As Vasquez approached the ground floor, Raul was waiting, arms folded, resplendent in his black suit. Ever since they branched into the States, the two had decided their appearance mattered. In a materialistic country, it was best to play the part.

Raul pushed himself from the wall and nodded up the stairs.

‘Did he talk?’

‘He can’t,’ Vasquez stated coldly, ending the line of questioning. ‘Any word?’

Raul smiled.

‘Yes. Tonight. As agreed.’

The confirmation caused a slight tension to tighten Vasquez’s body, and he shook it away quickly. He patted his cousin on the shoulder and smiled.

‘I think that deserves a drink.’

The two men stepped out of the apartment block and into the warm, sunny afternoon, knowing they were hours away from winning a potential war before it had even begun.

* * *

Joe Alan sped back up the main road that led back towards Dillon, bypassing the police cars and ambulances headed in the other direction. The third officer had likely called in what had happened, and when police officers are hurt in the line of duty, the cavalry comes running. Although he’d never intended to put any officers in harm’s way, he scolded himself for not being more careful.

He’d seen the files.

Read the reports.

Sam Pope was a dangerous man.

Trying to catch him off guard had been a mistake. The man was trained to hunt and kill people without detection, and undoubtedly, he was primed for anything. You don’t rack up a military career such as his, and then go to war with the powers that be without keeping your wits about you.

Alan slammed his powerful fist on the leather steering wheel of his 4x4 in frustration. He tried to call Sinclair, but again, his partner was off the radar.

Perhaps he was meeting with his source?

The frustration Alan felt towards being kept out the loop was only exceeded by his focus on Sykes. It was the reason he’d requested his transfer to this case, and why he let Sinclair run it in such secrecy.

Bringing down Sykes was the only mission.

While the DEA would receive commendation for their work, and he and Sinclair would be lauded as heroes, none of that would compare to the reward of seeing Sykes behind bars.

Or worse.

But Sam Pope was a spanner in the works.

Even if his story were true, and he was there for Alex, Alan couldn’t afford to let a man like him loose. He’d already intervened. The video of his assault at the High Five was no doubt the reasoning for his broken wrist and fresh bruises.

But Sam was a soldier.

A fighter.

He was built to fight back and given the carnage he was on the run from in the UK, Alan was certain that Sam’s response would be devastating.

Enough to ruin the case he and Sinclair had worked on.