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Carlos Cruz was nearly howling with rage when they passed the sign that said welcome to Kansas City Missouri. It was almost 10 AM the day after the debacle at the coffee shop. The trip from Houston to Kansas City was a solid 12 hours by car and his convoy had started much later than Carlos wanted to. He had killed two more of the illegal immigrants and one of their brats while waiting to leave. It was the only way to satiate the rage boiling through his mind. He wasn't worried about killing the illegals. His men brought several hundred or more across the border every day that he could choose from and there were a million more where they came from. Someplace in the recesses of his mind he did regret killing one of his own men when the rage became too much to manage and another illegal wasn't close enough for him to reach before losing control.

He punched a speed dial on his phone and growled, "Report," after it was answered.

"Si Patron," the voice said. "They are building up their defenses at the old man's hacienda as if everyone were hiding there. I found out this morning that Rizzo, his family, and his inner circle left and will hide at one of his farms. They ran like cowards to let their men face your anger," the voice said.

"Where can I find the farm and how many defenders are there?" Carlos demanded in a voice that sounded like bones grinding.

"There are about 20 men at the farm but I also found out there is a bunker they can hide in. I've sent a man to get the building plans so I can know where it is and how to get access to it."

"Where is the farm?" Carlos barked into the phone. The voice told him and Carlos growled, "text it to me then get that information about the bunker to me ASAP."

"Yes sir," the voice said in a near panic before hanging up. Moments later the phone beeped with an incoming text message. Carlos copied the address into a mapping program and cursed again. He hit the send button on a radio and said, "Turn around and go west on I-70 then south on Kansas state route 7. We are looking for a town called Bonner Springs."

Carlos chuckled to himself when he felt the SUV slow. "You can run from me old man," he laughed to himself quietly. "But you can't hide from me."

Forty minutes later Carlos ordered the six vehicle caravan to enter a large park on the east side of Bonner Springs. The one carrying Carlos parked near the center of the park and the five others created a perimeter around their leader.

Two calls from Carlos had the rest of the men and women on his payroll in the Kansas City area moving toward the park. Carlos calculated that he would have over 100 soldiers with him during the attack on the farm. He instructed them to bring at least two women for him to use to quench his rage while they waited to attack. The information about the bunker at the farm was delivered to him by 2PM.

"It's not a fucking bunker," Carlos sputtered in rage. "They built the barn over and damn missile silo." His countenance twisted and darkened and changed. His vision reddened and he started to reach for one of the young girls that had been provided for him.

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