to him. "Thanks," I muttered as he passed me my drink.  We walked across the terrace to the balcony, and looked down into the courtyard below.

"It's a beautiful evening," River commented as he leaned against the stone balcony and watched the people dancing inside.

Now that the nicotine was entering my bloodstream, I had calmed down a little. "It is." I smiled. I reached up and slightly adjusted the wig on my head. I could feel one of the pins digging into my scalp. Once again, I was wearing the Cleopatra-styled wig, the same one that I had worn to the club, as per River's direction. It looked good with the dress, I had to admit.

"It looks fine." River reassured me as he looked down at his empty glass. "I'm going to go and get another drink. Are you going to be okay out here for a few minutes?"

I nod. "Of course." I watched him disappear into the crowd of people, and turned to look out over the terrace. River was right. It was a gorgeous night. I could see stars twinkling through the haze, and I closed my eyes, enjoying the small breeze on the air. Doing reconnaissance wasn’t such a bad thing, even if we were reconning a nasty piece of work.