Page 31

Despite wearing light clothing, sweat had already formed on my forehead by the time I arrived in Colombia.

The Amazon rainforest, stretching across multiple countries, was the dampest environment the Cartel could have picked as their base. I could see the advantage of such a strategic spot, with its rough terrain and unpredictable conditions. A far cry from the usual environment I worked in.

As I ventured deeper into the jungle, the colors intensified. Half the plants looked so beautiful, you itched to touch them. Exquisite, but poisonous.

There was a comparison somewhere, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Getting a hold of the Jungles, as they called them, had proven difficult. It took longer than I expected to convince them to meet up, and a few days were wasted in the process. Days I spent worrying, hypnotizing the servers, and manifesting an answer.

I didn’t have insider knowledge, and they were wary of strangers. I couldn’t afford to fuck up. Time was running out.

This meeting? It was the one I dreaded most. No one ever tried to contact them, let alone meet them. They were the one organization out there completely unbothered by the rest.

The Jungles had two key leaders: one for the Colombians, one for the Brazilians.

The third and unofficial claim was for the French.

Whispers circulated that they were aligned, creating an unusual alliance.

A trio of leaders. I turned to the web for answers, but found almost nothing.

Just more proof of how well-protected they were.

Despite their past, they appeared united and grew in numbers each day.

They were all about narcotics, supplying both the US and Europe with their gummy juice.

Thanks to their product, the endless parties in Miami, Ibiza, and Mykonos kept going.

They were probably the richest organization on the market, though no one could confirm it.

No generational wealth of the Russians compared to the stacks these guys had.

Their instructions were simple: wait for transport at a bus stop in a nearby town. No weapons. No phones.

I’d debated all night whether to comply. Too much was on the line, and I couldn’t risk messing this up. With only my abilities to rely on, I showed up at the meeting point the next day.

A four-wheeler pulled up, driven by a guy who looked barely legal. Tall and skinny, his bleached blond hair was a mess. He had a hoop earring in one ear, wearing a white tank top and ripped jeans. A couple of years ago, he would’ve fit in a boy band, but that wasn’t something I planned to tell him.

“Taya?” His accent made his loyalties clear.

I nodded .

“On.” He held up a ski mask, the eye holes stitched shut. With no way out, I complied, pulling the fabric over my sweaty forehead.

Warm hands guided me toward the vehicle, pushing me to the spot behind the driver. When he slid in, he placed my hands on his abdomen.

A bit too cozy for our first meeting, but I got the reason behind it. I interlocked my fingers, trying to stay composed.

The vehicle sped down a bumpy road, and neither of us spoke. Through the fabric, I could barely make out the blur of green rainforest as it whizzed by.

Ten minutes later, I’d counted, he fired off some quick Spanish into the walkie-talkie before we came to a stop.

“Can I take it off? I’m going to melt,” I complained.

“Oui,” he said, his voice calm.

Thank God. The humidity in the air wasn’t for everyone. Certainly not me.

When the mask came off, I rushed to get a good look at the place.

A fenced area filled with buildings made from shipping containers stretched across the land.

Some were two stories tall, while others were interconnected, joined together in what appeared to be squares.

They all had windows and solar panels, and all carried an industrial look.

My escort took off walking toward the heart of the camp. Not wanting to be left behind, I swiftly followed. The grounds were filled with activity. People were hard at work, unloading crates or moving supplies.

Heading for the building in the middle, the young guy opened the side door, letting me enter first. The square-shaped house was made of at least three containers on each side, stacked on each other, forming a multistory building.

The middle served as an inner yard with a pool and a grassy area.

The space felt futuristic, yet resourceful.

One could mistake the building for an industrial unit from the outside, but the inside was a different story .

A hallway led us to a lavish living room with huge leather sofas and Persian rugs. The fire crackled in the fireplace, which caught me off guard given the surrounding heat. A wide staircase led upstairs, likely to the living quarters or offices.

I took the chance to scan my surroundings when a raspy voice called from behind me. “Assassin.”

I guessed the voice had been worn out by smoking before the cloud of smoke reached me.

The Colombian materialized right in front of me.

He was shorter, but the lack of height didn’t detract from his harsh features.

A deep cut split his left eyebrow, oddly complementing his face.

His hair, styled in a mohawk, suggested youth, probably close to my age, if not younger.

Steps echoed down the stairs, signaling a third presence. I glanced over the Colombian’s shoulder and spotted who I assumed was the Brazilian.

Our eyes met just as he zipped up the fly on his jeans. Upstairs, a door slammed shut, a subtle reminder that he wasn’t alone. Duh.

“You’re going to have to excuse him. He lacks manners,” the Colombian grunted.

The new arrival slouched into the nearest armchair, rubbing his eyes frantically. He shot me a shit-eating grin that reminded me of someone I knew too well. “Or all the right ones.”

A familiar reaction stirred within me. I bantered right back. “All you mafia gangsters,” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you ever get tired of flirting?”

He turned, his movements slow, his eyes devouring me with no shame in sight. “I haven’t even started, chica.” His tongue darted out, making his intentions clear.

I glanced back, giving him a second look. Bold, but no. His eyes weren’t the right color. I quickly stored away the memory of the shades I had wished to stare into instead.

But I knew how to play the game. “Please don’t,” I said, dismissing the advance. “That’s not why I’m here. ”

“What are you here for?” I half-expected the third person to join us, but the bleached-haired guy spoke up. He was the very third man. “We owe you money or something?”

“More like a favor,” I snickered. “You know who I am, right?”

“That’s a loaded question,” the Colombian responded. “Do we know what you do? Yes. Did you work for us in the past? I believe so. Will we need your services again? Guaranteed.”

His voice took on an annoyed undertone as he added, “But we for sure do not need to meet.”

“That one’s all me,” I acknowledged, smiling unapologetically.

“Are you looking for a place?” the Frenchman asked bluntly. “Heard there’s a bounty on your head.”

A shiver of resistance ran down my spine. “That’s news to me,” I admitted.

About time. I’d rather anticipate their moves than deal with the silence they’d been giving me.

“The Russians and the Italians might be aligned, Assassin,” the Brazilian finally chimed in. “But we have inside sources of our own,” he said, scanning my face for a reaction.

“Word on the street is, Malek is turning the world upside down looking for you,” he teased in a creepy voice. “Did we catch the runaway bride?”

I rolled my eyes at his cocky confidence. “I walked in,” I retorted, returning the same scrutinizing look.

“That’s Bratva dealings,” I warned, brushing off their questions. “It’s no secret I’m not their favorite person.” I dusted off the dirt from my pants, a result of the ride. “I grew tired of the endless cycle of submission.”

When I had their attention, the lust-filled one included, I laid out the real reason for my visit. “I’m here to claim what I’m owed.”

The trio exchanged looks, no doubt weighing the value of my request against what I’d done for them in the past .

I pulled out the crumpled headshot, wrinkled from being stuffed into my pocket. In the light, I stared into the familiar dark eyes, wondering if my suspicions were right. Had I let the viper poison my mind while it fed behind my back?

A brief glance confirmed enough for the men in the room. I stood and threw the paper into the fire.

“I will ask you the same as everyone who finds us. Why?” the Colombian asked, seeking answers.

Heaviness settled on my shoulders. I ignored it, focusing on each word. On what felt right.

“Because I will be the wall this world crashes against before it resets.”

There was no posturing, no threats when I admitted my intentions. Just as there was no doubt in their minds about my commitment. Before they had a chance to ask questions I didn’t want to answer, I continued, “How many members have you lost in the bloodshed? What if it was preventable?”

“Idealistic world you speak of. Not reality,” the Colombian grunted.

“Many tried to prevent it by mixing bloodlines with arranged marriages and false promises. And here I sit, short of a couple of family members, a kidney, and richer than I’ve ever been. Sure, I lost some, but I gained some too.” He took a puff, concluding, “It’s the circle of life.”

“There are casualties in all wars. I get that.” My head shook slightly.

“I just don’t believe in innocent bystanders getting caught up in the mess.

Kids, wives, sisters, brothers, cousins.

The boundaries this life places on them,” I said, staring at them with serious intent.

“Maybe I’m doomed to fail. Maybe I’ll be dragged out by my cold feet, but I’ll go knowing I tried to make a difference. ”

“There’s a code of conduct you don’t break. You know that,” the French protested.

I did, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I was determined to push the lines, maybe even obliterate them altogether.

“Some might say a Colombian, a Brazilian, and a Frenchman ruling together breaks it too, yet here you are.” I tapped my temples. “It’s all about looking past what’s been drilled into your mind.”

“Let’s say we agree.” My ears perked at hearing that. “How do you fit into this? What do you offer? You’re just one person.”

“Past this point, I’ll take the oath. I just don’t believe in the limits it brings,” I stated. “Will I stop being friends with others? No. Will it stop me from fucking someone from a rival gang if I feel like it? Fuck no.”

“This is my life,” I spoke louder than usual, the rage that had been building inside me for weeks finally breaking through. “And I certainly don’t plan on living it by some set-in-stone rules created by people long gone.”

As the young guy drove me back to the city, I wondered if I’d done enough.

I never reached out to the Irish. Time caught up to me. It was both a loss and a disadvantage. My plan hadn’t gone perfectly but there was no choice but to execute it. I packed the little I’d acquired during this time and headed back to the airport.

The distance wasn’t the only difficulty I was facing. Sneaking into a country on high alert was one of the bigger challenges I’d ever faced. But with enough money and reckless ambition, I was willing to risk it all.

I might’ve been crazy in the head, but the next night, I was airborne for Russia. The place where it all began.

My last stop.