Page 32 of Echoes and Oaths (Guardian Security Dynasty #4)

J inx strolled through the compound. He poured himself a cup of coffee and stretched out in the courtyard.

As Simón walked through the area, their eyes met.

Jinx nodded to the man. Simón blinked, did a double-take, and then kept walking.

He’d just given the man the notice he required.

It might be more than a day before things came to a head, but at least Simón and his woman would be out of the area.

The day was long and heavy. Jinx loitered in the courtyard, catching the breeze the compound's interior areas didn’t have.

Brando’s voice over his comms came about five hours after he’d given Simón notice to leave.

“Z just reported Simón picked up his woman in the village, and they got the hell out of Dodge. Eira’s mother is safe, as well as the rest of her family.

Her aunt is slowly getting better. Panther Team was rerouted and has landed in country.

They will ensure the war doesn’t reach the village.

Z is en route back to your location should you need the backup. ”

Jinx made a small sound in his throat to let Brando know he’d heard the communication.

Not more than an hour later, Jinx was summoned to Tomás’s private office. He tapped his comms, activating them before he approached the little block building. It had heavy security posted outside this afternoon.

“Recording.” Brando’s voice was immediate and all business.

Jinx was let in immediately. “It’s time,” Tomás said after the door was closed.

Jinx stood across the desk from the man, saying nothing.

Tomás wiped the sweat from his palms onto his silk pants before he picked up the satellite phone.

The signal buzzed faintly in his ear as he punched in the encrypted number, the one only a handful of men probably had.

Across the desk, Jinx stood silent, arms crossed, a stone monument of patience. Tomás shot him a quick, jittery glance. The look tried to be conspiratorial but landed somewhere closer to pathetic and pleading. "He won't see it coming," Tomás whispered, almost to himself.

The line clicked, then rang. Once. Twice. Then it connected as the dead air hummed between them.

Tomás straightened his spine, forcing steadiness into his voice. "Esteban," he said, all greasy charm. "Brother. We need to talk. I understand someone from inside this compound is telling you lies. I deserve the right to clear them up."

There was a pause. The kind of pause that made your gut twist. And Jinx watched Tomás drop into his chair as if the wait were too much for him.

On the other end, Esteban’s voice slid through the speaker, smooth and cold as a mountain river stone.

"What a surprise call," Esteban said. No warmth. Just a fact. “You think you deserve anything from me?” Esteban’s voice held what Jinx thought was actual confusion, and that, too, followed what Dr. Wheeler had said when they talked. Tomás was just a tool for Esteban .

Tomás laughed too loud, too fast. "You and me, we’ve too much between us. I’m being reasonable. Let me explain. Come to the compound. We’ll drink, talk. Set things right."

Jinx didn’t move or react, but inside, he was already cataloging the tremors in Tomás’s voice and how his eyes flicked to the door as if expecting ghosts to walk through it.

Another pause. This one was at least twice as long as the last. Tomás leaned forward to say something, but Jinx lifted his hand and shook his head. Tomás snapped his mouth shut.

Then Esteban’s voice, low and amused, came across the connection. "Of course, hermano. I wouldn't miss your explanation for the world."

The line went dead. Tomás ensured the connection was severed by hanging up his line. Then the man exhaled a shaky breath and leaned back in his chair, forcing a grin at Jinx. "He’ll come," Tomás said. "Walk right into his grave."

Jinx doubted it. Tomás was just trying to convince himself. The man was cunning and didn’t tolerate people not following his demands. Tomás was unimpressive on so many fronts that Esteban had to be tired of the sniveling and whining.

“You’ll be here when he comes?” Tomás shot the question at him.

“Of course,” Jinx replied. “Let me know when he’s at the gate, and I’ll be by your side.”

“Good,” Tomás said and nodded. “You’ll do what we agreed to do? ”

“For you, I will do anything. I’ve told you this. Do you doubt me?”

“No.” Tomás drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re the only person I don’t doubt.”

Jinx smiled a mile-wide smile on the inside. Externally, he didn’t move except to ask, “Did you need anything else?”

“No,” Tomás said.

“Then I’ll go clean my weapons and ensure they’re in working order.

” Jinx was going to do just that. He had two bullets with names on them, and he planned on delivering them tonight.

But just in case bullets weren’t enough, he had a fail-safe option he’d bring along.

A little help that would add a pop for the party, as it were.

Jinx heard the first gunshots from the heart of the compound.

They were sharp, controlled bursts that caused his instincts to kick in before his thoughts caught up.

He spun toward the noise, hand snapping to his sidearm, already moving across the courtyard.

Guards scrambled around him, shouting orders that made no sense, confusion splitting the night wide open .

He tapped his ear. “Brando!”

“Copy. Getting a satellite view. Z, what do you see?”

“Three SUVs are coming down the road. Do I take them out?”

The attack came from the inside. It was too clean. Happened too fast. This wasn’t a random attack. This was an execution. Esteban was coming for Tomás. “No, don’t stop them. It’s the Ghost.”

A body dropped to his left, the guard's mouth still open in a half-formed question, blood pooling across the stone. Jinx didn’t stop. He sprinted toward the main hall leading to Tomás’s office.

A figure loomed at the archway. He was a guard Jinx recognized, but something was wrong. The man’s rifle wasn’t aimed at the intruders.

It was aimed at Jinx. The traitor fired. Jinx threw himself sideways, the bullet grazing his ribs, the pain burning hot. “Motherfucker!” He hit the ground rolling and came up firing. Two rounds punched into the man’s chest, dropping him like a sack of sand.

More footsteps were heading his way. Louder and heavier now. The men were coordinated in action and closing in on him.

Jinx cursed under his breath and pushed forward, weaving through the open hallways, gun tight in his hand.

Twice he had to fucking change course. The first time, a wall of gunfire pinned him down, forcing him to duck through a storage room thick with smoke.

The second was when a locked gate sealed off the direct path to Tomás’s inner courtyard and small building.

Son of a bitch. He had to get to Tomás, not to save his ass, but to reach Esteban.

But for some reason, they were herding him. Keeping him away. By the time he’d cut through the servants’ passage and emerged into the outer corridor of the main residence, the ground beneath his boots shook, and a deep, reverberating boom that rattled the walls.

The explosion ripped through the air like a thunderclap. Smoke and dust billowed through the compound. Jinx broke into a dead run, dropping his useless weapon. He’d fired all of his rounds and didn’t have any for a reload.

As he rounded the final corner, he saw Tomás’s heavy steel door blasted off its hinges, twisted metal hanging from shattered stone. Jinx sprinted to the empty doorway.

Inside the office, Tomás lay sprawled behind his wrecked desk, bleeding from a gash across his forehead, dazed and struggling to rise. And standing over him, calm as a man admiring a painting, was Esteban, with a pistol loose in his hand, a half-smile curving his lips.

Esteban turned slightly as if he’d been expecting Jinx all along.

"That didn’t take you long, hermano. My men were poor at keeping you delayed," he said. “I’d hoped to finish this unfortunate business before we met. If you’ll excuse me, this won’t take long.”

Jinx moved to position himself for the greatest access to Esteban. He glanced past the man to Tomás’s shattered office. Smoke still curling through the blown doorway. Blood smeared the marble floor .

Tomás coughed wetly, dragging himself up against the ruined remains of his desk. Blood matted his hair, smeared across his face in streaks. He looked small. Broken.

Esteban stepped closer, movements unhurried, almost gentle. The pistol dangled loose at his side, forgotten for now.

"You should have stayed in your place, Tomás," Esteban said, almost pitying. "You must know you were never meant to be more than the face. The name."

Tomás bared his broken teeth, a low growl tearing from his throat. " I made this empire.” He spat blood at Esteban’s feet. "Without me , you'd be nothing."

Esteban smiled, a slow, indulgent smile, like a parent tolerating a child’s tantrum.

“Oh sweet, hermano. No, no, no," he said softly.

"You made noise. I made the empire. You were just the puppet.

A useful diversion." He knelt in front of Tomás, lowering himself to eye level.

"You thought you could summon me here …?

" Esteban shook his head. "You don’t have that power.

You never understood, hermano. I've been holding your leash since the beginning. "

Tomás lunged a weak, pitiful swipe at Esteban’s face. Without even flinching, Esteban raised his pistol and fired once.

Tomás’s body jerked, a single convulsion, and then he slumped sideways, lifeless. Blood pooled around his broken form, seeping into the cracked marble like ink staining paper.

Dead silence swallowed the room. Esteban stood smoothly, brushing dust from his sleeves. He turned, meeting Jinx’s eyes across the wreckage.

The smile he wore wasn’t cruel. It was welcoming.