Without thinking, the men quickly gave chase.
Payne eyed their approach through the front sight of his assault rifle. Elevated above the Great Ball Court, he was protected by one of the stone pillars that held up the temple’s façade. His weapon had a standard effective range — the range to consistently hit and severely wound a human torso — of over 1,600 feet. That was approximately three times the width of the playing field. From the moment they stepped onto the grass, Angel’s men were in play. And yet he patiently waited until they had closed the distance to 200 feet. More than halfway there — so they wouldn’t turn back — yet far enough from him to pose little threat.
In his mind, it was the perfect kill zone.
Stuck between two walls with nowhere to hide.
Payne opened fire on the approaching horde and cut them down with ease. Head shots. Heart shots. Leg shots. Whatever. They tried to fight back by firing wildly towards the temple. Bullets hit the pillars, the steps and the front wall, but Payne was too well protected to even flinch. A few men in the rear tried to run back towards the southern end of the stadium, but Jones was waiting for them. He picked them off one by one, until the only person upright on the field was a man who’d died while trying to climb the western wall. His body leaned against the slanted base of the wall in the area that had been designated as a team bench.
It almost looked like he was trying to check into the game.
But it was too late. The game was nearly over.
While Angel and his bodyguards were focused on the west, Tiffany scurried around the base of the pyramid and came up behind them. One shot, then a second. Both from close range. The bodyguards died without raising their guns. Angel whirled and tried to get off a shot at Tiffany, but she was too quick. She fired a bullet through his ‘good’ shoulder. He dropped his weapon and screamed in pain, no longer able to use either arm.
‘Quit your crying!’ she taunted. ‘Now you have a matching set.’
‘Fuck you!’ he yelled in Spanish.
She pushed him to the ground and stepped on his wound. ‘No, fuck you.’
He shrieked in agony, unable to speak. In her mind, it was a well-deserved punishment for the slaying of her teammates in Mexico City. She refused to ease up on him until she saw Payne and Jones in the distance. They had spotted her and were coming her way. There were things she needed to learn before they intervened.
She knelt next to Angel. ‘How did you find me?’
‘Fuck you!’ he screamed.
She grabbed his freshly wounded arm and twisted it behind his back. With the bullet still lodged in his shoulder, the pain was beyond excruciating. ‘How’d you find me?’
He howled in pain. ‘Your picture.’
‘What picture?’ she demanded.
‘Someone sent me your picture. They told me where to find you.’
‘Bullshit!’ She twisted her weapon deeper.
He screamed again. Blood poured from the wound.
‘Prove it,’ she growled.
He was getting desperate. ‘The picture … it’s on my phone. See for yourself.’
She dug through his pockets. Sure enough, Angel wasn’t lying. There were several close-ups of her on his phone. They were taken at the campground of Old Chichén. Sent to him via email. As she had suspected, someone at the site had tipped him off. She had a pretty good idea who it was. She would deal with him when the time was right.
For now, she had to deal with Angel.
She knew she wouldn’t be safe until he was dead.
She pulled her trigger and ended the threat.
64
For the past several minutes, Payne and Jones had been on the same side of this war as Tiffany. Now that Angel was dead, she went back to being their adversary. They approached her cautiously, fully aware of her skills. Payne closed in from the northwest, the assault rifle aimed at her chest. Meanwhile, Jones looped further south before converging on her location. She was standing next to the pyramid, three corpses at her feet. One was Angel. The other two were his bodyguards. The tattooed men had looked tough, but Tiffany had killed them with ease.
Payne kept that in mind as he moved in. ‘Drop the weapon!’
She scoffed at his request. ‘You’ve got to be shitting me.’
‘Drop the weapon,’ Jones echoed.
‘Seriously? You still don’t trust me?’
Payne moved closer. ‘Can’t afford to. We saw you in action.’
She smiled at the compliment. ‘What can I say? This isn’t my first rodeo.’
Jones took aim. ‘It will be your last rodeo — unless you drop your weapon.’
‘Wow! You guys are so serious. I thought you’d be more fun.’ She tossed her weapon to the ground and calmly raised her hands. ‘I’d heard that you were fun.’
‘From who?’
‘I told you, Jon. I’m not at liberty to say.’
The comment pissed Payne off. He charged forward and frisked her. Then he pushed her roughly onto the pyramid steps. Still keyed up from the battle, he was sick of her games.
‘I’m about to get a lot less fun,’ he assured her.
‘Damn! What’s your problem?’
‘My problem?’ Payne yelled. ‘Several tourists are dead because of you. Several more are injured because of you. And now you’re going to force me to kick the shit out of you to get some answers. Unless, of course, you want me to skip the beating and go right to torture.’
She laughed it off. ‘You won’t torture me.’
‘Really? I saw what you did to Angel. Did it work?’
Jones chimed in. ‘Do the Stick Trick. That always works.’
She glanced at Jones. ‘The what?’
Payne smiled. It was a tactic from the Vietnam War that involved a bullet hole and a very sharp stick. ‘Can’t. She doesn’t have an open wound.’
Jones grinned. ‘No problem. I’ll give her one.’
Before Payne could respond, Jones fired a single round into the pyramid. The bullet hit the steps a few feet above Tiffany’s head. The shot was so close that she felt the sting of debris on the back of her neck. She jumped in alarm, stunned that he’d actually fired his gun.
‘What the fuck? I’m not the enemy!’ she screamed.
‘How do we know? You won’t tell us who you work for.’
‘You know who I work for. Hamilton told you who I work for.’
‘Tell us yourself. Or I’ll fire again.’
‘Fine! I work for the CIA, just like Hamilton said.’ She checked the back of her neck for blood. ‘Are you happy now? Or do you need me to spell it for you?’
Jones growled. ‘Wait! What are you suggesting? That black people can’t spell CIA? You racist, redheaded spook. I ought to kill you just for that.’
Payne nodded in agreement. ‘She deserves it.’
Jones fired again. This time even closer.
‘Stop doing that!’ she screamed.
Jones shook his head. ‘Not until you tell us.’
‘Tell you what?’
Payne answered. ‘Who is running your op?’
She took a deep breath and nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to tell them a little more, especially this late in the game. ‘I don’t know his name. I swear to God I don’t. But his codename is Explorer. He says he knows you from back in the day.’
‘From where?’ Payne demanded.
‘How the fuck should I know? Your records are sealed, and he wouldn’t tell me.’
Payne shook his head. ‘Not good enough.’