"What did you do?"
"Let's just say you're going to experience the joys of what it's like to O.D on your own product. Enjoy the rush." I turned to go.
"Who sent you?" He mumbled out.
"No one sent me. I'm just a concerned citizen who doesn't like the services that you provide."
He mumbled something in Spanish, and I recognized it as the name the cartels had for me. Below the border the name was loosely interpreted as, 'Death Angel' in English.
They could call me whatever they wanted to as long as I caused them to have a little of their own medicine back in return. Screams of hysteria erupted behind me, as I made my way down the ground staircase as the cartel's recovering wife found him on the terrace.
I was on my way across the marble floor of the front vestibule, when small caliber bullets began to ping off the floor and wall ahead of me, but I just kept walking. At the front door of the house I turned back.
The wife still half naked, her body bruised and her face swollen from her husband's mistreatment, stood on the upper stairway balcony a pistol gripped in her hands as she breathed hard. I reached my hand down to my left side and it came away with blood from where one lucky bullet had cut a groove.
"For that you can find a new place to live lady."
I pulled two phosphorus grenades out and pulled the pins and tossed each into adjoining rooms to either side of the grand foyer. Shrieking the woman fled back the way she had come.
I stepped out into the cooler night air as the windows to either side of me shattered as white-hot flames shot through them. The mansion was well on its way to being engulfed in flames by the time I reached the extensive garage.
Number sixteen looked good so I got in and started it up. It gave me a throaty purr as proof of life and I floored it with a screech of tires.
The vintage Camaro bolted forward smashing through the garage door even as I dropped another grenade out the window in my passing. The purchase of number twenty eight would have to wait along with the goal of reaching one hundred cars.
I peeled out onto the road leaving rubber driving like I had stolen it. My legend would only grow after tonight. Unfortunately so would the hatred of the cartels for me, which would spur them on in their quest to capture me. I didn't need the extra intensity, but that was all right I was living on borrowed time anyway.