MARTIN WEST'S SAFE HOUSE.
Martin was holed up in one of his safe houses when he heard a noise outside in the compound. His body went rigid, every nerve on edge. He called out instinctively, “What was that?”
No answer. Just the faint sound of boots crunching gravel.
Without wasting a second, he grabbed his gun from the coffee table, just in case. His men were supposed to be on watch. Someone should’ve called in by now. The silence was too loud. He moved to the window, lifting the curtain just enough to peek.
His heart dropped.
The compound was swarming with uniformed soldiers.
Panic surged through him. “How the hell did they find me?” he muttered, eyes darting across the scene.
He didn’t need a closer look to recognize the insignia on their arms...Miguel’s men.
Still, he told himsel
