Page 31 of K-9 Justice

“I can bring it up now.” Scarlett took her phone out from her back pocket and tapped both thumbs against the screen in a nonsensical order to anyone but her. “I’m repositioning the Pentagon’s satellite over the headquarter coordinates. Should take just a couple minutes.”

Scarlett’s phone chimed. “That’s not good.”

“That might be the worst response you could possibly come up with.” Jones had never been one to hide his criticism of others, but there’d been less of it since he and Maggie had gotten involved in the past year.

“Is there a problem with the satellites?” Ivy asked.

“No. I was able to reposition them without any problems.” Scarlett turned the phone to face Ivy. “This is the problem.”

Ivy lost control of her exhalation and took the phone from the security operative. “When were these images taken?”

“Less than an hour ago.” Scarlett looked to the men at her side. “SeemsSangre por Sangreisn’t on its last legs as our intel suggested. There has to be at least a couple hundred vehicles parked around that building.”

“It’s Sebastian.” Ivy didn’t know where the theory had come from. She felt it as nothing more than an instinct that had been trying to warn her over the past four days. But now, staring at the screen, she’d never been more sure of anything in her life. She handed Scarlett’s phone to Granger, who in turn tensed as though he’d watched someone kick his K-9.

“What do you mean, boss?” Cash took the phone next, refusing to allow his expression to give away the dread they were all feeling.

“There’s no way a low-level cartel soldier would have been able to round up this many recruits in a matter of two days. Not as long as upper management was still in control and as sure as hell not just because of me or Carson.” Energy she had no idea what to do with skittered through her as the pieces started falling intoplace. “This kind of power only comes from years of earning your subordinates’ respect, of sending warnings and exacting punishment when orders aren’t followed, and people try to get out.”

Granger seemed to grow another two inches. “You’re not saying—”

“We’ve been looking for the identity ofSangre por Sangre’s founder since we got into this mess. Carson was never able to get a face-to-face. Didn’t even have a clue as to his whereabouts or his name. Lieutenants were handed orders through coded messages and delivery services. Everything was hands-off. Every soldier we’ve gotten to talk has only called himel jefe, and I think now we know why.” She slapped her hand against the nearest window. The entire pane shook under the force, but it was nothing compared to the frustration burning through her now. “He was right there in front of his own soldiers the whole time. Pretending to be one of them, keeping an eye on them, making sure they did what they were told.”

“You mean this Sebastian, the guy who attacked you at the salvage yard, is actually the leader of the cartel?” Scarlett asked.

“It’s the only way this makes sense.” Ivy was still trying to process this new possibility. Her mind was working faster than her mouth. “He killed those women to send a message.No one escapesSangre por Sangre.But in the two years Carson has been undercover, no one was willing to offer information on a killer in the network who carved symbols into his victims’ backs. Because they knew who was responsible and what would happen if they identified their leader.”

“Wait.” Cash stepped forward. “Then doesn’t that mean this Sebastian would’ve had to have known that Carson was part of an undercover operation from the beginning? I mean, he couldn’t identify the top brass for two years.”

Acid pushed into her throat. Ivy raced for her cell phone and pressed the autodial to call Carson. Despite the lingering effects of their last conversation, she couldn’t let him go through with this. “He’s walking straight into a trap.”

* * *

This place wason the verge of total collapse.

Carson wasn’t sure the structure could take much more.

The multistory building had been designed to hide in plain sight. Meant to bring the cartel together, to pool resources and serve as a headquarters as efficient and deadly as the very people trying to destroySangre por Sangre. But a handful of explosives had broken it down, eroded its foundation and turned it into something worthless.

Not entirely unlike the emptiness coiling through him.

“Get rid of the vehicle.” He tossed the keys into the back seat to the youngest of the soldiers and shoved free of the SUV. Knowing Ivy, he was sure she’d have equipped her fleet with GPS and possibly even better countermeasures. But she had promised him a two-hour head start. He trusted her to keep her word—for now—but her patience would run out sooner or later.

There was a small chance Sebastian had managed to contact upper management since their showdown in the salvage yard, but the way Carson had left him unconscious and bleeding would buy him the time he needed to defend his case. At least, that was the hope.

The soldier positioned behind him had caught the keys and gotten out, letting Max hop down from the back driver’s-side door. In less than a minute, dirt kicked up behind the stolen vehicle but disappeared over the ridge of the man-made bowl acting as a defense system around the building. If anyone came close to this place, the cartel saw them coming. Especially now that upper management seemed to have called in every asset,soldier and resource on and off the books. “There a party I don’t know about?”

His female companion didn’t answer, taking the lead into the partially collapsed garage. In truth, she probably didn’t know what the hell was going on either. Both she and her younger associate had been apprehended downtown for a number of hours.

Though Ivy’s operative hadn’t said where. If the street dealers had been pulled off their corners, why had two soldiers been left behind? Carson’s curiosity had always gotten the better of him. He’d never been able to look an answer straight in the face without questioning the premise. It was one of the reasons the FBI had brought him on board. Why they’d trusted him to go into this assignment.

He followed in his companion’s tracks through debris, pools of water and what looked like pulverized cement toward the entrance into the building. One point of entry. One point of exit. He gauged the chances of being able to turn back now and scanned the property over one shoulder. They weren’t looking good. “So how did Socorro get the drop on you two?”

“It was stupid, really.” She led him into the building, and a sensation of being crushed took hold, with a healthy hint of resistance. Though his companion kept moving as though they couldn’t possibly die within these walls. “We were on a stakeout, and my phone died. We didn’t get the word about pulling back until it was too late.”

“A stakeout?” Carson hadn’t received a single order the past month, but apparently, that wasn’t the case for the rest of the soldiers he’d served beside. It didn’t make sense. Someone was still operating the cartel despite the limited resources and manpower, and yet they’d managed to pull this many soldiers out of thin air. His gut clenched tighter with each step he took deeper into the belly of the building. He tookthe time to memorize the route they were taking through the maze of corridors. Or maybeSangre por Sangrewasn’t as injured as upper management wanted everyone to believe. “Whereabouts?”

“Across the street from that Socorro bitch’s apartment. The one who runs the place.” She slowed her pace. Just enough to maneuver behind him in the narrow corridor. “We were told there was a potential rat in our ranks, and that he would be there. Our orders were to drag him back to face his punishment.”

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