He's had his eye on one of the bridesmaids, and then there's La Reina Amante. Christ, sitting next to her...

"Be careful what and who you do," Diego says. "You're in the country now. These old hillbillies will shoot your ass. And not El Patrn's woman, either."

"He just got married, for Chrissakes."

"Don't be stupid," Diego warns him.

Adn and Eva come out and walk to the helicopter waiting to take them to their honeymoon at an undisclosed location. They walk through the line of guests, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.

Adn comes up to Diego.

"Thank you, primo," Adn says, kissing him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome, primo."

It makes Diego feel better.

That Adn appreciates him.

- They honeymoon at a house Adn owns in Cabo.

Adn had thought about Europe, but there are Interpol warrants in almost every country.

Mexico is his prison.

That's all right; everything he wants is here.

When they arrive at the house overlooking the Pacific, Eva excuses herself and goes into the bathroom. She comes out half an hour later in a blue negligee that sets off her eyes.

It's far more revealing than he thought it would be. Her hair hangs long and loose over her bare shoulders. Lovely, she presents herself to him but looks down at the polished parquet floor.

Adn walks over and lifts her chin.

"I want to make you happy," Eva says.

"You will," Adn says. "You do."

They're both shy in bed; she from youth, he from age. He spends a long time touching her, stroking her, kissing her cheeks, her neck, her breasts, her stomach. Her eighteen-year-old body responds easily despite her nerves, and when he feels she's ready he takes her, silently thanking Magda for her earlier ministrations as Eva bucks upward beneath him. Her energy can't trump Magda's experience, but he's grateful for it.

She's springtime to his autumn.

- This is some weird shit, Eddie thinks as he watches Diego kneel in front of the statue of a skeleton in a purple robe, with human hair braided into her skull. She holds a globe in one hand and a scythe in the other.

Santa Muerte.

The Saint of Death.

The lady has a lot of names: La Flaquita-"the Skinny One"; La Nia Blanca-"the White Girl"; La Dama Poderosa-"the Powerful Lady." She sure as shit looks powerful now, Eddie thinks as Diego rubs goat blood (Jesus, Eddie hopes it's goat's blood) onto the statue's face.

They're in a back room of Diego's safe house in Badiraguato, and Eddie has just come back from the after-wedding party. He's fucked out, sleepy, but hungry as he watches Diego take a deep drag on a blunt and then blow the smoke into the Skinny Lady's face. He's already placed gifts at the little altar he had built in the house, like he has in all his houses now-candy, cigarettes, flowers, fresh fruit, incense, a fifth of single-malt scotch, cocaine, and cash.

This skinny bitch, Eddie thinks, makes out better than Diego's actual segunderas.

Now Diego lights a gold candle.

"For wealth," Diego explains.

Yeah, well, that's working, anyway, Eddie thinks. Diego has more money than God. The rumor is that he has more money than Adn Barrera, which can't make AB happy. And Diego's picked up a new aporto in certain circles-El Jefe de Jefes-the Boss of Bosses, which won't sit well in La Tuna either.

Diego lights another candle.

Black.

Like you buy at Party City for Halloween, Eddie thinks.

If you're a dweeb.

But he listens as Diego places the black candle on the altar and prays to Santa Muerte for revenge against his enemies and to protect his drug shipments. Maybe he should get more than one candle, Eddie thinks. He's hoping they're done, but Diego picks up a white candle.

"Protection," he says.

"Yeah, great."

Diego could use some protection, because he looks like pounded shit. El Jefe's doing blow, no question about it. Diego mumbles another prayer, then gets up and they walk into the living room.

"Adn called earlier," Diego says.

"What for?"

"Let me know he got into Cabo all right."

This gets Eddie's radar going. Barrera's usually all business, not your "shoot the shit" kind of guy. He's one of those geeks, when he calls you, you think he's reading from a four-by-six file card with an agenda on it.

He don't like that AB supposedly gets on the horn to chat like some housewife with a half hour to kill before her yoga class. And he don't like that Diego Tapia, who used to be so freaking sharp, seems indifferent and bored.

Diego used to have all the answers. Now he don't even know the questions. La Dama Poderosa, my ass.

"Hey, Diego?" Eddie says. "Let's get out of here."

"What for?"

"I dunno, man," Eddie says. "Get some air, some grub. I could use me some breakfast burrito action."

"It's two in the morning."

"So?"

"I'm not hungry."

"I am," Eddie says. "Come on."

- Alberto Tapia is coming home from his segundara's condo. Thought he'd use the occasion of the wedding to hook up.

His Navigator is full.

A driver and two other security guys. You want security when you're driving around at two in the morning carrying two suitcases with $950,000 in U.S. cash, and another case with a hundred grand worth of luxury watches.

Alberto likes his Rolexes and Pateks.

Maybe that's why he has an AK-47 across his lap. Wouldn't think you'd need it in Badiraguato, which is Sinaloa cartel country, but paranoia is not such a bad thing in his business. He also has his diamond-encrusted .45 holstered on his hip, the jewels spelling out the legend "Live Free" in Spanish. He's a little sleepy, though, after a long hard night of fucking. So he has his eyes closed and his head leaned back when the shit happens.

Four SUVs roar in from all directions and block the road. Alberto wakes up and flips his AK to full automatic, then hears, "Federal police! Come out of the vehicle with your hands on your head!"

Federales rousting him in Sinaloa? This has to be some sort of joke, or this bola de idiotas pendejos didn't get the word, and Alberto starts to get out of the car to tell them so when one of the security guys says, "What if they're Solorzano's people?"

Because it's possible, it's been done before-shooters dressed in AFI uniforms. Alberto sees a lot of rifle barrels sticking out at him from those cars, and then he hears, "Come out now!"

Rolling down the window, Alberto resorts to a line usually associated with Hollywood starlets who can't get a lunch table: "Do you know who I am?!"

"Step out of the vehicle!"

"I'm Alberto Tapia!" Like, you know how much food I put on your tables?

"We're not going to warn you again!"

Yeah, and I'm not going to warn you again. "You'd better talk to your boss and ask him-"

The bullet takes him squarely in the forehead.

A barrage quickly follows, after which all that remain intact in the Navigator are two suitcases full of cash and a case of expensive watches.

Still ticking.

- Eddie watches the cars race up to the safe house.

AFI troopers jump out and move toward the house in military formation, rifles to their shoulders. He's seen this on TV, when they took Contreras down in Matamoros.

Diego is staring, wide-eyed for a nice change.

"Madre ma," he says.

No shit, your mama, Eddie thinks. He tosses his burrito wrapper in the trash can and says, "We'd better get out of here."

He walks Diego away from the sidewalk cafe. Luckily, the federales are focused on this house. Eddie hears them shout, "Diego Tapia! You're surrounded! Come out with your hands on your head!"

Eddie's a block away when Diego says, "You see? La Nia Blanca protected me."

Yeah, Eddie thinks.

It was that white candle.

No question.

- Adn waits by the phone.

When it finally rings, he wishes it hadn't.

Alberto and three of his men are dead. Adn's furious-he had specifically ordered there was to be no killing, and now Alberto's dead? Diego's brother is dead?

He waits for the next call.

It comes quickly.

If the first call was a disaster, the second is catastrophic.

The federales missed Diego. They raided four safe houses and didn't find him. How could those fugeda idiots miss him? And now Diego Tapia is out there-grieving, outraged, and most likely insane for revenge.

Which he will get.

Adn goes into damage control.

"We have to find him," he tells Nacho over the phone.

Even Nacho sounds shaken up. "He's in the wind, Adn."

"Find him."

As it turns out, they don't have to find Diego. He phones Adn. "Alberto's dead. Those bastards turned on us. They killed Alberto."

He's weeping.

"Diego, where are you?"

"They killed Alberto."

"We have to get you somewhere safe," Adn says. "Tell me where you are. I'll send people."

It's a terrible risk, Adn thinks. Diego has people, more than enough people to move him, hide him, protect him, and if he were thinking clearly, he'd know that I know that and be suspicious of the offer.

"I want them dead," Diego says. "All of them. Dead."

"Where are you?"

"I'm safe, primo. But I want to die."

"Don't do anything crazy, Diego."

"I want them dead."