Page 32 of K-9 Justice

Carson scanned the hallway up ahead. They hadn’t come in contact with anyone else from the cartel, but his instincts said the moment they did, he was out of options. He slipped his hand into his opposite pocket, out of his companion’s sight, and secured Ivy’s pocketknife in his palm. He hadn’t meant to hold on to it, but the chaos of the two days since the battle in the salvage yard had prioritized more important things. “You got a name of this rat?”

“Funny you should mention it,” she said. “Because I was told it was you.”

She didn’t hesitate to make the first strike. His companion latched on to his shoulder and dug her fingernails into his skin. He arced the pocketknife toward her temple, but there was a reason she’d been recruited intoSangre por Sangre. Her background in street fighting had only served her when cornered. She blocked his attack. Carson took the opportunity to go for the other side of her head.

Max’s barks filled the hallway and threatened to trigger a ringing in his ears from her proximity. She waited for her turn to attack, but he wouldn’t give the order. Not yet.

His fist connected with the soft tissue of his companion’s cheekbone. He brought his heel up and kicked straight into her chest.

She fell back into the corridor wall, sliding down until she hit the ground. Out of breath.

“Come on, Max. We gotta get the hell out of here.” Carson didn’t wait for his companion to get back up. He bolted back the way they’d come, playing through each turn they’d taken in his head. Except there seemed to be no end to this place. He picked up the pace. The cartel’s top brass knew he’d handed intel from within the organization to Socorro. They knew about his relationship with Ivy. And if they were waiting for him at her apartment, they’d most likely intended to use her to punish him. “Where the hell is the exit?”

This was the way they’d come. He was sure of it. Only now…

A barrage of flashlights assaulted his vision as he took the next turn.

Carson pulled up short, though every cell in his body screamed for him to turn around. He brought one hand up to block the brightness of the flashlights, but his vision refused to adjust. It was no use. They had him pinned. Going back would only extend the inevitable.

Max made her discontent known almost instantly, her low growl threatening anyone who dared touch her handler.

“Dominic, you made it.” An outline shifted forward through the wall of individual lights. And presumably the weapons trained on him. Sebastian had somehow remained in one piece. Considering the beating Carson had given him, his quick recovery only credited the complicated design to the mask the cartel soldier seemed to wear. This was no ordinary recruiter for a drug cartel. Carson didn’t know what the hell he was. “We were getting worried.”

This was it. The moment he’d dreaded for two years. His cover had been blown, and there was no going back. Not to Socorro. Not to the cartel. Not even to the FBI.

They’d all abandoned him. But, worse, he’d abandoned them. The power of knowing an entire organization—that a partner—had his back in case the cartel had learned of his true identity wasn’t there anymore. He was on his own.

“Sorry I’m late.” He tried to count the soldiers at Sebastian’s back through the shadows. Too many for him to number. Too many for him to fight alone. His blood ran hot at the idea of dying right here in this place. With nothing but his weapon and Ivy’s pocketknife on him. And Max. She’d be forced to watch before Sebastian had her put down and buried somewhere nobody would find her remains. Hell, she deserved better than this. “Hell of a party you’re throwing.”

“All in your honor, my friend. Please.” Sebastian angled one side of his body, completely at ease with the potential of an attack. In fact, Carson had the feeling the son of a bitch was betting on it. “Join us, won’t you? This moment has been coming for a long time.”

Carson didn’t have a choice. He scanned the walls, clutching on to Ivy’s pocketknife—just to have something to keep him in the moment—and took a single step forward.

Pain splintered across the back of his skull.

He fell forward, losing his grip on the pocketknife, and hit the floor on all fours. Lightning didn’t come close to describing the patterns exploding behind his eyes. Max’s revolt went into overdrive as she lunged at his attacker. Loud screams pierced through the haze closing in around Carson’s mind. He couldn’t think, couldn’t force his limbs to obey his commands.

“Enough,” Sebastian said.

A single shot sucked the life out of Carson.

The K-9’s whimper etched into his brain and refused to let up. Then silence. It bounced off the cinder-block walls and dug deeper holes into his heart. His pulse rocketed higher as rage spread hot and thick through his veins. Carson shot to his feet,turning on his heel. His fist connected with the soldier who’d clocked him. The man dropped hard beside Max’s still frame. “No!”

His knees couldn’t hold his weight anymore as grief overwhelmed any thought of his own survival. Carson pressed his face into Max’s, and she licked at the tears. She was alive. For now. He skimmed his hand down the length of her body, coming away with blood. He’d done this to her. He’d trained her to protect him, and now… Now he was going to lose her.

Fingers fisted into his hair and pulled him away from his partner.

“I’m sorry to say dogs are not invited to this fiesta.” Sebastian dragged him across the dirt and tossed him back onto the front lines of infantry ready to fire.

Flashlights danced around Carson as he looked up at the man who’d brought him into the cartel. A man whose life he’d saved. “I’m going to kill you for that. Every single one of you.”

Sebastian’s knees popped as he crouched beside him. Fisting another handful of hair, the cartel leader forced Carson’s head back. The physical damage from their brawl had darkened, sharpening some features and downplaying others on the older man’s face. “You asked me to give my bosses a message the last time I saw you. Consider your message delivered, Agent Lang.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

She’d already lost one of her operatives.

She couldn’t lose another.

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