It had taken her more than eight hours to get to Los Angeles.
Two of those hours had been used up travelling to the border, and another two had been spent in the back of one of her lorries, crossing the border into Texas with her regular workers, dressed as one of the hired hands.
Then there had been a quick change of clothes, and a drive to a private airstrip, where a flight had been waiting to take her to the west coast.
This wasn’t actually her final destination, although, she smiled to herself, it would be someone’s final destination, and their final resting place.
“Tell me again what we know about this woman.” She turned to Pedro, one of her trusted lieutenants. “How is she involved in all this?”
“It’s all a little vague.” Pedro explained. “As you know, your cousin Rafael has something of a taste for keeping the women he’d kidnapped in what he called his ‘kennel’. Well, it looks like a group of American hostages was taken a few days ago in a mix up over some drugs.”
“And this woman is one of them?” Luciana clarified.
“According to the woman, she was right in the thick of things.” Pedro explained. “The attack on the compound which resulted in your father and Rafa being murdered, also led to the release of all the women Rafa had been keeping in the kennel. We wouldn’t have had any idea of their identities, except that this American woman decided to tell her story in… what do they call it, a ‘blog’?”
“And she specifically mentioned my father?” Luciana gritted her teeth.
“Oh yeah.” Pedro snarled. “#LuisCastille and #OnelessColombiandruglord were added to her post.”
Luciana thought it was probably a good thing she didn’t have a gun in her hand at that moment, as she was liable to shoot the next person to look at her sideways.
“And she’s agreed to meet with us?” She asked. “She’s not worried for her safety?”
“She thinks we’re from the New York Times, and we’re doing an article on her brave escape from the Colombian jungle.” Pedro snorted. “We’ve even promised her total anonymity.”
“How much does she think she’s getting paid for her story?” She glanced at Pedro.
“Two hundred thousand for an exclusive.” He smirked. “I wired a ten-thousand-dollar advance to her this morning, as a show of good faith.”
“Oh, you are so bad!” Luciana grinned at him. “I obviously trained you well!”
“You taught me many things, that’s for sure!” He leered at her. “I’d be happy to show you some of my other skills, any time you ask.”
Aah, little Pedro was getting fresh with her again. The man had offered to see to her needs on more than one occasion, and she sometimes wondered whether it would be worth taking him up on his offer. Sadly, there were too many prying eyes for her to take that chance.
“Sweet Pedro, not only do you not have a cock to match my beloved Hector, you seem rather attached to the one you’ve got.” She patted his arm. “It’s for both our sakes that I politely decline your gracious offer.”
Pedro glanced at the partition that separated the two of them from the driver, making sure it was up.
“I would take that risk, Lucky, in a heartbeat.” He moved his hand very slightly so that their fingers barely touched. “And you know I would never betray you to Hector or anyone. I am your servant.”
Pedro looked so sincere, she almost laughed. Idiot!
“Pedro, whatever you might think of my husband, he is still my husband. And as head of the cartel, he would cut your throat for making such an offer.” She pointed out. “I think it best if you don’t say such things to me again, or I might feel honour-bound to mention it to him.”
Pedro’s hand withdrew from hers quickly, and he blushed as he mumbled an apology.
“It’s Ok, my friend.” She reassured him. “But let us stick to business from now on, hmm?”
The car slowed and pulled to the kerb outside a very plush looking hotel, where a man in a uniform stepped forward and opened the door, allowing Luciana to step out as though she was royalty.
“I take it I’m paying for this place, too?” She smirked at Pedro.
“You wanted to get her here, didn’t you?” He shrugged. “She’d have been unlikely to agree to a meeting if I’d hired a room in some seedy motel, would she.”
Luciana stepped into the opulence of the reception area and immediately spotted one of her men waiting by the elevators.
Bypassing the front desk, she walked straight to the man as the elevator door swished silently open.
“I’ve booked a suite on the top floor.” He explained. “It’s on a nice quiet corner with no nosey neighbours. I bumped into Bastian in the parking garage, and called in a favour. He’s in the room with her now, keeping the lady happy.”
Bastian was an up and coming Latino singer, born, and raised just outside of Monterrey. Hector had spotted him years before, and encouraged the kid to pursue his career in music, even sponsoring him when the kid needed money to get over the border to chase a recording contract.
Of course, once Hector had been imprisoned, Luciana had been left to nurture the relationship, not least because Bastian’s tour bus had provided an excellent way to smuggle drugs into the US.
Ten years after they’d made that first connection, Bastian was a true cross-over artist, appealing to both the English and Spanish speaking markets, and as Hector predicted, he was a red-hot favourite with the ladies.
And the best part?
The guy was as dumb as a bag of spanners!
Not once had he ever questioned why Luciana continued to provide the security for his tours out of her own pocket. Nor had he ever asked why his tour schedule regularly left him criss-crossing the US/Mexican border, instead of covering the one side first, before moving to the other.
No, the guy sang his songs, pocketed the money it made him, and did as he was asked. As long as Luciana kept his wife, mama, and sisters happy, south of the border, and his boyfriend happy north of the border, Bastian was like putty in her hands.
His star continued to rise, and in the background, Luciana managed to smuggle hundreds of kilos of drugs into Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona every year.
The elevator doors opened on the top floor, and she was led to the suite at the far end of the corridor. Her guy had done well in selecting this room, as it was doubtful there would be anybody close by to hear any screaming. And there was almost always screaming.
The door opened silently at their approach, and Luciana saw another two of her men just inside the door.
“They’re in the sitting room, senora.” The first man nodded to the door on the left.
“What’s her name again?” Luciana whispered to Pedro.
“Hilary something, I think.” He shrugged.
Luciana rolled her eyes. She could hardly call the woman ‘Miss Something’, now, could she?
As they approached the open door, she could see Bastian and the woman stood at the window as Bastian pointed to something in the distance.
Bastian’s arm was around the woman’s shoulder, in a not-too innocent way, and the woman had her arm around his waist, her hand trailing lower onto his right buttock than Luciana supposed was truly necessary.
“Bastian, how lovely to see you.” Luciana exclaimed loudly, causing the pair to jump apart. “Have you been keeping the lovely lady company while she waited?”
“Lucky!” The singer grinned. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you. How are you?”
Luciana almost winced. Honesty was probably not the order of the day.
“I’m good, Bas, you know, but so incredibly busy today.” She hugged the guy in a platonic way then stepped back quickly. “I’m going to be terribly rude, and cut this little meeting short, I’m afraid. I have to speak to lovely Hilary here, and then be on my way as quickly as possible. But we can catch up soon, my friend. Next time you’re close to the house, you must come to dinner.”
“Of course, of course. That would be most marvellous.” Bastian smiled warmly at her, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was politely telling him to fuck off out of her room.
“Hilary, it was a pleasure talking to you.” He bowed gallantly before allowing Pedro to guide him to the door with a few jokes and a pat on the back.
When the door closed quietly behind him, she turned to see the woman staring after Bastian with a stupid grin on her face.
Now there’s the look of a fucking horny woman, she thought. And Luciana should know!
“Hilary, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us.” Luciana waved to the chairs. “As I explained, I am in rather a hurry today, so I’d like to get as much information from you as possible for my article.”
“Oh, of course.” The woman slipped into the chair opposite Luciana. “Your associate said that the rest of the money will be wired to me as soon as the article is published. Do you know when that will be?”
“Greedy bitch!” Luciana thought.
“Well, if I can get it written up on the plane this evening, it will probably be in print in tomorrow’s edition, and available online from about four am, Eastern.” She smiled, not actually sure if that sounded reasonable or not, and not particularly caring either. The woman was obviously just after the money and had no interest in anything beyond.
“Your friend said you’d be rushed, so I wrote a few of the basics down for you.” Hilary slid over a piece of paper. “But I’m happy to answer any questions you have. I’ve got a good memory.”
“Ok, thanks. Well, obviously, I’ve read your blog, and it seems you had a great adventure down in Colombia.” Luciana began, ignoring the paper on the table. “Could you tell me some more about how you came to be there?”
Hilary stared at her.
“Aren’t you going to record this or write any notes?” She asked, looking puzzled.
Shit, Luciana thought, she should have thought this through a little better!
“I have that covered.” Pedro sat just to the side of Hilary on a sofa, waving his mobile phone at her and smiling. “Modern technology is so much better than the old-fashioned dictaphone or pad and pencil, don’t you think?”
“I guess.” Hilary nodded, giving Pedro a serious look-over.
“So, you were saying?” Luciana prompted.
The woman started bleating about the trip she had taken to Colombia, some mission to help sick kids or some such nonsense. Luciana let her ramble on for a few minutes trying to look interested, nodding and murmuring as though she was finding it all absolutely fascinating.
When the story turned to the mix-up with the boat and the drugs, it was all Luciana could do not to laugh.
Her cousin Rafael was never one of her favourite people, always thinking he was smarter than he really was, but even Luciana would never have believed him to be so stupid as to leave that amount of cocaine laying around, the sole responsibility for which lay with his dumb-as-fuck lieutenants.
She listened to Hilary drone on for a few more minutes, until her attention was caught again.
“Sorry, could you repeat that last part? You met Luis Castille?” Luciana asked.
“Yes, we were taken to the office where Rafael and Luis Castille were waiting for us.” Hilary nodded. “Rafael was pretty good looking, in a scary kind of way. Luis Castille was just scary, though. Like psychopath scary, y’know? All quiet and sinister and shit.”
Luciana wanted to growl at the woman that Luis Castille was her father, and the bitch shouldn’t be talking about the dead like that, but when she caught Pedro’s eyes, and saw the half-grin on his face, she stayed silent.
Ok, so Hilary had described her father perfectly, without ever knowing it, but still… he was Luciana’s father, after all!
“So, tell me more about how you all escaped.” She prompted. “Presumably you had help?”
“Yes, one of the other Americans on our team was the daughter of a rich daddy, and he pulled some strings, first of all to get some army people sent down to rescue us.” Hilary explained. “But when that didn’t work, he hired some mercenaries or something to come and get us. That did the trick.”
“Mercenaries?” Luciana was struggling to keep her voice even.
“Yeah, well, some of those ex-military security guys. Guns for hire, I suppose you could say. One of them was related to one of the soldiers who was sent in the first place.” Hilary shrugged. “I don’t think he was very good at his job though, the soldier. Luis Castille shot him before they could get away.”
“He did?” Luciana was struggling not to fist-pump.
“Yeah, him and another guy got shot by Castille as they were helping people onto the helicopter.” Hilary nodded.
“Were you there when it happened?” Luciana asked curiously.
“No, I wasn’t. The girl with the rich daddy and the rest of us got out on another helicopter before the shit hit the fan.” Hilary shrugged. “But what I just told you definitely happened. I got it from someone who was there, and we all flew home together on Sophia’s daddy’s plane.”
“Sophia? Her daddy was the one who got you all out?” Luciana probed.
Hilary startled.
“Yeah, but you can’t use her name. I was told I mustn’t mention the names of the others I was travelling with. Or else, y’know?” She explained.
“We can keep that totally off the record, for sure.” Luciana smiled. “So, he flew you all home?”
“Yeah, once the rescue helicopters got back, it was complete chaos.” Hilary wasn’t above hyping up the drama! “The two mercenary guys had been hit in some kind of shoot-out with Luis Castille, so when they got back to the airfield it was all hands-on deck to get them triaged and onto the plane. Gregor’s Russian military friends took over and cleared out the compound.”
“Gregor?” Luciana prompted.
“Yeah, Sophia’s dad, Gregor Diminov, the Russian mega-billionaire. But you can’t use his name either.” Hilary pointed out. “Well, he paid for the whole thing.”
“So, it was the Russian military who killed Luis Castille, is that right?” Luciana kept the smile on her face even though she thought it might kill her.
“No, it was one of the mercenaries who killed Luis. The same ones that killed Rafael and his men in the river.” Hilary explained with a satisfied nod.
“They shot both Rafa and Luis?” Luciana clarified.
“Yeah, that was what I heard.” Hilary nodded confidently. “They deserved it too. Raping, murdering bastards! I was told that Luis took half a dozen shots to the head. Blew his face to pieces! It couldn’t have happened to a nicer fucker, either!”
Luciana took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
She casually reached down beside her and picked up her purse.
“You know, sometimes people aren’t exactly what you think they are.” She pointed out.
Luciana placed her purse on her lap and reached inside for her gun. Without pulling it out she slipped her other hand inside, reaching for the silencer and screwing it firmly in place.
“I mean, did it ever occur to you that Luis Castille might have a family somewhere? That he might be someone’s father, maybe. That he might have people who loved him?” She asked quietly.
“Puh-lease!” Hilary scoffed. “He was a drug-dealing piece of shit, who didn’t care for anyone or anything but himself.”
Luciana’s eyes narrowed at Hilary’s words, but the woman didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy calling Luis Castille all the mother-fucking sons-of-bitches and many other names in her admittedly expansive vocabulary.
When she ran out of steam, Hilary glanced to the side to see Pedro putting his phone away.
“Are we done?” She asked, confused.
Luciana smiled at the American.
“Oh, ‘we’ are far from done.” Luciana pointed between herself and Pedro. “You, however, are completely done.”
Hilary tilted her head to one side, obviously trying to fathom what exactly Luciana meant, and in doing so, completely failed to spot Luciana’s gun being pulled from her purse, silencer in place.
It was only as Luciana raised the gun to head height, pointing it straight at Hilary’s face, that the girl actually realised what was going on.
“But… why?” She whispered, obviously still clueless as to why someone might want to shoot her, especially not here in an upmarket Los Angeles hotel.
“Unfortunately for us both, Luis Castille was, in fact, my beloved papa.” Luciana said quietly. “And if you think he was a mother-fucking psycho… you ain’t seen nuthin’ yet!”
Without hesitating, Luciana lowered her gun and fired two shots, one into each of Hilary’s knees.
The woman’s gasp and scream of pain didn’t last long as she crumpled to the floor in front of Luciana.
“Stop… please…?” Hilary gasped as Luciana pointed the weapon again with intent.
“You like head-shots, hmm?” Luciana murmured, squeezing the trigger over and over until all she could hear was the click, click, of the empty chamber.
Hilary’s body flew backwards from the impact of the close-range shots, and landed sprawled on her back, a pool of blood forming on the carpet beneath what was left of her face.
Luciana stepped closer and glared down at Hilary’s one remaining eye.
“How’d you like those fucking head-shots?” She snarled.
Pedro’s arm around her shoulders brought Luciana’s attention back to the situation.
“Come on, Lucky.” He smiled at her. “We have a Russian billionaire to visit.”
Luciana nodded, picking up the woman’s purse, from where she removed Hilary’s wallet with her ID in it, and then snatched up the piece of paper Hilary had given her and stuffed them both in her pocket.
“Gather up everything else and meet me at the car.” She didn’t spare the corpse a second glance. “We’ve certainly got a busy time ahead.”