Page 15 of Four Cards Exposed

James had seen Guerrero’s picture when he was preparing to infiltrate Moore’s group. He’d known Guerrero would be getting out of prison around now, and that the Mendoza Cartel, who was much more powerful now than they had been when Guerrero had gone to prison, would likely want to thank him for his service and his silence.

And now he’s here.

Finally.

It’s all coming together.

Mendoza took a step forward. “Sean, this is Daniel Guerrero, the man I told you about. He’s my and my brother’s trusted friend.”

“Your trusted friend is my trusted friend, Miguel,” Moore said smarmily.

Moore and Guerrero shook hands, then Moore introduced James.

“This is Jay, one of our top fighters.”

James could see Guerrero sizing him up. He watched, curious to see what the outcome of his perusal would be. At six two and two hundred and ten pounds, James was no lightweight, but he wasn’t as large as some of the men he’d fought against in the last months, and he certainly wasn’t as large as Guerrero.

Finally, Guerrero nodded, his eyes shining with respect. “Miguel has told me about you. I hope we’ll have a chance to meet in the ring sometime.”

James nodded his head vigorously, but inside he hoped he’d be long gone by the time such a fight was arranged. Only a fool would be eager to fight Guerrero.

“What am I doing here, Sean?” Jay asked in a bored tone. “You expect me to fight here, in the middle of a casino?”

Moore laughed, a loud, booming sound that made his wide belly shake. “I’ll have you killed if you try to fight anyone here. You have no idea how much money I’ve spent on the renovation. No, come with me. The downstairs lounge is where the fighting will take place.”

Together, the group made their way to what Moore referred to as the lounge. Compared to the atrium, it was a cold, dark space. A raised stage on one corner, originally designed for live entertainment, had been turned into a large, currently unmanned, bar area, but the centerpiece of the room was the painted circle in the middle. It was surrounded on all four sides by rows of raised seats, with narrow corridors in between each seating area. James did a quick estimate in his head—this space alone could seat up to one hundred people.

“This is it,” Moore said grandly. “First you fight. Then you will mingle with the guests. You can drink, of course, and gamble. As long as you win.”

There was almost no distance between the fighters and the first row. People sitting in that row would likely get splattered with blood.

As if he could read James’s mind, Moore laughed. “The men and women who come tonight—and there will be plenty of women, believe me, son—have paid a pretty penny to watch you fight. They’ll want to get as close as possible to the blood, if you see what I mean.

James blinked twice. He needed to hide his thoughts better.

“Close, but not too close, right?” he said, cracking his knuckles.

“You’ve got it.”

“It looks good,” James said. “But won’t the cops stop us? I don’t want any trouble,” he added quickly.

He saw Guerrero nodding along with him.

He doesn’t want to go back inside.

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Moore said grandly. “Nobody will bother us. The local police know me, and know better than to come here.”

Good to know.

“Plus, we’ll be in international waters. Everything we’re doing is completely legal.”

Yeah, right.

“All you have to worry about, Jay, is winning. I have a lot of money riding on you, son. Make me proud, and soon your debts will be repaid and you’ll have more money than you can spend.”

James let greed show in his eyes. It was part of his cover story, that he needed the money badly—that he would do anything for money. “I won’t lose, Mr. Moore. I’m going to make the most of this chance you're giving me,” he added respectfully.

“Good. Good. That’s what I want to hear. You keep doing what I say, and soon—“