"Can we discuss this in the morning?"

"No. Where's Carson?"

"I assume sleeping. It's after one in the morning."

"Wake. Him. Up."

"He's set up a parallel structure, moved all the money, shut down the compromised corporations, and I verified the funds were transferred. What is the fucking problem, Jasmine?"

"The fucking FBI is the fucking problem, Dominick," she snapped. "Some bitch photographer turned over her photos to the FBI. Including one of me. They didn't have a photo of me! Until now."

"They don't know it's you."

"They will. You know people won't keep their fucking mouths shut. It's just a matter of time. They raided the law office this afternoon. They'll eventually trace the companies to me. My name has been clean for years. Why do you think I kept the King name?"

"Your name is Flores; it's never been clean, so don't play the innocent card, Jasmine."

"And then I land here after a horrific flight and get a call-Lance is dead. So is his entire team. The fucking FBI found both houses where we stashed the girls after I had to shut down the safe house. So not only did I lose my investment, I have no fucking staff!"

"Jasmine, we have company, calm down."

Jasmine turned to Sean and scowled. "I don't know you."

"And," Dominick said, "you won't see him again after tonight. I had Flora prepare the Rose Suite for you. I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Have you listened to anything I've said?" Jasmine paced. She was acting wired-as if she had partaken in some of the illegal substances that the Flores family was known for smuggling.

Or maybe she was fueled on anger. Either way, Sean couldn't let this woman know who he was, who his family was. She was too volatile, and even if she didn't put it together right away, she most certainly would know Kane. If not by sight, by name and reputation.

"Have a drink." Dominick snapped his fingers and the bartender brought out a bottle of French Cabernet that went for easily three hundred dollars a pop.

Jasmine smiled. "Thank you, Bernie, you remembered."

"Always, Ms. Jasmine."

He opened the bottle and poured her a glass. Dominick glanced at Sean, but Sean couldn't read his expression.

Jasmine sipped, then pulled out her phone. She had a number on speed dial, and waited. "Carson, were you sleeping? Good. Then come down to the courtyard. We need a plan, and we need it now." She hung up.

"I don't need to be part of this," Sean said to Dominick.

"And you are who?" Jasmine snapped.

Dominick reddened. "Jasmine, a word." He walked across the atrium and Jasmine hesitated, then followed, a bit more nervous. Sean couldn't hear what they were saying, but he was ready. He hoped. He had the exits identified, but chances were they were covered. And anyone on the landing above would have a clear target.

Shit. They had two plans-the first, for Sean to get out the front entrance, then head around to the southeast corner, on the assumption that they'd bring Kane to him. The second, if Dominick stalled or didn't bring Kane out, Sean was to slip out a side door that Gabriella was supposed to have cleared for him. He stared at it. It was partly obscured by the bar, but she'd told Jack it would lead directly into the kitchen, and the service entrance off the kitchen would be unmanned. Sean didn't know what Gabriella planned to do-probably kill the guard and assume Kane and crew would be blamed. But a kitchen would have knives, and Sean could arm himself.

Dominick walked back to Sean. Jasmine sat on a lounge chair, kicked off her heels, and sipped her wine, purposefully ignoring them. "My sister is justifiably angry. Your money has cleared the gate. Wait in the foyer; I'll have my men bring your brother down the back way." He glanced at Jasmine. Dominick hated her. It was clear as day. But she was family. Blood.

Blood always wins.

Kane had told him that over and over again.

Dominick extended his hand and Sean took it. A sign of respect that Sean didn't feel, and Dominick could see that, but it still pleased him that Sean went through the motions. "You hope I never see you again."

"Ditto."

He started toward the foyer. As soon as he reached the double doors, they opened and in walked Carson Spade.

Carson stared at him and Sean pretended he didn't recognize him, but the moment passed quickly. Carson hit Sean in the jaw. Sean was able to duck, but Carson still grazed his chin.

"Flores! Do you know who this-" Carson stopped mid-sentence and ran across the atrium.

"Carson!" Jasmine shouted. "What are you doing?"

"He's here for my son!"

It was clear both Jasmine and Dominick were confused. But as Carson ran up the stairs, a guard emerged from Kane's room. "He's gone!" the man shouted.

Sean didn't wait. He bolted. Someone fired a gun, but he didn't know if it was at him or Carson. All he knew was that the bullet didn't hit him.

He almost ran out the front door, but three armed men were running up the drive toward the house, so Sean went right, around to where he hoped the kitchen was, based on the intel they had.

This place was a maze, but he ran through a dining room and the kitchen was straight ahead. It was huge. There were no knives sitting on the counter, and he didn't have time to search. He ran out the service door expecting to be attacked, but no one was there. Two steps later the yard burst alive with spotlights shining from what seemed like every corner of the house. Shouts came from everywhere. There was no place to hide.

Two men rounded the corner, guns drawn, aimed at Sean.

A small explosion shook the ground, and every light went off simultaneously-the spotlights and the house-lights. Adrenaline made his ears ring and Sean hesitated, just for a moment ... what if Kane and Jesse were still inside?

Trust your brother. That's why you brought him.

A second small explosion came thirty seconds later and propelled Sean toward the rendezvous point in the southeast corner.

Sean couldn't see anything, but he'd memorized the layout of the house and the compound grounds. He knew exactly where he had to be. And prayed Kane was there, with Jesse.

Gunfire behind him was closer than he expected. There was no place to hide, but the shooters couldn't see him, either. He was in the middle of a sick game of Russian roulette. Anything that hit him would be out of sheer luck, but there was still the chance that a bullet would hit the back of his head and he'd be dead, here in Guadalajara.

Not tonight. You're not going to die tonight.

He zigzagged, kept as low as he possibly could, stumbled, kept moving toward the southeast corner. But in the dark and with all the noise, he was losing his sense of direction. Was he heading to the right corner? Had he messed up? Shouldn't he be there by now?

He slowed down, listened, and heard a whistle. Kane's unique whistle.

He turned to the right and bolted through the new hole in Flores's stone and metal wall, courtesy of Jack and JT.

"We have a problem," Jack said.

"Jesse," was the only thing Sean could say as he gasped for air.

Please don't tell me he's dead. Please don't.

"He's here," Kane said.

Sean glanced over. Standing behind Kane was his son. His son.

He didn't know what to say. Thank you to Kane was inadequate. Hello to Jesse, likewise. He just stared.

"We need to retrieve Spade," JT said.

"What the hell for?" Sean snapped back to attention. "He made his bed, let him die in it."

Then he looked at Jesse. This boy considered Carson his father. The man who had raised him. The only father he knew.

"Rick Stockton needs him in the States," JT said. "Rick has covered our ass many times and asks for little in return; we're doing this. There's no way they'll get him extradited before he slips away. He has far too many assets and properties. He's not just a small-time accountant laundering money for a crime boss. He's the only accountant for the entire Flores crime syndicate. He knows everything."

"But we're on a clock," Kane said. "If Dante did what I expected him to do, the Velasquez crime family has sent a team to take care of business. We don't want to be here for that battle."

A female voice said, "You made a promise to me, Jack Kincaid."

Sean looked over and saw Gabriella Romero. Tall, slender, beautiful. Exotic would be the right word.

Jack said, "Sean, Matt Elliott is at the rendezvous point, and he has the coordinates you need to pick us up."

JT handed Sean a .45. "You'll have a tricky landing and takeoff, but you're the best."

"That I am," Sean said, though he didn't feel at all confident at this moment. Then he spotted the duffel bag that had the bearer bonds and cash. "What-you got it back."

"Took out Flores's goons before they arrived at the gate. We can't let anyone have these bonds. Take them with you. The cash is going to Romero-he earned it."

Kane grunted. Sean didn't know what Dante actually had done, but clearly JT and Kane didn't see eye-to-eye on this.

"Go," Kane told Sean. He glanced down at Jesse. "Trust us, kid." He handed Jesse a phone. "When this beeps, call Carson's cell phone."

Jesse nodded. He was pale as a ghost, but he stood tall.

Kane, Jack, JT, and Gabriella went back into the compound. Sean wanted to go with them.

But it was just him and Jesse, and he would do anything to protect his son.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

For all her flaws-mostly criminal flaws-Gabriella had done everything she said she would and more. It had been Jack's plan to take out the lights, but Gabriella had taken care of the backup generators first. Kane was going to owe her and Dante big time, and he didn't like owing criminals anything. He and Dante were going to have a heart-to-heart when this was all said and done. If Dante could recuse himself from some of the shadier businesses, Kane could look away from the other shit. But he didn't think Dante could turn down the money. He wasn't a distributor, smuggler, or grower ... he was a moneyman. A negotiator. The arbitrator when two crime families-like the Flores and the Velasquez families-had a disagreement.

And sometimes, like now, it paid for Dante to know everyone's secrets.

But Kane sure as hell didn't like him knowing the Rogan family secrets.

Kane and JT split off from Gabriella and Jack. They had their own plan, and it didn't include grabbing Carson Spade.

JT didn't work in the field anymore, but there were some things that were so ingrained, it was like they'd been working together for years. They didn't need words. A nod, subtle body movement, hand signs. It was like old times, but Kane was acutely aware that JT was rusty. Just because he had once been among the elite didn't mean his reaction time was the same. Kane hadn't thought Jack would bring in JT and Matt Elliott to implement Kane's plan-Matt was a fucking prosecutor and hadn't run an op since he left the Navy SEALs umpteen years ago. JT-he was more in the game, but not from this side of the war.

But that was a conversation for another day. Today was about survival. And finding that bastard Carson Spade.

He looked at the countdown on his watch. When Jesse called Carson, whether or not he answered his phone, Kane would have his exact location. Sean was brilliant, though Kane stopped telling him that long ago. Why inflate his ego any more? Sean had created an app so that even if the person had GPS turned off, if they were called from a phone with the app, any other phone with that app could track them to a ten-foot radius. If they answered the phone, a virus wormed its way in so the individual could be tracked even when they terminated the call.

Unless of course they took out the battery. But Kane didn't think Carson would suspect anything. And he would absolutely answer a phone when the caller ID had been programmed to show the name JESSE.

JT held up his hand and Kane stopped. They were flush against the back wall of the house, partly obscured by scraggly oak trees. Kane looked at the watch again. One minute. He held up one finger to JT, who nodded.

A group of four guards ran past them toward the back wall.

Thirty seconds.

Kane and JT entered through the same service door that Sean had escaped from. A guard stood there as sentry, but hesitated just a second, surprised that the man who had escaped had returned. Kane hit him in his neck and broke his windpipe. Quiet, effective, deadly.

They ran through the kitchen and stood in the butler's pantry. Kane looked at his watch. Ten seconds. He took out the small tablet Sean had given him. The light was so dim he almost couldn't see the screen, but he didn't dare turn it up. He launched the app and waited. Listened. There was still chaos outside, but inside the atrium there was only a shouting match between Jasmine and Dominick.

He caught parts of the fight because the atrium echoed.

Rogan! How dare you!

Bitch.

Fool.

They won't get out of Jalisco alive.

They're not here, are they?

The app showed Kane as a white dot and Carson's phone as a green dot. It was moving, about twenty feet from them and walking rapidly away.

Kane motioned down the hall that marked the atrium's northern perimeter. JT nodded. They both moved down the hall and pursued Carson. They were getting closer when a shout and gunfire had them taking cover.

"Get him," JT said. "I got you."

Kane didn't like leaving his partner, but he also couldn't let Carson Spade get away. He bolted down the hall and into a room.

Carson had a gun on him. Kane reached out and disarmed him immediately. Fucking accountant and lawyer, not a soldier.

Carson stared at him wild-eyed. "You took my son!"

"My nephew," Kane said in a low voice, "never forget it."