Free PRIMAL Reckoning (Book 1 in the Redemption Trilogy, the PRIMAL Series Book 5) by Jack Silkstone Page B

us.”
    “The Chaquetas
have friends in high places,” said Emilio.
    “Not the
Chaquetas. The miners.”
    “So now
we’re fighting the police as well as them? That’s too much. We don’t even have
proper guns.”
    “You’re
right.” He sighed. “Maybe for now, we just need to find a way to hurt the mine.”
    “How are
we going to do that without guns?”
    “By destroying
their machines,” Roberto said with conviction. “If they can’t get the gold out
of the ground they can’t pay the Chaquetas or the policia . Without the gold they’re weak. We need to go to the mine
and see how we can stop them from digging.”
    Emilio
looked thoughtful. “The mine will have explosives, we may be able to use them. But,
it will also be heavily guarded by the Chaquetas.”
    “We can
sneak past those fools. They’re criminals, ill-disciplined, and soft.”
    They
arrived at the back of the safe house and Carlos tooted the horn twice. A
sliding steel door opened an inch before the man inside identified them and dragged
it open.
    “Perhaps
it’s time to go to the Sinaloa for help,” said Emilio as his son parked the
truck and they climbed out.
    Roberto tried
to flex his arm and winced. “Not yet. We hide out here till things quiet down.
Then we go look at the mine.” He followed Emilio through the back door of the
house into the kitchen. “If we need help, after that we can go to the Sinaloa.”
He sat at the computer in the corner of the room and logged in to the email
account that Christina had set up for him. He hit reply to the test message she
had sent and started typing.

 
    ***

 
    FORT BLISS, TEXAS

 
    Terrance
Howard scratched his crotch as he guzzled from an oversized can of energy
drink. He was having a shit day. His boss, the director of Joint Task Force
South, had issued him with an official warning regarding his dress and
attitude. The director was a relic, he thought. A moron who believed that wearing
a suit and calling everyone sir made you a better analyst.
    It was the second warning he’d received
this month and it meant he was not going to be promoted anytime soon. That
pissed him off. He ran rings around his colleagues and yet they had all been promoted
a pay grade, or even two, above him.
    Despite
his boss, Howard had enjoyed his two years at the Task Force. As a CIA analyst
he loved his role supporting the multitude of CIA activities across Latin
America. Currently the focus was on cartel activities and border control, his
areas of expertise.
    One of
the NSA signals analysts attached to the JTF stuck his head over the partition
that separated them. “Hey, Howard.”
    He dropped
his feet off his desk and rotated his chair to face the junior analyst. “What
do you want, dipshit?”
    “I got a
hit on that email address you put on cover.”
    “Well
then, what are you waiting for? Flick it over.”
    “You sure
this shit’s legit, man. I mean, this chick’s an American citizen.”
    “Yeah but
I bet the douche bag emailing her isn’t. She’s got herself linked in with a
bunch of nasty mofos down in Chihuahua.”
    “I still
think this should go past the director.”
    “We don’t
need to do that, Sam. Otherwise, we might have to let him know about the
illegal tap you put on the guy who was banging your ex.”
    “You’re an
asshole, Howard.”
    “I’m the
asshole who tailed the bitch and found out she was messing around on you.”
    “Whatever.”
Sam disappeared back into his own cubicle.
    A few
seconds later the email Roberto sent Christina appeared in his inbox. “Boom!” After
scanning the email, he pried himself from his chair, grabbed a packet of cigarettes,
and waddled out of the secure office. Outside in the designated smoking area he
dialed the number for Source 88 as he smoked. “I just got a very interesting
email on that journo’s account you wanted monitored.”
    “What’s
it say?” drawled Pershing.
    “That’s
not the way this works, George. You give me some