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Lopez was trying to catch them off guard by moving the meeting up a day.
Too late for Dìleas to send more support.
He’d called Zach and Danny immediately. They’d raced over.
Zach, dressed in desert cammies and tan boots, sat in the beige armchair, his Marine Corps cap turned backward over tied-back hair.
“A private jet from Miami landed at Gallup Municipal,” he said, ending a call. “Tail number belongs to Havana Sol Entertainment Holdings. Four men deplaned. My contact says at least two are muscle.”
“If Lopez is bringing more than four,” Caleb said, “he’s hiring local.”
“Aztec Kings?” Zach leaned forward, fingers laced. “Probably who Ortega used during the ambush. Same with the medical supply driver who grabbed Jennie—still no ID.” He exhaled. “But I doubt they’ll risk open conflict on tribal land. They don’t want that kind of heat.” His jaw flexed. “I’ve checked with every local agency—no signs of a cartel presence.”
A beat passed.
“I find that hard to believe.” His gaze met Caleb’s. “You were right to keep this off law enforcement’s radar.”
Caleb dropped onto the orange sofa beside Gia, in jeans and a plaid button-down borrowed from Zach covering his tactical vest.
He rested a hand on her thigh—comfort for her, an anchor for him.
She sat curled into herself, legs tucked beneath her, wearing an olive button-down he’d handed her earlier to cover the vest Danny brought. Her face was pale, her silence stretched.
“Gia thinks Lopez will underestimate us,” Caleb said. “Maybe he brings just his cousin and two enforcers.”
Danny snorted from across the room. “We’re never that lucky.” He wore mission gear—tan pants, beige shirt, tactical boots, his shaggy blond hair pulled into a stubby ponytail.
“Only one road in, one road out.” Caleb glanced at his cousin. “What about air?”
“No fixed-wing planes can land there,” Zach said, scrolling through his phone. “A helo could squeeze in, but it’s tight. Most in Gallup are med flights. Charter company’s tiny—no flights scheduled today.”
He looked up. “And the charter uses local pilots. If Lopez plans to kill you, I doubt he’ll leave a civilian witness who’s also his ride.”
Gia flinched.
Caleb gave herthigh a gentle squeeze. “Have your guy at the airport watch every bird. Even med flights. I want to know the second one lifts.”
Danny checked his watch. “We need to move if we want to be in position before Lopez and his boys roll in.”
The three men stood.
Caleb turned to Gia, offered his hand, and pulled her to her feet.
He brushed a knuckle down her cheek. “You ready?” He kept his voice soft—she was close to the edge.
“Yes.”
Shoulders drawn tight, face still pale, but her voice didn’t waver.
His woman was a fighter.
He grabbed the envelope Nathan had sent—tracker tags. Flesh-toned. Flat. Barely visible.
“Turn around,” he murmured.
She did. He parted her hair and pressed the tag firmly into place beneath her ponytail.
Then he kissed her. In front of everyone.