“This’d better be good,” I said. “You’ve just put me in the doghouse with Natalia. She needs all of my attention right now.”
“She’ll forgive the dog if he catches her a rat.”
I arched an eyebrow at him as we headed down the hall toward where Vicente and his family remained chained and silenced. Instead, he led me to a different room. Seated alone in the middle was Gabriel, Vicente’s grandson, with his hands bound in front of him.
Alejandro yanked tape off the boy’s mouth and nodded once. “Tell him what you told me.”
Gabriel stretched his jaw but kept his eyes down. “I can help you.”
I followed his gaze to a pair of broken glasses on the ground. “Look at me, boy,” I said.
He raised his fearful eyes, blinking rapidly and squinting. Perhaps he needed those glasses. “I can help you find Max,” he said.
I let my eyes drift over the skinny kid. I was certain I’d weighed more than him at eight years old. “How?”
“My grandfather told you I can find things on the Internet—that’s like calling Lionel Messi a good soccer player.”
“Lionel Messi, eh? You a sports fan?” I asked, aware of how sinister my laugh sounded as I glanced to Alejandro. “You tore me away from my distraught wife for this?”
“Coding, surveillance, dark web,” the kid spoke quickly, tripping over his words, as if begging for his life. “I can do all of it. I built my first computer from discarded parts. The Internet is my sandbox . . . and that makes the world my playground.”
“My intelligence team is unrivaled,” I said. “They come from all over the world. Beijing, Russia, San Francisco—”
“With all due respect, sir, if that were true, you wouldn’t have had a major security breach earlier this month when Belmonte-Ruiz attacked your household.”
Alejandro seemed pleased—so, this was why he’d called me down here. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so delighted. “How the fuck do you know about that?” I asked, stepping forward.
“All my life I’ve heard of the guts and glory of my grandfather, great uncles, and the cartel they built. Since we were forced into hiding, I’ve had to be invisible my whole life. Now, I’m better at hiding than anyone, and I know how to get information. On you, on Belmonte-Ruiz . . . even on Diego.” He swallowed audibly. “When I learned he’d blackmailed my family into disappearing, I took an interest in him. I’ve followed him for a long time.”
“Do you know where he is?” I asked.
“No, but give me a chance. I can find him.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Your men learned how to hack, but I never knew a life without it; I am it. I never went to school. I only know computers. Let me train with your team, and I will become the best hacker in the world,” he said. “Give me a chance to prove myself before you kill me. Let me show you what I can achieve—under your guidance.”
From the moment I’d heard Gabriel was Vicente’s grandson, I’d known he’d have to die. I wouldn’t make the same mistake I’d made with Diego. But I thought of what Natalia had said. I was the other half of that equation. I’d been right by Diego’s side and had felt no resentment or anger toward Costa for what he’d done—only gratitude and loyalty.
“Why would I trust you? I’m going to kill the rest of your family regardless.”
His fidgeting stopped. “I guess I understand why you have to do it. My abuelo, I love him, but he has lived a long life considering his odds.”
Spoken like a true math whiz. Logic and reason spoke to this kid. One assassination equaled one retribution.
But then he continued, “And I saw Natalia’s face in there. I feel bad. I lost my mom in all of this, too.”
Huh. Either there was a heart in that motherboard, or he was trying to manipulate my evident soft side for Natalia. “What do you know about Belmonte-Ruiz?” I asked.
“Not much, but I learn quickly,” Gabriel said. “I know more about what you do here in the Badlands.”
“It’s not such a secret anymore. We have our fingers in many, uh, pies, as they say.” My finger should have been in the most delicious pie right then—I mentally hurried Gabriel along.
“Arms, freight, money laundering—but you also traffic in people,” he said, and added, “just in the wrong direction, most would say.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Rumors had been spreading about our operation, and that would ultimately hurt us, but there was no way the truth could’ve already made it to the impoverished corners of Mexico. “How do you know that?”
“I told you—I’m invisible. Your security is top of the line, but I got through. You need me.”
That kind of skill was lethal in the wrong hands. But in the right ones, it was an asset. How could I know who this boy was, though? His true intentions? “And what do you think of our operation?”