Page 40 of Devil's Property

“Names? Anything of use?”

He shook his head vehemently. “We were told not to ask questions.”

“What did he look like?”

“He always wore a mask, but he was older with silver hair.”

I took a guess. “He was here tonight.”

The two looked at each other. I shifted my gaze to Jago who smirked. We’d get no additional information from the two or anyone else.

While his answer provided little, at least he confirmed my guess. Eduardo had a scientist involved. Maybe that’s what Fassi wanted.

“From here on out, you will treat your workers with respect. Period. Now get the fuck out of here.”

They didn’t hesitate, both heading for the door. But Albrego stopped long enough to shoot a look in my direction.

I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to follow and finish the fight. Knowing he’d lose. I resisted, taking a deep breath instead.

“What’s bothering you? The chick?” Kruz asked. “You’re more off the rails than normal.”

“I don’t like surprises. And I don’t like the fact this trip, this building, and everything about dealing with Fassi stinks to high heaven.”

“That we agree on,” Jago said, still amused at my reaction. “Let’s have a chat with our friend over there. That might make you return to your normal chipper self.”

Snorting, I rolled my eyes and allowed him to take the lead. He moved to where Fassi’s man had been dumped in a chair. His head was lolled against his chest, blood staining his chin and neck, soaked into his black tee shirt.

Jago’s men remained in the room, all four flanking the perimeter with one keeping an eye on the door.

Jago crouched down in front of him, unsheathing and showing him the tanto. When the man didn’t as much as lift his head, Jago did it for him with a hard snap of the soldier’s neck.

“When we’re having a discussion, it’s polite to look at the man you’re talking to.” My words brought a chuckle from Jago.

“I have one question. Why are you here?” Jago continued.

The soldier was barely able to see from either eye, both already swollen.

When he sputtered, blood oozing from his mouth, I sighed and glanced at Kruz, who stood against a group of crates. This was going to be another one of those interrogations.

Jago lifted the man’s hand, running the sharp blade across it. At least the soldier flinched, finally opening his eyes as wide as possible.

He muttered something, but it wasn’t in either Arabic or Moroccan Berber, the typical languages used. Jago looked at me since he knew I was the master of several languages, at least in passable conversation.

“French,” I said casually. “And he told you to go fuck yourself.”

“What the hell is Fassi doing with French soldiers?” Kruz piped in.

“Because he wants to rule Spain, crowding in from all sides. Nothing has changed. It doesn’t matter that we interrupted his diamond monopoly or that we crushed his hopes of invading our country almost a year ago. He’s gathering his armies.” My answer was the only plausible one.

Years before, Spain had been in turmoil with various cartels and mafia organizations trying to obtain a strong hold. That’s when the Torres regime had truly risen in the ranks. But not without a tremendous loss of life, blood covering Barcelona’s streets. For the most part, the territory wars had been kept to a minimum.

Partially because deals had been made, alliances formed, but also because several smaller crime syndicates had been wiped off the face of the earth. I wondered if Fassi had more to do with the past than any of us had been made aware of. I’d keep my ideas to myself at this point.

But the nagging continued, an unwavering twitch that had troubled me for months.

“So why enter Mexico?” Jago mused. He returned his attention to the soldier. “Your turn. What are you here for? Not cocaine.” He hovered the tanto over the man’s fingers, raising it slowly.

The soldier panted while Jago continued messing with him. At least the asshole came to his senses just before Jago removed a finger.