Two men faced off in the middle of the warehouse. Rivals with a deep hatred that boiled over from time to time and ended in bloodshed between the opposing drug cartels. Guzman’s man held his ground. Iceman, by far the deadliest lieutenant in Guzman’s crew, didn’t know how to do anything else. Cool, calm, unfeeling, the perfect embodiment of his nickname.

Which is why Guzman sent his number one enforcer to meet Manuel “Manny” Castillo to broker a truce between the two outfits. The last time things got this hot between the two rivals, twenty-three men lost their lives in five days. Judging by the hostility filling the massive room today, they wouldn’t settle anything any time soon.

“You crossed the line, Castillo. I’m surprised a cowardly piece of shit like you showed.”

DEA Special Agent Dawson King—just King to everyone who knew him—held both men in the crosshairs of his sniper rifle scope. He’d been lying in wait for more than ten hours. He’d watched both cartels’ men come in and search the building—missing King, thanks to his stealth—and give the all-clear to their respective leaders. Neither side trusted the other.

Iceman had a man covering his back two rows over on the east side of the building. Manny had a man on the west. None of the men in the building knew King hid in the shadows, perfectly still, concealed, and ready to strike when he gave the order for the raid.

Meetings like this were usually held out in the open in some remote place, making an ambush impossible. Why take the risk of meeting in an enclosed warehouse? He tried to stay focused on them and not their stupidity.

Castillo’s smile didn’t inspire one to believe he wanted peace. His words backed that up. “You come after me and mine, you can bet your ass I’ll go after the one and only person you love.”

King had no idea what the two evil bastards were bitching about, especially since neither had a conscience or a soul. Not when they both went after what they wanted and didn’t care who they took out or hurt in the process.

King wondered if Iceman knew Castillo was packing. Iceman’s guy patted Castillo down, but King would bet his left nut Castillo had a small gun tucked in his heavy jacket that the guy missed in his cursory search. King couldn’t believe Iceman let his guy get away with such an inept job. Why hadn’t Iceman ordered Castillo to discard his jacket at the door like Iceman had done, showing good faith that he’d come to this meeting unarmed?

It didn’t add up. King didn’t like it when things didn’t make sense. It sent an icy chill up his spine.

“Ready, one?” Special Agent Griffin’s voice filled his ear through his com. He’d requested King for this op when his team intercepted a coded message. He wanted the best sniper the DEA had in Montana. Since his counterpart, Trigger, was out of commission after taking out Guzman’s cousin Marco and getting shot in the process, that put King in his perch and these men in his sight.

He and Trigger had a friendly rivalry on the shooting range. Trigger bested him most of the time, but he made King work that much harder to kick Trigger’s ass.

King listened as the three teams checked in, everyone ready to end this on King’s call.

Any time now.

He tensed his thighs and calves, trying to get his blood flowing after lying in one position so long. He kept his aim and his eye on the two men facing off, talking about some personal beef instead of the business they were here to work out to stop the bloodshed between the two groups.

Neither thing mattered because they weren’t going back to deliver the terms of the ceasefire to their bosses. They were headed straight to jail on a list of charges that would keep them behind bars the rest of their lives.

“You won’t have time to regret what you did,” Iceman warned. “Payback is a bitch.”

An egomaniac like Manny overreacted to taunts like that. King didn’t know why Iceman, a guy as cold and calculating as his name implied, goaded the other man rather than sticking to business. He had to know Manny would push back.

And in a split second, he did, pulling the small pistol from his jacket.

Iceman stood with his back to King. He couldn’t see Iceman’s face, but the man went stock still and spread his hands wide and held them out at his sides.

“I’ll fucking kill you right here, right now, asshole.” Manny practically spit out the words, pointing the gun right in Iceman’s face.

“Go,” King ordered into his mic. They needed to use this distraction to their advantage and get these two in cuffs before Manny killed Iceman and the DEA lost its chance to get the goods on Guzman’s crew.

“No, you won’t.” Iceman’s words boasted confidence. Too much.

A chill danced up King’s spine.

Manny’s eyes narrowed.

King knew exactly what was coming and made the split-second choice. He fired to Iceman’s right, hitting the cement floor, kicking up chunks, and predictably making Iceman step to his left. Manny froze, surprised by the shot. King pinned Manny in his sight and fired, killing the man before Manny shot Iceman.

Iceman spun around. Even though he couldn’t possibly see King, he smiled and gave King a two-finger salute.

DEA agents poured into the building on both sides.

Manny’s man started firing, drawing agents in his direction. It gave Iceman’s man the few seconds he needed to toss out two smoke bombs.

Visibility obscured, King didn’t have a shot at Iceman. He couldn’t take out the unarmed man anyway.

He swore, shifted focus, and took out Manny’s man as he fired at and held back the other agents.

What should have been an easy takedown turned into a fucking mess.

And Iceman got away.

King swore when he spotted the open window that had originally been blocked by a heavily laden rack of boxes. A window King didn’t see behind the obstacle that he now realized was on wheels and shoved aside to provide the perfect escape. King hoped one of the agents left to cover the building outside intercepted Iceman, but the sound of two motorcycles indicated the men had found an easy escape. Too easy.

The DEA had been played.

The intercepted message nothing but a ruse to get the DEA here.

On a much more disturbing note, Iceman set King up to make the kill. He’d wanted Manny dead and used King to do it for him, knowing Manny would come armed. That inept search by his man had been on purpose. Iceman had led Manny to believe he had the advantage, all the while Iceman coldly planned and executed his death without firing a shot himself.

Iceman set King and the DEA up as the scapegoat so the Castillo family didn’t go after Guzman for Manny’s death.

King let loose a string of curses, laid down his rifle and his forehead on his hands and vowed he’d get that bastard if it was the last thing he ever did.