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your shipments coming through Baja California and into Sonora. In the east, we’ll handle it.”

“Very good. Look, if you want my honest opinion as a friend, what happens once those shipments reach Mexico is none of my business. I only take responsibility for them in America. I can’t make guarantees beyond that.”

Romero reached into his pocket and took out a packet of cigars. Underneath a sign on the wall reading ‘No Smoking’, he lit a match and puffed away. One of the waiters in the back seemed determined to try his luck, but one glare from Romero forced him to turn away. A couple of seconds later, another waiter appeared with an ashtray.

“Thank you,” said Romero.

“Are you happy with the terms?” asked Alex.

“Oh yes, very happy. You supply the requisite number of shipments in return. Again, I only take responsibility for those shipments once they reach the United States. The money is reasonable. I think we can do business together.”

Alex finally smiled. “Very good. I’ll tell Quezada right away.” He pulled out his smartphone and began typing away to Quezada again. “He’ll be very pleased.”

“Excellent,” said Romero. “There’s only one other matter I wish to discuss. You might say it’s the most important matter.” He leaned forwards. “How is Rasgado?”

“Rasgado?” Alex seemed taken aback.

“Yes, Rasgado. I heard you managed to get him in your pocket.”

Alex opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“We did,” Fernando piped up. “He wanted to become secretariat, so we agreed to help him.”

Romero turned his gaze on Fernando. “Good. Very good. Did you know he was in the pocket of someone else before that?”

Fernando shook his head.

“Rasgado was the backup option for Senator George Black of Florida. He planned on using him as a Plan B in case he decided to betray me. You see, Black comes from an old southern family. Hates people like us. You’ve done me a big favour.”

“Thank you, Roberto,” Alex croaked. “It wasn’t by design, but with Rasgado on our side, we’ll be able to control Mexico for a generation.

Romero smiled. “And I understand Camacho is not doing so well.”

Fernando twiddled his fingers in front of him. Alex, taken completely by surprise, crumbled in front of his very eyes. Awkwardness oozed from his pores knowing Alex would no doubt shout at him for embarrassing him afterwards. He was a bodyguard, nothing more.

“Rasgado is only part of the problem. You need more than that if you’re going to take control. With that, I can help you.” Romero bent down to pick up his black leather bag. He retrieved a photo blown up to A4 size. “Do you recognise this man?”

Alex squinted at it and shook his head.

“I do.” The heat built up in Fernando’s cheeks. “That’s Harrison Phelps III. The Senate majority leader in Washington.”

Romero raised his eyebrows. “Impressive. Yes, Senate Majority Leader Harrison Phelps III of Virginia. Similar to Black, a racist. You can date the Phelps family all the way back to the days of slavery. A big family. Very influential.”

“And… what does he have to do with us?” said Alex.

“Phelps controls politics in the US. He’s stalled hundreds of bills and they’re piling up. He’s ground the political process in the US to a halt. He’s made of Teflon. He can’t be destroyed no matter how low the opinion polls fall. This is a man you want on your side.”

“But how could we get to a man like that?”

“The same way I got to Black. Just because he comes from a distinguished family doesn’t mean that family is doing well. Phelps’ father and brother lost most of the family fortune. They have their big house in Virginia, but that’s about it. Most of Phelps’ salary is still being used to pay off the family’s debts.” Romero slipped the photo back inside his bag. “Imagine what he would do if we could help his family elevate itself to its former greatness?”

Fernando leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. He felt giddy just thinking about it. A pair of Mexicans controlling one of the most powerful politicians in the United States.

“I’ve already made overtures to him. I’ll be meeting him at my mansion in Miami next week. Just thought I would give you an idea of what’s possible with our new partnership.” Romero got up. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Romero departed. Both Alex and Fernando sat in total silence at the table. The tension made Fernando fidget in his chair.

“The Senate Majority Leader of the United States,” said Alex to nobody in particular. “Who would believe it?”

“This could be a big opportunity for us.” Fernando drummed his fingers on the table. “If we get in with Romero, we’ll have him on our side. The power of the United States supporting us. That would make us more powerful than any other cartel in Mexico. We could absorb them all.”

“Shut up,” Alex snapped. “This is not your deal. Quezada will decide. Know your place.”

Fernando swallowed his anger and stared off at the crashing waves. Maybe one day Quezada would see his potential. One day, he would force Alex to see it too.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Guanajuato, Guanajuato, Mexico

Weeks passed and the drug war in Central Mexico escalated out of control. Shootings at roadside taco stands, attacks on buses, a couple of homes burned to the ground. All James could do was watch and wait for an opportunity as they hid in Dr. Silva’s mansion. The thought of all these innocent people dying by the dozens tortured him, kept him awake at night. He’d never felt so powerless.

Diego recovered in the intervening weeks. Now he could lift a gun, drive, and would be able to kill without any problems. It had put him in a rare, good mood. He didn’t pay a thought to the

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