The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set by Ernest Dempsey (non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

the cartel leader's personal NORAD. Surrounded by four feet of poured, reinforced concrete, it could withstand almost any type of attack. While Mendoza's preparations would keep him and his most trusted men safe from rival cartels, the situation room wasn't only built as a safe harbor from other cartels.

He'd seen what the United States government could do when they really wanted to eliminate a target. They could do it covertly with a small team of operatives, and while that posed a threat, his greater fear was of an aerial assault. The United States military had, at their disposal, an arsenal of silent bombs that could hit with laser precision if given the order.

He recalled seeing such weaponry blasted over the media in the 1990s when President Bush sent his troops into Kuwait, then again after the events of 9/11. The American military capabilities were put on full display for everyone to see. Mendoza wasn't foolish enough to believe they would only launch such attacks at foreign militaries.

In the late 1990s, a mysterious explosion killed a cartel boss in Colombia, along with his entire entourage and security detail. Their compound was reduced to a rubble-filled crater. Precariously, a similar fate met the cartel's main cocaine processing plant.

The American media didn’t mention it, and the Mexican outlets barely caught wind of the story.

Every cartel boss from Juarez to Montevideo in Uruguay spent several months on edge, wondering if they would be the next target.

Further attacks never came, and many of the leaders fell into their usual routines, once more getting comfortable in their day-to-day operations.

When Mendoza took over Dorado Aguilas, his first order of business was to build this place, along with a half-mile-long subterranean escape tunnel that exited in the jungle. He kept a getaway vehicle there, always fueled and ready in a makeshift garage constructed out of an old barn.

A projection screen at the back end of the room displayed a map of the region, with Uruapan highlighted. Two other areas were highlighted in a different color, with a light green, semi-transparent hue.

"We are still on schedule, sir," Luis said. "We currently have operatives along both shorelines evaluating the best locations."

Mendoza grunted, but it wasn't entirely of approval.

Luis noted the irritation and continued. "We've selected two potential warehouses along the gulf and three on the Pacific side. All of them are owned by struggling shipping business, which gives us strong leverage."

"Leverage?" Mendoza asked.

As prepared as he was, and as savvy as the man's business sense proved time and time again, he sometimes baffled Luis with his nativity.

"Yes, sir. Now that we have a good choice of locations and the shipping lanes are nearly open, we can begin with the next phase of operations."

Mendoza's lower lip lifted slightly, as if impressed, but Luis knew that wasn't what the man felt. He was impatient, always wanting results yesterday. Luis understood. The life of a cartel boss didn't exactly have a long expectancy unless, of course, they could make enough money to eventually drop off the radar. Luis could count on one hand how many had been able to pull off that trick, and he'd still have a finger or two left.

The leader took a deep, dramatic breath through his nostrils and rubbed his nose. The gesture put Luis on edge. Even as good as he was, there was no way he could take out the other four men in the room, along with Mendoza, if the man ordered his execution.

Luis had a plan in mind for such an event, as that sort of thing was common in the sinister world of drug lords and minions. He'd draw his weapon and shoot Mendoza, knowing that while the other men in the room cut him down, at least he took out the leader.

It was a zero-sum game that Luis knew Mendoza didn't want to play, and one the boss knew his security general wasn't afraid of using.

"Our enemies plot against us," Mendoza said with another flair of the dramatic. "With every passing second, they grow, their operations expand. We should be outrunning them, overrunning them, and yet you speak of preparations and phases as if we're some kind of corporation looking at businesses to buy."

Luis suppressed his anger and offered a smirk. "Absolutely."

Mendoza's eyebrows dropped, in both confusion and disbelief. "We're wasting time," his voice thundered. He slapped his hand on the long, glossy wooden table to emphasize the point.

One of the guards to the man's right startled.

Luis never flinched.

"We are being strategic, sir. It's important that we select the best locations for your venture. We can't exactly walk in, call the lawyers of a shipping company, and make them an offer."

Mendoza stewed, so Luis kept going. "You're a smart businessman, Gio. You are on the cusp of doing something than no cartel leader has ever done before. Something that big takes time."

"We're out of time," Mendoza spat. "You," he pointed a thick finger at Luis, "are out of time. You are my general. This expansion idea will crush the Guerreros and make us the biggest player in all of Mexico. Pick a company on both sides, and send them a message."

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the anger that overshadowed him seeming to slide off like a sheet of melting ice.

"You…want me to pick the locations?" Luis allowed the man to see and hear his confusion.

"Of course," Mendoza said, unfolding his arms to flash his hands in front of him. "You're my right hand, Luis. Or did you forget?"

Luis shook his head. "No, sir. I didn't."

"Good, then. Make the decision and move forward with the plan. I expect to have two properties on the coast in the next seventy-two hours."

Seventy-two hours? The man wanted the impossible, or, at the very least, the improbable.

Luis knew which two properties were probably the best suited for their needs, but they were both owned by long-time family businesses. It would take something drastic to get them to sell. He couldn't simply take the properties by force, though he