Free Web NovelI scanned the array of monitors in front of me.
Live feeds from the mercenaries’ body cams were streaming in real time from Nuevo Laredo.
“Still no trace of Heriberto Lazcano’s hideout?”
“Yes. None so far.”
Even with signal interception and satellite surveillance, we hadn’t found a single clue.
Still, while gathering intelligence, we had identified several hideouts where Los Zetas members were concentrated.
The reason we entered Nuevo Laredo today was simple—systematic elimination of their personnel.
“Not easy... Where the hell is he hiding?”
It was almost impressive how thoroughly he had vanished.
He had to be somewhere near Nuevo Laredo, yet not even a trace surfaced.
Meanwhile, scattered clashes between Sinaloa Cartel and Los Zetas continued throughout the city.
But neither El Chapo nor Lazcano showed themselves.
Then movement appeared on one of the monitors.
I cut off my conversation with Manager Ma and focused.
A helicopter-fired anti-tank missile struck a cartel hideout.
Even through the screen, the intensity felt real.
“Prepare for engagement!”
At Castro’s command, the battle began.
Los Zetas members quickly reorganized and resisted, but they were no match for mercenaries who had already secured advantageous positions, with sniper and assault teams prepared.
On top of that, two helicopters provided aerial fire support.
Then—
something launched from the hideout toward the helicopters.
Castro’s helmet cam snapped in that direction.
Fortunately, the projectile missed.
“...Feels like I’m watching the Middle East, not Mexico.”
A dry laugh escaped me.
The fact that a cartel possessed an RPG-7—nicknamed “Aladdin’s magic wand”—was absurd.
But then again, they had armored vehicles too.
“Helicopters, pull back!”
With RPG-7s confirmed, the airspace was no longer safe.
One stray rocket could cause catastrophic damage.
Castro immediately ordered withdrawal of aerial support and continued with ground combat.
After about thirty minutes—
the mercenaries secured victory.
“Castro cleaned that up nicely.”
Just then, the satellite phone rang.
Manager Ma answered and handed it to me.
“Boss, it’s Castro.”
I smirked slightly and took the receiver.
“Good work, Captain.”
—Not at all.
“Our casualties?”
—Some gunshot wounds. We administered first aid and evacuated them. No fatalities.
“That’s good to hear.”
—We have survivors. What should we do?
Survivors...
I paused briefly, then asked:
“Are they conscious?”
—Some are unconscious. Others are still responsive. Around ten in total.
“Then eliminate the unconscious. Interrogate the conscious ones about Lazcano’s location. Spare those who answer. The rest—same outcome.”
—Understood!
“Keep pushing.”
I ended the call.
On the monitor, Castro moved toward the survivors.
He split them into groups and began questioning.
Those who couldn’t answer fell one by one to gunfire.
But in the end—
no one knew Lazcano’s location.
And just like that, the full-scale war between the cartels and Black Bear truly began.
* * *
Days passed.
Our side began taking losses too.
Fortunately, no deaths—but several were wounded badly enough to be pulled from operations.
With support from headquarters, Castro evacuated them to hospitals in Texas.
“Where is that rat hiding...”
I muttered while staring at a map of Tamaulipas spread across the table.
We had wiped out every known Los Zetas hideout in Nuevo Laredo.
There might still be unknown ones, but combat inside the city had effectively ceased.
Mercenaries had crushed even the retreating Sinaloa forces.
Yet still—
no trace of El Chapo or Lazcano.
Then Ramos, standing beside me, spoke:
“Charlie. How about contacting the Gulf Cartel?”
“The Gulf Cartel?”
“Yes. If anyone knows, it’s them.”
They had never contacted us before.
“Would they even talk to us?”
“They fear Los Zetas. If we reach out, they’ll agree to meet immediately.”
Ramos sounded certain.
He had already made up his mind—to leave {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the Drug Enforcement Administration after this and stay in Mexico as my representative.
“Alright. You make the contact. Bring them here.”
“Yes, sir.”
I decided to test him.
After he left, I asked Manager Ma:
“No word from Genaro García Luna?”
“None.”
“Still hesitating, huh...”
Whether he was foolish or just stubborn—
either way, expendable.
“Contact Rupert Murdoch. Have them run a piece—no names.”
“Yes, boss.”
“If that doesn’t move him, we go public with everything.”
“Understood.”
Without Manager Ma, this whole operation would’ve been suffocating.
As he left to make the call, I turned back to the map.
* * *
Inside the Sinaloa Cartel, it was like a funeral.
They had superior numbers compared to Los Zetas, yet still suffered heavy losses.
But worse—
their retreating forces had been completely wiped out.
“What the hell is going on?!”
El Chapo hurled his glass.
Shatter!
“Not a single survivor,” a subordinate said.
“We deployed hundreds... and not one made it back?”
“....”
“Chapo.” frёeweɓηovel.coɱ
A man beside him spoke.
“It’s already failed. This operation itself was a mistake.”
“Ismael Zambada García!”
“I told you we should’ve dealt with the Juárez Cartel first, not Los Zetas!”
“El Mayo!”
Another man spoke calmly:
“Let’s focus on what’s next. Los Zetas are finished. But we can still recover.”
It was Juan José Esparragoza Moreno.
The Sinaloa Cartel was run jointly by these three.
“We should recruit ex-military personnel,” El Azul suggested.
El Mayo nodded.
“He’s right. We need our own version of Los Zetas.”
Chapo fell silent.
“Chapo. We have more money than the Gulf Cartel. We can build something even bigger.”
“...Fine. José, handle it.”
“Leave it to me.”
They moved quickly into planning.
Compensation for dead members’ families.
Reorganization.
Then—
Chapo looked out the window.
“I’m going to take revenge.”
“Don’t tell me—you’re going after Black Bear?”
“Not just them. Even the president. Anyone who touches me will learn what happens.”
“Chapo!”
“Stop!”
They tried to stop him—
but failed.
“Handle your tasks. I’ll take care of this.”
Silence fell.
After they left, Chapo called a subordinate.
“Contact Luna. Find out who planned this operation—and where they are.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Bribe them or threaten them. I don’t care. Just find out.”
The subordinate left.
Alone—
Chapo closed his eyes, breathing heavily in rage.
Weeks later—
Nuevo Laredo had changed.
The cartel war had disappeared.
A new police chief restored order.
But it wasn’t over.
Not until Lazcano was dead.
“Welcome. Sorry for making you come all this way.”
“Haha, not at all.”
Two men from the Gulf Cartel had arrived.
“The one in need should be the one to come, after all.”
Fair point.
“You’ve requested meetings before.”
“Apologies. Internal matters delayed our response.”
So they had resolved their internal struggle.
“Then... is everything settled internally?”
The new boss, Antonio Cárdenas Guillén, smiled.
“Yes. The two of us now lead the cartel.”
“Jorge Eduardo Costilla Sánchez, correct?”
“Pleasure to meet you.”
After introductions—
I got straight to business.
“I hear Los Zetas no longer obey the Gulf Cartel. I’ll eliminate them. After that, you join the new order I establish. Do that, and your cartel survives.”
I had already learned one thing—
talk meant nothing to cartels.
Only overwhelming force did.
Violence, not negotiation, was the language they understood.
