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Come out right now and I let you speak with your family. The assassin was known to have a doctor on hand to continuously revive the victim and prolong the torment for hours, sometimes days. Fingers, eyes, tongues, all severed and stuck inside the victim’s mouth, while the body floated in a vat of boiling water. Hernandez had seen the remains of the bodies Garza had left behind. Including undercover FBI agents posing as drug dealers. He was an infamous assassin with a legendary reputation for torturing anyone who crossed him. The voice taunting Hernandez belonged to Antonio Garza, known as El Carnicero throughout the world of Mexican cartels. The desert heat was so viciously oppressive, his sweat-soaked shirt stuck to his chest.
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His left eye had an uncontrollable twitch. He stared at Braden’s corpse lying there in such an unnatural position, his eyes wide in horrified shock. Hernandez judged about thirty men surrounded him with AK-47s, while Hernandez had an FBI issue 9mm pistol with just one solitary bullet left. Unfortunately for you, we are out of chicken soup.”Ī roomful of laughter echoed throughout the empty chamber of aluminum roofing and corrugated steel walls. We have chicken soup and we have screw-you soup. Hernandez,” the man’s voice called out from behind him in a Mexican accent, “we have two kinds of soup today. His partner was sprawled on the floor ten feet away, his body riddled with bullet holes from the ambush. Hernandez was tucked behind a steel column in an abandoned airport hanger just inside the Mexican border. When the blood stopped oozing from James Braden’s head, FBI Agent Ricky Hernandez knew his partner was finally dead.