“Yeah, nearly six years.” He’d seen Ivy since, but not Cora. “That last time she showed up I warned her if she ever contacted me again, I wouldn’t help her. And shockingly, she listened. Well, up until recently.”
“So, that’s why you don’t think Cora would be involved with the cartel now,” Mya said in understanding. “And I assume her sister knows Cora’s story, so she wouldn’t want to get mixed up with the Sinaloas either.”
“Right, but like I said, Cora was always great at accidentally getting herself mixed up with the wrong people. I guess it’s not inconceivable to think Cora’s in trouble now because someone from the past connected to MS-13 or the Sinaloas has found her. Many of her old crew were arrested not long after she fled town, and they probably blamed her for it.” But Cora was also great at remaining invisible. Hell, even Emily’s contacts couldn’t find her with their facial recognition software. How would anyone from her past be able to find her? “Bad luck, maybe?”
“I take it the cartel never knew Ivy back when Cora was in LA, or she wouldn’t risk going to that club in Juárez?” Mya asked.
“No, Ivy never lived in LA while Cora was there, and she had no connection with the cartel from what I know . . . well, once I learned the truth, that’s what Cora told me.”
Before Beckett could share more, Sydney’s gaze dropped to her watch and she announced, “They’re coming now.”
“Who?” Mya stepped closer to Oliver. “Good guys or bad guys?”
“Good guys,” Sydney answered as Beckett listened for signs they weren’t alone.
Within a minute, a deep voice called out, “Sydney Archer, Carter Dominick sent us. Let’s get you all out of there.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful,” Beckett began once the four of them were above ground, “but how is it that you happened to get here so fast? Didn’t Carter call less than an hour ago?”
“Happened to be in the neighborhood?” Oliver tossed out sarcastically as he joined Beckett to face the strangers before them.
Beckett stole a quick look at Sydney standing alongside him. She was assessing their surroundings, as well as the six guys that screamed former military, from their all-black clothes to the black and green paint streaked across their faces.
“We were gearing up when Carter called.” One man broke from the pack, and the way he moved and spoke screamed “leader.” Confident but not cocky. “We heard about the shooting at the hotel. I live ten mikes out. We fast-roped into the jungle from my private helo.”
Mikes. Helo. Fast-roped. Yeah, you’re a veteran.
The man in charge lifted his chin when the sound of a chopper flying over the canopy of leaves came into earshot. His men had most likely handled the cartel members on foot after dropping in and then advanced to their location after Gray pinged Sydney’s watch. Relatively quickly too.
“Well, we appreciate your help,” Mya chimed in, stepping forward to offer her hand.
“You’re not police. Or active-duty military,” Oliver said as he shook the man’s hand next. Beckett and Sydney quietly followed suit out of respect. “So, who are you?” Oliver followed up. “And how do you know my boss?”
The man’s lips tipped into a smile before he tossed a look over his shoulder at his men, who mirrored his amused look. “I’m Martín Gabriel.” He opened his palms to the sky. “But my men and I are known as los fantasmas.”
“Ghosts,” Beckett finished for him. “So, you’re the ghosts of the jungle we were told about.” Now it made sense. Sort of.
“Ah, okay,” Oliver said. “Let me guess, vigilantes? If you were gearing up to take out these thugs before Carter called, you must handle this type of situation on a regular basis. Independent of the police, right?”
“Someone must, sí? The policía can only do so much without endangering the lives of their families if they get involved in cartel business.” Martín stowed his hands into his pockets and angled his head, then pinned Beckett with a knowing look, possibly sensing he was law enforcement.
Unfortunately, because of his time working in LA, Beckett understood the gravity of Martín’s words more than he cared to admit. Had he stayed in town, McKenna’s life may have been in danger at some point because of his work.
“And you’re not afraid of the cartel?” Mya asked, sounding a bit mystified by the man.
“They should be afraid of us, and I think they’re becoming so. We are developing an intricate network across Mexico to combat these men who try to destroy our country.”
“Brave of you,” Oliver said. “I assume you met my boss through your dealings with the cartel?”
Martín nodded. “Let’s say my head is still attached to my body because of him.” He motioned for them to begin walking, and Beckett was more than happy to oblige. He was waterlogged. And although walking in wet boots wasn’t his idea of a good time, the lure of a hot shower and clean clothes compelled him forward.
“Stupid question because you wouldn’t be here otherwise, but are all the bad guys dead?” Mya asked, rooted in place.
Martín turned back toward her. “Sí.”
Mya closed the space between them. “If you’re hunting down the cartel, there’s something that may help you.” She quickly explained all about her inside source and the cell phone that contained information about the human trafficking routes.
“My men will locate his phone. And I can promise you”—Martín stopped and set a hand over his heart—“that I will personally help destroy that network. And we shall offer our support if you find yourselves facing the Sinaloas again.”
Beckett wasn’t usually quick to judge people, but Martín not only saved their asses, he gave off good vibes. Beckett’s gut told him the guy was more than worthy of his trust. And he’d take all the help he could get to save his brother-in-law and McKenna’s mother and aunt.
“Carter has requested that the four of you spend the night at mi casa to err on the side of caution for now,” Martín explained as he resumed walking, keeping pace with Beckett while his men followed closely behind.
“We’ll take you back to your hotel so you may collect your things. Policía are not on the hotel grounds yet. We’ve instructed them to wait for my word before coming.” Martín and his team clearly had the pull and respect from local law enforcement to bow to his requests. Better they deferred to Martín than the cartel though. “A car will pick you up and take you to my home. Not enough room in my bird for all of us, I’m afraid.”
Beckett briefly caught sight of the helicopter through an opening between branches overhead. It appeared to be following along, which made Beckett feel a bit better to have eyes in the sky as they navigated the woods back to the resort.
Sydney remained relatively quiet while walking until Martín turned his attention to the bow she’d decided to bring back with her. “You come from a long line of archers, sí?”