Whiskey pulled into the gas station on the outskirts of San Antonio, drove up to the nearest pump, and shut down his bike. Putting the kickstand down, he swung his leg over the engine and went about filling his tank.

When he went inside to pay for his gas, he caught the eye of the woman behind the counter. She was wide eyed and a little fearful of him but then most people were. He stood six foot six and over three hundred pounds of pure muscle. His broad shoulders and lean waist lent him an air of respect, so when he needed it, most people just got out of his way rather than tangle with him.

His curly blonde hair was a little longer than he usually wore it, and dark blue eyes and dark blondish brown beard along with his usual scowl reinforced the message not to mess with him. Right now though, he was tired and just needed to get where he was meant to be. This trip was a five hour trip and he had almost an hour to go yet.

He paid for his gas, grabbed a candy bar, and was out the door without saying a word to the woman behind the counter. He made quick work of the candy bar and made sure to throw his trash away, then got back on the bike and headed toward Hondo.

When he got the call from Lightning last night, the other man had told him they needed his help in taking down a cartel stronghold. They wanted to blow it up and they needed him to set the charges to go boom.

In another lifetime, Whiskey had been a demolitions man in the service of his country. He’d been called the best there ever was as he could lay a charge and pinpoint exactly how much damage it would do. He was spot on in his evaluations every time because he knew what he was doing. But that had been a long time ago. Over seven years ago to be exact. It seemed like forever ago to him.

He took his hand off the handle for a moment and rubbed it over his chest briefly, over the tattoo that was seven years old. The tat was an infinity symbol, a sideways laying number eight. One of the circles held his wife’s name and the other held his baby son’s name and his last name was underneath. Chantal, Moran and his last name Giovanni. His Italian daddy had named him Roman just before he walked out the door, never to return and his mom had raised him on her own. She was a proud woman and had passed that pride down on her son. She never talked his dad down even though she had every right to, but she never would. Vito never understood that but he accepted it, he had to. She never let him talk bad about his old man either. It was something that just was.

He’d gotten the road name, Whiskey because that’s what he always drank. So the name stuck. For the first two years after he’d lost his whole world, that’s all he would drink. Then his mom found him and she sobered him up with just a few words. As long as he lived, he would never forget those words, just as he would never forget his late wife and dead son.

So now, he was on his way to blow up stuff and send the cartel back to the hell from which it came, or at least that was the plan anyway. That was good with him. They were peddler’s of misery. Selling human beings, drugs and ruining lives. All for greed. He was just fine with blowing up as many of them as he could.

The late afternoon sun was almost blinding as he pulled into the compound later in the day. He saw several of the brothers outside and he grinned when he saw Lightning. He was standing with a woman and small child.

Lightning noticed that he’d arrived and he smiled. Grabbing the woman and the kid he made his way over to where Whiskey was sitting on his bike. Holding out his hand the two friends shook hands.

“You’ve been busy.” Whiskey drawled as he looked at the woman and kid standing beside Lightning.

Lightning grinned. “You bet your ass I’ve been busy. This is my woman Nala and her little brother Paco. They belong to me now.”

Whiskey nodded. “Congrats man.” He looked over at Nala and grinned. “I hope you know what you’re getting into with this guy.”

Nala smiled. “I think I do. He’s told me all about you.”

Whiskey held up his hands and shook his head. “All lies, whatever he told you is all lies.”

Nala chuckled. “Oh, I doubt that.”

“Do you really blow things up? For real?” Paco asked him with awe in his voice.

Whiskey looked down at the kid and nodded. “Sure do.” Leaning down, he whispered, “Do you want to know something?”

Paco nodded solemnly.

Whiskey grinned and told him, “Blowing sh…stuff up is fun.” He winked at the boy.

Paco giggled.

The grin on Lightning’s face was strained now, as he looked at Whiskey. “The boys are waiting inside.”

Whiskey nodded and swung his leg over the bike and got to his feet. He rose to his full height, six foot five inches and stretching his tall form out from the ride, he let out a long breath as he turned and headed over to the entrance.

When he got inside, he spotted big ole’ Cobra sitting with his woman. His father, Python sat at the same table along with Cotton. He saw GTO sitting at the next table over with a woman as well. Shaking his head, he approached Cobra’s table. GTO and Whiskey with women of their own. Will wonders never cease? He fought his smile at the thought. “I’m told you need something to go boom, boss.” He stared at Cobra.

“And I hear you can make that happen with very little mess.” Cobra cocked his head to one side.

“Depends on how bad you want the target gone.” Whiskey looked into his eyes.

“I want it destroyed completely.” Cobra growled.

“I can do that.” Whiskey nodded.

“Actually kid, we got two targets we need gone,” Python spoke up. “We’d like them done at the same time but between here and there is a six hour ride.”

“That can still be done old man,” Whiskey informed him.

Python sat up and glared at him. “How would you do it?”

“I can do a delayed timer or remote with someone you trust holding it six hours away.”

Python thought about that for a moment then nodded. “That can be arranged if you lay the charge.”

Whiskey nodded. “What do you want me to rig?”

GTO’s woman lifted her head. “My family’s drug labs.”

Whiskey turned his head and looked at her with curiosity. “Your family?”

“My name is Luisa Brago,” she told him as she studied his response.

Whiskey’s body went cold but he made no outward response to her statement. He looked over at GTO. “She’s your woman then?”

GTO nodded.

Whiskey looked away his gaze landing on Python. “The name of these drug labs?”

“Macon Distributors.” Python growled.

“The liquor stores?” Whiskey frowned.

“They are fronts for the labs,” Python explained. “The labs are under the stores.” He snorted. “The cartel tried to arrest Monica Sazar, one of their own lead chemists, and when she tried to fight back they killed her but at the same time they took her brothers into custody. They didn’t seem to be heartbroken at her death.”

“Well, shit. Many MC’s get their liquor supplies from that company. How did you get your information?” Whiskey wanted to know.

“From my woman, Nala,” Lightning told him as he showed up at the table.

“And how did she get this information?” Whiskey frowned.

“Monica is or rather, was Paco’s mom,” Lightning told him. “Now, all the kid has left is Nala and me.”

“And all of us,” Python added with a growl.

“And just how did this Monica person come under your scrutiny?” Whiskey wanted to know.

“We were checking the rubble of a warehouse explosion when Lightning found the kid,” Python explained. “The kid was looking for some help for his sister. That’s how we found Nala. Then we heard her story and we were able to let the cartel know Monica was screwing them over and keeping some of the profit they were getting for the drugs she invented. The cartel went after her and she fought back.” He shook his head. “The dumb bitch should have known better.” He paused then added, “It was Nala that told us about the labs and where they were.”

“And Luisa?” Whiskey asked.

“Luisa is part of the cartel we’re here to take down, that’s true,” Cobra stated. “But she’s also one that never wanted that life. She knows her family will never give up the drugs so she walked away.”

“And they let her?” Whiskey raised an eyebrow.

“No, Senior,” Luisa whispered. “They did not let me and my fight is far from over. My older brother, Arturo came after me. He would have seen me dead rather than alive for my betrayal. Now, he’s dead. I have another brother Javier and a cousin Carmen. They are all that’s left of the male members of my family.”

“Javier was getting on a boat to take him back to Mexico when we blew it up,” Lightning explained. “The last anyone saw of him was when he dove into the river. We don’t know if he’s dead or alive at the moment. We haven’t found his body yet.”

Whiskey looked at Luisa then over at Python. “Will the cartel fold when all your brothers are brought down?”

“I doubt it senior,” Luisa assured them. “I have a mother and two aunts. They might be down but they will pick up the pieces and start over. They all lost their husbands and now most of their sons, they will fight back, and my aunts are vengeful women. They will not stop until a bullet takes them.”

“And your cousin, Carmen?” Whiskey asked. “What kind of man is he?”

“He will become your worst nightmare,” Luisa told them. “He is a cruel man, a spoiled brat as a child who was denied nothing. The more he was allowed to get away with the more he pushed it. His father taught him well how to torture his victims. He was trained how to fight with guns and blades. He is a master with the blades and his knives are all hand forged with special metals. He is a bastard who doesn’t care who knows what he’s done.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Cobra asked with a growl.

Luisa turned her head with tears in her eyes. “As I said before, Carmen likes to torture his victims He likes to use his blades and his favorite game is stabbing his victim and making them bleed. When he plays his games, the wounds are nonlethal but when he reaches a certain point, he replaces the play boring and he takes his final cut. He usually plunges a blade into their throats. Then before he walks away he leaves a carving in their forehead.”

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