The Accountant

Chapter 24 Mexican Cartel Dominic

Leaving his detka to hunt his remaining enemies was difficult for him. The only solace was the

enhanced Bluetooth device attached to the tracker she provided him. They can communicate with each

other anytime without the risk of the battery running out. Amazing woman.

And he thought this type of high-tech, Science-lab invention was only done in movies.

They just landed in Mexico City and he was about to meet the new Mexican Cartel leader. Rumored to

be almost as dangerous, but like him, a man of his word. Mentally nodding in approval, nevertheless,

he had to remain extra alert. In a few minutes, his assessment of the man would determine if he had

changed much over the years.

Ever cautious, he sent his men ahead to secure the perimeter. Snipers and hardened combatants in

place.

Alec exited the private jet first, black shades covering his eyes from the late morning glare, he scanned

his open surroundings for a few munites. Satisfied, he nodded and stepped aside to let Dominic thru.

Dominic scoffed at his friend's overzealous security protocol. "I am The Butcher, not some bimbo,

Alec." He walked past him.

His general chuckled. "I have to be thorough, my friend. The tzarina will have my head if something

happens to you."

When Alec put it that way, it should irritate him but all he felt was elation. Some fantastic woman,

waiting for him back home was possessively and exuberantly concerned for his safety.

"Let's hope Rafael Montero had forgotten the time I socked his pretty face." Alec murmured, smirking,

remembering their good old days.

Though his face was stoic, unreadable, lips flat, his gray eyes sparkled with amusement. "He would

have improved his fighting skills by now, Alec." Dominic surmised.

He had every faith in his general with his hand to hand combat and yet he knew for sure that Rafael, a

cartel leader, was just as deadly. "Keep our men alert, we don't know if he has changed that much. He

might be working with the traitors for all we know." Though he doubted it.

His general nodded and opened the door on the bulletproof SUV for his tzar, joining him a few seconds

later. If everything went as planned, they will have the assassin's head by nightfall.

***

Unsurprisingly, the additional security sent by Rafael escorted them to the Eastside of Polanco, Mexico

City.

They stopped at a heavily guarded townhouse and again Alec stepped out of the car first to scan their

surroundings, Dominic trusted him and his men to have the area ensured of their safety.

The world he was lording it was a very dangerous place to live. Alliances formed and changed with a

blink of an eye.

By this time, his composure marked him to being the deadliest mafia king. When he stepped out of the

car, dangerous aura proceeded him. Face impassive, posture stiff and authoritarian. The weight of his

knives and Glock concealed at the lining of his coat was familiar.

Thick and heavy anticipation filled the air around them. Devoid of any expression, Dominic watched the

man coming to meet them.

The usual prowling, stalking strides perfected by such predators, and leaders like them apparent. As

impressive as the Mafia tzar, tall and tan, heavily muscled, uncompromising perfectly sculpted body

and face, clothed elegantly in all black Armani, like recognized like. The clear hazel eyes told as much.

Leaders both.

Dominic shook the hands of the man before him. Firm and steady. Good.

"Welcome to my humble abode, tzar," Rafael intoned, he inclined his head to Alec. "And I see you

brought along your ancient wingman." His dark brown eyes gleamed with amusement.

"I'll show you old, Raf," Alec growled mockingly.

Rafael chuckled and clapped Alec's back none too gently. "Come along. It's been too long since we

shared a drink." This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

The modern style townhouse they entered was quite impressive. Their host guided them to his domain.

His second in command, his younger cousin Arturo joined them, inclining his head in respect to

Dominic.

Settling their tall frames on dark, luxurious, leather couches, they remained silent, reserved, and waited

for their expensive drinks served.

Rafael raised his crystal glass in a salute and sip appreciatively.

Dominic murmured his approval. The guy smuggled the best whiskey. As much as he enjoyed good

alcohol, he came here for one thing. He cleared his throat. The cartel leader gave him his attention. "I

want to know where the assassin is." No need to elaborate. They knew why he was here.

The relaxed air about them faded away, replaced again by tension.

"I want him, too," Rafael answered. His gaze just as hard. Uncompromising. Almost challenging.

Everyone was quiet, waiting.

If this had happened before Dominic met Beau, both leaders would already be at each other's throats.

However, the mafia king could feel the restraint for violence holding him back. Fuck! He was getting

soft.

"I will kill him, Rafael. Out of respect for your territory and our friendship, I had to pass by here and tell

you. My surveillance team knows his location, though it's heavily guarded, I can guarantee you, we will

burn that hideout to the ground before sunset." He held up his hand to halt whatever the cartel leader

had to say. Didn't they know he was always two steps ahead? "Now tell me. Why?"

Rafael looked at him seriously. Lips pressed in a thin line. Memories of the past easily reflected on his

darkened gaze. "For revenge, tzar. It was something I promise myself I would do. You can torture him

all you want. What I want is for him to see my face before I cut his throat." Pain. Too much pain easily

read.