Cartel Clash. Don Pendleton

are Mexicans who are part of Dembrow’s crew. They have been following me for some days, watching me because they believed I had more information Don left behind. I think they were waiting to see if I went to get it. Tomas has gone back to Mexico, to Rojas’s ranch. Since Don’s death, Rojas is suspicious of everyone. Even Dembrow.”

      Bolan filed that away. It was an interesting development, maybe something he could play on to give himself some leverage.

      “So, do you?” he asked, picking up on Pilar’s earlier remark.

      “What?”

      “You said Dembrow’s men believed you had information Manners left behind.”

      “Sí,” she said.

      Bolan pointed at the bundle on the bed. “In there?”

      “No. That was simply a distraction. I hoped they would snatch it from me and run. Give me time to get away. Foolish, maybe, but it was all I could think of at the time.”

      She unrolled the bundle and showed Bolan the contents, which were personal items from Manners’s room.

      “This is what they should have been looking for,” Pilar said, sliding her hand from a pocket of her jeans and showing a much-used silver flint lighter.

      Bolan took it from her. Turning it over in his hand he slid the outer casing from the lighter. The wad of absorbent material came free when he tugged at it. Bolan pulled it apart and found a thin, tight roll of clear plastic. He unrolled it and extracted a narrow strip of paper. The strip held a single line of neat writing—figures, and a name. The figures looked like a telephone number: a country code, followed by a local code and the number itself. The name on the paper was Calderon.

      “Don told me if anything happened I was to get the lighter and pass it on to his people in El Paso. He had not been able to transmit this last piece of evidence.”

      “No other information?”

      “Nothing. Do you believe it will help?”

      “Maybe.”

      Bolan walked over to the other side of the room and took out his sat phone and hit the speed dial for his connection to Stony Man.

      “I need a rundown on a possible phone number and a name,” he said when Barbara Price, Stony Man’s mission controller, picked up. He read off the number and the name. “Get back to me ASAP.”

      “Will do. How’s it going?”

      “Interesting,” Bolan said. And with that he ended the call.

      Pilar was watching him closely as he put the phone away.

      “I do not suppose it would do me any good to ask who you were talking to?”

      Bolan smiled. “No good at all. But I have an idea. There’s a diner just along the road. How about we go get coffee and something to eat. I haven’t had a thing since breakfast.”

      Pilar, realizing she was not about to gain any further knowledge, nodded. “Just let me use the bathroom,” she said. “I need to freshen up.”

      Finally alone, Bolan checked out the handgun he had acquired. It was a 9 mm SIG-Sauer P-226, holding a 15-round magazine. His own ordnance was still in a carry-all, secured in the motel room’s closet. The P-226 would serve his needs for the present and conserve his own supply of ammunition. He slid out the clip and saw it was full. Replacing it, he worked the first round into the breech and put the pistol behind his belt, under his shirt.

      “Hey, it’s only a diner we’re going to,” Pilar said, exiting the bathroom.

      “Well, going by some diners I’ve visited, a gun might come in handy,” Bolan said lightly.

      He saw her smile, albeit briefly.

      They left the room and walked away from the motel. The diner, on the same side of the wide street, was a few hundred yards away. The place was empty of customers. Bolan chose a booth at the far end of the room that allowed them a clear view of the interior and the door.

      Pilar watched Bolan’s actions, and it occurred to her that he was just like Manners—cautious and taking in everything around him, but maintaining an outward facade of calm. Whomever this man was, he struck her as being professional and capable of handling himself. She recalled the swift, efficient way he had dealt with Dembrow’s men. Watching him now, his easy way with the server, she might have been in the company of a totally different man.

      “Coffee?” he asked, and it took a couple of seconds before she registered.

      Pilar nodded and found herself responding without thinking. “Sí.”

      Bolan had observed the way she had slumped against the seat, shoulders down, and he realized she was reacting to what had happened. The unprovoked attack had left its mark and now she was struggling to come to terms with it. He quietly ordered food for both of them. When they were alone again, he saw Pilar’s slim hands on the table. They were trembling visibly. Bolan reached out and placed his big hands over hers, squeezing gently, holding them until the trembling faded. “It’s been a tough night,” he said softly, his voice gentle. “Come morning, I’ll do my best to get you away from here.”

      Her soft brown eyes sought his. She stared at him and looked hard into the startling blue and she saw that he meant what he had said. “Gracias. What about you? You must understand how terrible these people are,” she said.

      “I know all about Marshal Dembrow and Benito Rojas. It’s why I came here. Believe me, Pilar, their time is coming.”

      “For that alone I thank you.”

      Their coffee arrived, and while they waited for the food to come Bolan picked up their conversation.

      “Let’s talk about Dembrow. What’s the situation here? Does Dembrow have local influence?”

      “That was why Don came. His orders were to get inside Dembrow’s organization and collect as much information as he could. He did. At first his mission appeared to be going well. He was very clever at making friends. While he did that he watched and listened, picking up things here and there. Even Dembrow began to like him. Don understood how men like Dembrow worked. With all the drug money coming in, Dembrow was able to buy protection beyond his own people.”

      “Police? Border Patrol?”

      Pilar nodded. “Don suspected some officials of being on Dembrow’s payroll, those who looked the other way when he ran an operation. It’s why the cartel is able to get their drugs across the border in such quantities.” She brushed stray hair back from her face as she collected her thoughts. “The Rojas Cartel is extremely powerful, but I suppose you know this already. The money they make has given them the ability to become so arrogant they believe they can ignore the law and do what they want. No one dare stand against them. Any who have in the past end up dead in ditches. Or have accidents. Rojas and Dembrow simply give the order, hand over the money and problems disappear. They are above the law.”

      “It looks to me,” Bolan said, “that a change is in order.”

      Food was brought to the table and placed in front of them. Bolan had ordered steaks with all the trimmings for both of them. Being Texas, the portions were huge.

      “Are you hungry?” Bolan asked.

      “Let us hope so,” Pilar said, then surprised Bolan by attacking the meal with enthusiasm.

      “How did it happen between you and Don?”

      “We met because of Tomas. He brought Don home one day. They had become quite close.” Pilar’s cheeks flushed at the memory. “Almost immediately there was a connection. Neither of us expected it, and Don was reluctant to let it happen because of his job. But people sometimes cannot fight these things. I believe Don saw how I hated what Tomas did for Dembrow. After our relationship became more than simple attraction…” She looked Bolan in the eye. “You understand?”