They heard the sound of feet as Rhames returned with La Bruja. She was ahead of him, her hands still secured behind her. The SEAL had his hand on her back, his fist knotted into the fabric of her shirt to help her as she ascended.

She stopped at the top and glared around at them. “Who is in charge?”

“For now?” McCoy said. “That’ll be me, ma’am.”

“This is your last chance.”

“That right?”

“You think you can take me across Medellín? I own Medellín.”

“That might be the case, but no one knows you’re here. No one will see anything other than a couple of vehicles on their way to the airport. No one’s coming for you.”

“Let me explain something to you,” she said. “To all of you. This won’t be the last time we are in a room together. The next time? It will be different. I will find your wives.” She turned to Ellie. “Your husband. Your children. Your parents. You think you understand pain? You do not. I will show you what pain means.”

McCoy listened with his arms folded across his chest. “Finished?”

“I have a man who works for me. He is a medical man—El Doctor. You know his favourite way to punish those who cross the cartel? He has a barrel of acid. He hangs his victims above the barrel and lowers them into the acid. One inch, then another, then another. He keeps them alive while he dissolves them. It can take hours. Maybe you watch as he does it to your children.”

“Listen, honey, you can make all the threats you want, but when you wake up, you know where you’ll be? You’ll be over the border. There’s a nice Texas welcome waiting for you. You’ll be in front of a grand jury before you know it.”

“When I wake up?”

McCoy nodded, and Peterson took a plastic case out of his pocket. He opened the lid. There was a syringe inside. He withdrew it carefully, together with an ampoule that contained a clear liquid. He removed the plastic sheath that covered the tip of the needle, pushed the point through the seal and into the ampoule and then drew back the plunger, filling the barrel with the liquid.