Page 38 of Shadow Man
It hits us out of nowhere—an unforgiving beast made of steel and concrete. The steering wheel is ripped out of my hands as the Renault starts to flip, but there’s only one name on my lips as we hit the central reservation with our asses in the air…
And then everything goes dark.
15
Joseph
Dante’s jet lands on a private strip, ten miles south of Cartagena. Carlos Gomez is there to greet me in person, flanked by ten of his men and a very young woman in a black mini and four-inch heels, who’s clearly high on his merchandise. Her noisy giggles turn to hiccups as soon as I appear in the doorway of the aircraft. My expression tends to steal the humor from any situation.
“El Asesino,” cries the Colombian with his arms out wide, acting like he owns the fucking world and isn’t temporarily renting it. “¿Quiubo, parce?Welcome back.”
He looks as thrilled as he sounds.
Cunt.
Gomez is a softer, weaker version of his father, with thin gray hair and a double chin to compliment his gut. Gomez Senior was a loyalteniente,lieutenant,to Dante during his reign here, eventually taking three bullets to the back of his head for the privilege while out for dinner with his favorite mistress. We both mourned him and vowed to avenge him, but in the end Eve Santiago had that pleasure.
Regrettably, Carlos fell a long way from the Gomez family tree—namely, the next fucking orchard. The first chance he got, he screwed Dante over by forming allegiances with Dante’s brother, Emilio.Wrong decision, asshole.Dante’s been making him pay for it ever since. When he steps forward to shake my hand, his slight limp is courtesy of my boss’s knife play. The three missing fingers on his left hand were all my doing, though. I wasn’t going to let Dante have all the fun.
“Gomez,” I say coolly. “It’s been a while.”
I make sure to give the scars an extra squeeze to let him know that forgiveness is still a couple of decades away. I don't trust him an inch. Never have. Never will. His dogs are more fucking intelligent than him. The first chance he gets, he’ll be going for a double strike against us.
“Señor Santiago advised me you might be needing some assistance during your trip.”
“Just your car for now.” I retrieve my hand and gesture to the line of black jeeps and SUVs parked in front of me. “Give me the keys. When I need guns, I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re here on your own?” I watch him angle his head to the empty steps behind me. The glint in his eye makes me want to do a number on the remaining two fingers.
“I’m not on a vacation, Gomez.”
His fake smiles drops. “I’ve requested a meeting with the heads of all ofLos Cinco Grandes. Three or four nights from now on neutral territory.”
“Send me the address. I’ll be there.”
“And how exactly is Señor Santiago planning to unite the families from his island in the Pacific?” he says slyly. “There haven’t been peace talks for months, only war, especially from the thieving tyrant, Fernandez.” He spits on the ground to show his dislike of his rival.
“You seem to have forgotten I have my own powers of persuasion.” I drop my gaze to the remains of his hand.
“¿Quiubo, parce?” he says again, laughing nervously. “I have no doubt that you can help bring about a peace to these petty squabbles.”
“No doubt,” I repeat icily, glancing back to the vehicles. “I have personal business to attend to first. I’ll drive myself.”
“Of course, the woman… No chauffeur?” His eyebrows arch in surprise.
“Not today.” Any driver of his is a spy I can do without.
“But we brought you a present to enjoy on your journey.” He beckons to the young woman. “Luciana here will make youverycomfortable. You have my personal guarantee.” His accompanying laughter makes me want to take a knife to his other hand.
“Not interested,” I say, nodding at the woman who can’t hide her look of relief.
I know her type. She’s a prostitute from the banks of the River Caguán, most likely transported here for Gomez’s amusement. The sex trade is legal in this country, yet cocaine production and whoring go hand in hand, and it makes the legalities questionable at best. The last thing she needs is an asshole like me pawing at her. The last thing I need is for her to run back to Gomez with a pretty mouth full of complaints. I’m selective who I fuck these days. A little too selective sincespun goldcast a spell over my dick.
“Very well.” With a forced smile, Gomez hands over a set of keys. “It’s the one on the left. You have my number…”
Damn right I do.
“And here is the girl’s address.” He hands me a piece of paper.What is it with all those fucking pieces of paper? “She owns a bar in Santa Perdida, which is an hour north of here. You’ll find the GPS codes already programmed in.”