"Was it a good idea to reveal to that FBI agent that she’ll be working alongside the DEA to take down the cartels near the border?" William didn’t think this was the best course of action to pursue their plans against their enemies in xico.
"She’s quite curious; all her investigations led to us, and Ángela Valdés is not exactly an exception. I suppose before going ho, I should focus on Ghost, see if he’s willing to stay in the business, and whether there’s a chance to bring Tommy in."
"That man is unstable..."
"He’s limited." Dante gave William a cold look and said, "We urgently need replacents who can serve as distractions for the feds. In Europe, we have Eddie; I want Tommy to take the place of many enemies we will eliminate when we return to the United States."
Things were unstable. Now, the feds were keeping Sons of Anarchy under surveillance—better known as SAMCRO. They weren’t hard to find; many knew what they were involved in, but not everyone was willing to abandon their illegal activities.
However, Dante didn’t need to worry too much about the recent investigations into his legal businesses tied to SAMCRO.
His security company was legitimate, his pub chain was as well, and many other companies were responsible for laundering his money.
In a short ti, he had established effective and mostly undetectable money laundering thods.
"Then Tommy should be near the border."
"I don’t know if he’s suited for this kind of environnt. I’ll find a place where he can take on this role." While holding his modified HK416 assault rifle, designed for better combat efficiency, Dante refilled the magazines on the table.
"They’ll attack us the mont we show our heads."
"Do we have the special forces contracted for the next few days?"
"They’re already in position, though we don’t know if we can trust them."
Dante understood that hiring ex-soldiers from other countries and trying to integrate them into SAMCRO was highly complex. Deep down, he knew that offering large sums of money wasn’t enough. Even so, there was always the risk of betrayal.
If it weren’t for the fact that everyone in his organization was willing to follow him to hell itself, Dante wouldn’t believe it possible to fight the xican cartels directly.
"We have to lure the rats to the cheese—where we’ll kill them all." Dante wasn’t going to play the DEA’s ga of tracking down the leader of the Sonora Cartel.
Now that he had stirred the hornet’s nest, he had to clean up the ss to clear the way.
The deal was to deliver the heads of the main leaders allied with the Jiménez Cartel, including those of certain brothers. In exchange, they would give him the green light to take full control of the organization—under the sole condition that he wouldn’t use it to transport troops.
Whether people accepted it or not, the arms business was far more lucrative in Arica than in Europe. That made SAMCRO increasingly powerful, and now, with these new channels, Dante was sure he would gain even more power.
All Dante wanted was to live a normal life.
He had never been the greedy or cruel type; he was simply desperate.
In both of his lives, he had been dragged into the criminal world—first to protect himself and now to protect his family.
Even so, that didn’t stop him from doing the best he could. After all, his own life and his family’s were at stake.
After loading his magazines, Dante leaned against a wall, hiding from possible snipers in the distance. His eyes were half-closed as he breathed calmly and waited.
"Alright, tonight we strike." Dante had remained inactive for two days while the DEA tracked their target, who was set to be extradited to the United States. The plan was to eliminate a group of sicarios who had gathered under the orders of the Jiménez Cartel.
"Are you really not going to take my advice and stay out of this?"
"No. I need to show initiative."
Unknown Location.
Dante sat on the second floor of an abandoned building near the territory of the Los Reyes cartel. These were, in short, the most loyal vassals of the Jiménez, who had been a major headache for SAMCRO.
If circumstances had allowed it, Dante wouldn’t have intervened directly in another attack.
However, he couldn’t afford such a luxury.
The crucial mont was approaching. With the fall of the Sonora Cartel, a massive power vacuum would be left behind—one he wouldn’t let Felipe Lobos fill.
Dante wasn’t about to give more power to the man who planned to strip him of his own.
That was why he would create chaos—force them into hiding—and when the ti was right, he would hold an official eting where he would have SAMCRO seize the power that the Jiménez alliance held.
"Taking the initiative..." Dante murmured as he watched the night slowly descend.
The moon rose steadily, hanging in the dark blue sky. It was a sharp crescent moon, bringing a sense of peace to the cri-ridden city of Juárez.
But at that mont, the tranquility was broken by the sound of trucks and incoherent shouting.
A group of ard n appeared in the distance, catching Dante’s attention.
Under the dim moonlight, he saw the sicarios who had previously gone out.
The running hitn didn’t notice Dante, who remained hidden in the shadows.
Their anxiety made them less observant.
The sicarios were only focused on finding those responsible for the recent massacres and giving the leader of the Reyes Cartel, Andrés Reyes, a satisfactory answer regarding the attacks that had severely impacted the Jiménez.
His second-in-command, Víctor, was dead—along with his entire squad of sicarios. Not a single one had survived.
The news had shocked the Reyes Cartel to its core.
After all, Víctor had been considered one of the strongest n among the sicarios. Whether in marksmanship or hand-to-hand combat, he had always been the best of his peers. Having completed nurous impossible missions, many in the organization had co to believe that Víctor—the cartel’s second-in-command—was invincible.
Most of the Reyes Cartel sicarios truly believed it.
But the Víctor they had idolized was now dead.
Killed by an enemy they knew nothing about.
When the sicarios realized this, they were stunned. They couldn’t accept it.
They needed an explanation, and the only one who could provide it was Andrés, who had direct contact with the Jiménez Cartel.
And after many days of investigation, it seed the Reyes Cartel had finally found an answer. That was why they were gathering.
Dante, still in the shadows, watched as the sicarios assembled and slowly stood up.
This was exactly what he had been waiting for.
...
"DAMN IT!"
Upon hearing his subordinates’ report, Andrés Reyes shot up from his chair at lightning speed—so fast, in fact, that the chair toppled over with a loud crash.
However, none of those present seed to care about the chair. Everyone was staring at Andrés in horror.
The Jiménez Cartel needed an explanation—no, the entire association required an explanation. Why were Víctor and his elite squad of hitn suddenly being wiped out overnight?
Even his assistant, who was usually terrified of Andrés, did not look away.
"I know you all have a lot of questions. Everything will be clear soon. Gather all troops on alert! They have a right to know the truth as well!" Andrés commanded in a deep voice, locking eyes with everyone in the room.
"Yes, sir!"
The assistant and the reconnaissance hitn nodded and left the room.
Andrés was left alone, his face eerily calm.
Before his reconnaissance hitn returned with the reports after Víctor had called for reinforcents, he still held onto a sliver of hope.
But when the reports arrived, his last hope was shattered.
His right-hand man was dead, along with the hitn who had followed him.
All because of SAMCRO and a fight that the Jiménez Cartel had started!
When he first heard the news, Andrés didn’t know much about SAMCRO. But soon, he realized they were affiliated with Felipe Lobos’ Cartel.
Yet, it was too unreal for Lobos’ Cartel to launch an attack—he had never acted this way before.
It was well known that the Jiménez Cartel was far stronger than Felipe Lobos, but now, taking the initiative to start a war on their own had thrown everything into confusion.
That was why so doubted the information—not everyone was buying the Jiménez Cartel’s story, and so even considered maintaining their distance, thinking of their own interests rather than standing by their so-called allies.
But for the Reyes, this all made perfect sense.
Aside from Felipe Lobos, no one else would have dared to defy them.
After all, infiltration and assassination were not the strongest suits of Felipe’s n. That was why others hesitated, but Andrés was determined to follow the Jiménez Cartel’s plans.
"I will kill the traitors, whether they are foreign enemies or not," Andrés Reyes muttered in a rage.
Then, he opened a drawer and pulled out a pistol.
He held the weapon in his palm, feeling the rough texture of its grip.
That fiery determination returned to him as he turned and looked out the window. His hitn had already gathered around him.
As furious as Andrés was, he wasn’t going to charge straight at Felipe Lobos and those he considered traitors alone.
That would be suicide.
Fortunately, he had dozens of hitn under his command. He was equipped with the most advanced weaponry and the strongest fighters on the xican border.
He was the Jiménez Cartel’s trump card, and now was the ti to play it.
When Andrés stepped out of his office, he straightened his posture and quickened his pace. The friction between his boots and the floor created a loud, sharp sound.
It was like a hamr striking a nail.
Anyone who saw him would be fooled by his firm stance and disciplined deanor, respecting him as the true soldier he was.
Beyond his fiery attitude and imposing presence, wasn’t he everything a hitman aspired to be?
A few flaws could be forgiven.
Andrés knew what his hitn needed in a leader, and he had beco exactly that.
As he looked at the rows upon rows of hitn, all staring at him with respect, he felt satisfied.
He stepped onto the stage, took a deep breath, and spoke into the loudspeaker in his deep voice: "My soldiers, we have been brutally attacked!"
Andrés got straight to the point, revealing the shocking truth.
The hitn were stunned to hear such words from Andrés himself, but out of respect for his prestigious position, they remained silent.
Andrés continued, "It was Felipe Lobos’ cartel and their allies! They have made a deal with outside forces, leading to the death of our brothers. Furthermore, there may be traitors within our alliances with other cartels, and I will not tolerate it."
"Rember, they started this war, and now we will finish it!" Andrés shouted, his tone growing stronger.
Then, his expression suddenly darkened.
"I know... things like this happen. It may be hard to believe, but this is the harsh truth. Many of our n were killed worse than dogs. No one deserves to die in such a disgraceful way. An ambush like that was not fair to him! It is an insult that a hitman must carry to the grave!"
Andrés looked more sorrowful than ever. Even his eyes were teary.
The hitn closest to him could see the glistening tears in his eyes.
Not wanting his n to see him in such a state, he turned away and signaled to the reconnaissance hitn standing nearby.
The leader of the reconnaissance team stepped up to the loudspeaker as the troops watched their enraged commander.
"Yes, I can confirm that Víctor was ambushed and killed by the enemy. He was shot in the back, and his entire squad was wiped out by a sniper," the leader reported.
In an instant, the troops erupted.
They looked at each other in disbelief as rage spread through the crowd.
Andrés captured the mont in his mind.
When the hitn were at the peak of their agitation, he turned back around.
"My soldiers, we have been attacked! Next, it could be , then you! Or you first, then ! Because only when we, the first line of defense for our allies, are eliminated, will Felipe Lobos be able to strike the others more easily!"
"I will not allow this, not in my city. Who’s with ?"
"ALL OF US!"
...
The hitn were consud by rage after hearing Andrés’ speech, ready to fight a war in which they would likely die.
Only the assistant standing beside Andrés looked shocked and unsettled.
As Andrés’ field assistant, he knew more than the others.
Things had not happened exactly as his superior had described.
For example, it was not ntioned that the Jiménez Cartel had started this war.
But before the assistant could ask any questions or make a move, a gun was suddenly aid at his head.
It was Andrés, who now looked paranoid.
Bang!
He fired without hesitation.
The assistant died with his eyes wide open, but Andrés showed no pity or remorse.
The assistant had known too much.
"Death to traitors..." Once again, Andrés put on a grand performance.
The hitn looked stunned, but soon their shock turned into even greater fury.
They glared at the assistant’s corpse in disgust.
"You are hitn! It is ti to make the enemy pay! Justice will be served!"
"Justice!"
"Justice!"
The crowd’s shouts shattered the silence of the night.
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