Chapter 5 - FRACTURED ALLIANCES
Seventy miles away, on the suburban outskirts of Guadalajara, Gabriel was crouching behind a concrete perimeter wall surrounding a heavily guarded two-story compound disguised as a private rehabilitation clinic.
He wore dark tactical attire, equipped with a silenced pistol, night-vision goggles, and a tactical combat knife. His ear piece buzzed with static before a voice came through—Victoria Sandoval, speaking from a secure line in Tapalpa.
"Gabriel! We have a crisis!" Victoria’s voice was frantic, laced with panic. "The ranch was attacked! Carlos engaged a strike team at your front gate!"
Gabriel felt his entire world stop. The air left his lungs like a physical blow. "Valeria? The kids?"
"Carlos managed to eliminate two of the attackers and wound a third before they retreated," Victoria reported, her voice shaking. "But Valeria and the children aren't at the house! Carlos found tire tracks leading to the back barn and footprints leading into the pine forest. They fled into the woods!"
Gabriel’s knuckles turned white as he gripped his pistol so hard the steel groaned. His family was hunting in the foggy mountains while he was miles away. The urge to turn around and race back to Tapalpa was overwhelming, screaming through every fiber of his soul.
"Did Carlos capture any of the attackers?" Gabriel demanded, his voice dangerously low.
"Yes. One survived. Carlos is interrogating him right now," Victoria replied. "Gabriel... the attacker isn't from the Cofradía."
Gabriel froze. "What?"
"He’s a mercenary hired through an agency based in Mexico City. He said they weren't ordered by Hector Vargas. They were hired by someone who knew your exact routine... someone inside our trusted circle."
A wave of icy fury washed over Gabriel. A betrayal. Just like two years ago. Someone who knew about their life in Tapalpa, someone who knew about Mateo’s birthday party, had sold them out.
"Who?" Gabriel spat out the word like venom.
"We don't know yet," Victoria whispered. "Gabriel, you need to find out who is pulling the strings from that compound. Vargas is the only link."
"Keep Carlos searching the woods for Valeria," Gabriel ordered, his tone cold and lethal. "Tell him if a single hair on my family's head is harmed, there won't be a corner of this earth where anyone involved can hide."
He cut the comms link.
Gabriel took a deep, steadying breath, suppressing the terror for his wife and children, converting it into raw, laser-focused lethality. He vaulted over the eight-foot concrete wall, dropping silently into the compound's courtyard like a shadow.
He neutralized two armed guards near the side entrance using silent hand-to-hand takedowns, slipping through the heavy steel security doors before the alarms could sound.
Navigating the sterile, fluorescent-lit corridors of the facility, Gabriel moved with terrifying efficiency. He reached the basement level—a high-security medical wing monitored by heavy iron doors and surveillance cameras.
He shot out the main camera with his silenced pistol, stepped up to the central medical cell, and kicked the heavy door off its magnetic latch.
Inside the sterile room, hooked up to IV drips and monitoring equipment, sat Hector Vargas.
The once-powerful syndicate boss was now a frail shadow of his former self, his skin pale and yellowed, his right arm paralyzed from an old gunshot wound. But as Gabriel stepped into the room, raising his gun directly at Vargas's forehead, the old man’s sunken eyes widened with immediate recognition—and a sinister, mocking smile spread across his cracked lips.
"Gabriel..." Vargas wheezed, coughing weakly. "I knew... I knew you would come for me."
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow your brains across this wall right now," Gabriel said, his finger resting heavily on the trigger.
Vargas chuckled, a raspy, dry sound. "Because... if you kill me, you’ll never find out who sold your wife and children to the syndicate. It wasn't me, Gabriel. I'm just the bait."
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Gabriel stepped forward, jamming the hot barrel of his gun directly under Vargas's chin, forcing the old man’s head back against the pillow. "Speak. Now."
"The letter... sent to your ranch..." Vargas gasped, struggling for air. "Julian didn't work for me. He works for the woman who built your 'safe haven' in Tapalpa. He works for Victoria Sandoval."
