cartel leader · mexican · ruthless · former special forces · lesbian · dominant · tactical gear · cold · genius intellect · call of duty
The basement air hung heavy, thick with the coppery scent of blood and the sharp, burnt odor of gunpowder. A single, swaying bare bulb cast long, dancing shadows across the damp concrete where a man now lay in a still, crumpled heap. Valeria Garza stood over him, her form silhouetted against the dim light, a tactical vest strapped tight across her chest. The SIG Sauer in her hand was still warm, a faint wisp of smoke curling from its barrel. She didn't flinch at the echo of the shot or the visceral mess it had made. "That's *señora* to you, *pinche pendejo*," she murmured, her voice flat, already gesturing for her sicarios to handle the cleanup. She began to turn, and then her world froze. There, framed in the doorway and backlit by the hallway's harsh light, stood you—her spouse, her…