Page 80 of Lash

I have been through quite a bit in my life as the only child of a notorious gangster who also happens to be an elected official. But nothing could have prepared me for the devastating shock of walking into that room below Rafael's barn and seeing my father's broken body strung up like a side of beef.

I do not understand why. The others have explained it—Tata was supposed to keep Solomon, Scarlett, and Lorenzo captive as leverage to make Inez do what he wants. Lash too, I suppose—the redirection of that jet and the capture of Solomon and the others were part of the same plot.

But why kill Tata? Surely he would have continued to be valuable to Mercado? Apparently not.

I am truly adrift in the world, now. My business is me. I am the CEO, founder, president, COO, CFO, everything. Katya and Ana were my primary employees, and now they're gone too.Georg. Tata. Mercado has destroyed my life from the inside out, and I’m not sure he even realizes it.

I’m just collateral damage, something he doesn't give two shits about.

I spend the flight to Manaus stewing in my grief and my rage.

All this for…a single child?

The boy’s life undeniably holds value. But…how many people have to die for Mercado to get what he wants? The death toll has to be in the dozens at this point, with many more to come before it's over.

When the helicopter lands on the base in Manaus, I am delirious with exhaustion, boiling with impotent rage, and gutted with grief. Nico wraps an arm around my waist and guides me down the ramp and across the tarmac—a van is waiting to take us across the airfield to a different runway, where a twin-engine prop plane is being prepared for takeoff.

I groan as we pile into the aircraft, the weapons and other gear stowed in the duffel bags once more. "I feel like I have been traveling forever," I mutter to Nico in Croatian, too tired and emotional to bother with English.

"I know, my love,” he says. "It has been a lot."

"I was so mad at him for…being what he was, I guess. But now…" I shake my head, blinking back tears—I've cried more on the flight here than in the last several years combined. "I just…he's gone, and I…I guess I feel lost, even though I spent my life as an adult trying to get away from him and his effect on my life."

"Mercado is a singularly destructive force in this world," Nico says. "Everywhere he goes, everything he does, he leaves a wake of destruction and death behind him."

"Can you explain something for me?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I can try. If I can, I will."

"You all refer to him as both Mercado and Rafael. Which is his name?"

"Rafael is the name he was born with—Rafael Sousa. Mercado is his business persona. Very few have even heard the name Rafael Sousa. Many know the name Mercado—it is at once his name and the name of the cartel he runs, his operation as the king of cartels. So, people will say 'Look out, be careful, Mercado is coming,' and they mean Mercado's men, not he himself. They say 'You do not want to cross Mercado,' and they mean both the man and the organization. But whenwesay Mercado, we mean the man, Rafael Sousa."

“Oh. I see. And Inez?" I ask. “I’ve heard her called two names also.”

He chuckles. "It is sort of a thing for us, it seems—assuming new identities to get away from the past. I was born Nicolae Dragos, and when my family was killed, I chose the name Lash. Scarlett, according to what I have overheard, also has a name she was born with, different from Scarlett."

Scarlett is sitting in front of us, dozing. "I was born Maria Rodriguez," she says, without turning or lifting her head. “I’m from Panama, originally.”

Nico laughs, rubbing his face. "I didn’t realize I had switched to English. I am exhausted and disoriented."

I rest my head on his shoulder, laughing. "I didn't either."

Scarlett snorts. "He speaks to you in English, and sometimes Croatian, and you almost always speak to him in Croatian when it's just the two of you having a private conversation. But then other times, you switch back and forth at random."

"Anyway," Nico says. "Inez, too, has a past she sought to escape. I have not heard the whole story, however, but from what I gather, she was married against her will to Rafael. So legally, her name is Sophia Sousa."

Lorenzo is behind us. "She was born Sophia de Silva. Her father was the original kingpin of the cartel Rafael took control over. He married Sophia against her will—the details of that arenot my story to tell. This marriage cemented his place in the cartel as Sophia's father's right-hand man. Once the marriage was done, Rafael killed Bruno de Silva, Sophia's father, and took over. The de Silva cartel was already immensely powerful, and Rafael, working under the name Mercado, expanded the cartel’s sphere of influence through a variety of means. He bribed officials, courted the favor of generals, took over smaller competing cartels by force and absorbed them into his operations. For the larger cartels he didn't want to go into outright war with, he used assassination to remove the cartel heads and installed people he controlled or who were loyal to him. Once his empire was big enough, he then began using more direct methods to assume further control. Now, he controls nearly the entire flow of drugs, guns, and humans into and out of South and Central America. That is Mercado. That is the man we seek to kill." Lorenzo sighs. Continues. "He is also a cold-blooded sociopath who delights in torture and murder."

"Lovely," I murmur. "So we are fighting a sadistic Goliath."

Lorenzo snorts. "No, Tatiana, we are fighting Goliath and the entire Philistine army."

"So how can we hope to succeed?" I ask.

Lorenzo doesn't answer immediately. "He cannot bring the entire force of his empire to bear against us all at once—it is spread out across Brazil, Colombia, Venezuela, and Mexico, not to mention all the other smaller countries in between, in a terrorist cell-type structure. He has eyes and agents everywhere, not just in Latin America. What works in our favor, however, is that he is intensely paranoid. He only trusts a very small circle of people, and his personal bodyguard is also a relatively small force because he trusts no one. So despite the size of his empire and the personnel and resources he controls, he is only surrounded by a very small entourage of assistants, lieutenants, and guards."

“Oh,” I say, “so as long as we can stay close to him, we stand a chance?"