And Ross was on the pedal, the Range Rover's V8 roaring into life as they left the bar, the pursuit of vehicles behind them clear to Ross, as he knew he had to drive, and drive like mad. He didn't take the roads they came here on, but opted for even shittier gravel and sand-banked roads, putting every brake horsepower of throttle down to drive, and evade the cars behind. He could hear Athena smash the rear window, and begin spraying, taking shots as he focused only on what was ahead. It was like escaping the cops, only the stakes were higher. 

The rough roads were hard and horrid, bumping like hell but Ross was taking it in, hugging each corner as best as he could, the Range actually four-wheel drifting on the loose sand, the noise of rounds flying past reminding him to keep on the throttle.

Mark stuck his upper body out of the car window, putting his M4A1 outside, as he joined Athena in shooting at the people after them, popping off bursts of rounds. He took out the passenger from the one that had replaced the previous chase car, the glass shattering as he swore, the bumps making it hard to shoot. Ross was on it, and putting distance between them, but Mark was aware that they had to get away, and fast- he had to end this here.

Taking a breath, Mark sent a single 5.56 into the driver side, slamming into the man's chest, as the car skidded and tipped over, Mark holding on from his position as Ross turned the corner hard. Mark tightly held onto the side of the pillar as he watched the car behind crash, chuckling as he took the mag out, sliding a new one in, looking back at Athena. They'd ran out of cars it looked like, for now at least.
"Nice shooting. Kept us out of trouble." Mark said to her, as he leaned back into his headrest, looking at Ross.
"Drive us somewhere off the tracks. We have information to extract. Go further away than you think you need to." 

--

Putting the pistol up against Luis's temple, Mark looked in, the middle of nowhere as good a place as any for this, given they had left the road. 
"I know you speak English." Mark said, coldly, calmly, utterly remorseless, as he sighed.
"So, I want you to talk to me. Tell me, where is the rest of your gang. And how many." Mark started slow, Luis on the floor, tied at legs and arms, left to the baking sun for a little while before Mark had started the process.

"Shit.....I can't, or I'm dead!" He screamed sheepishly, knowing it was very true, but Mark wasn't taking that for an answer.
"Way I see it, only way I go from here is torturing you. And some of the body bits you might lose during that, might not come back. My friend here knows my reputation." Mark said, tutting, as Ross watched on, Mark looking at Luis, chuckling.

"They call me the Surgeon. Because what I do, is I can do things to your limbs that no other medical professional will do. What I do, is I start first with the nails. Rip a few out. If that doesn't work, I work my way up. Take a toe, take a finger. Then a hand, or a foot. Then a forearm. Do you know how long it takes for you to bleed out?" Mark said, shaking his head, sitting down by the man, legs buried in the sand, chuckling.

"Not long enough, because it'll be tourniqueted, and I'll work on the other parts of you that you don't need to live. I'm thinking you're a really juicy specimen." Mark said, shaking his head, taking Luis's heavily tattooed arm.
"My friend here has seen what my work can do. It's really pretty. And that sleeve of yours must have cost you mucho dollares. Lemme see. I might start with that one first." Mark said, as he shoved the sharp shank into his arm, Luis roaring with pain, drawing it out, as he then yanked his arm tight, the pain searing through Luis's body, smirking.
"Let's see. You clearly don't fucking clean your fingernails. Let's fix that." Taking the toolbox closer, Mark pulled out the pliers, and did his thing. 

What happened next nobody wanted to watch, because Mark was unrelenting, it was pure torture, and nothing more, nothing less. Luis was not co-operative, and he was changing his mind, fast. Mark knew that when he broke, it would be everything. A professional would leak slowly, but Luis was prime material for this style. He was perfect. 

It took a bit of fear, and only three fingernails to be completely ripped out with pliers to get it working. Luis was sobbing, as Mark looked on into his eyes, burning from tequila and rage.
"Now. I'm going to repeat my question. Where, are, your, friends?"

Luis cried, and if he hadn't shat himself already, he was now.
"It's in Baja, Baja! There's a mansion in the Sud, I swear!" 
"Go on. I want GPS co-ordinates. Now, I'm going to free your other hand. I'm going to give you my phone. I want you to type in the GPS co-ordinates. I know you know them. Do that, and I'm going to let you live, and get you far away from here." Mark added, pulling his hand free from the zip-tie, holding his other arm behind his back, the bloody stain pouring down his shirt.

Luis did as he was told, slowly typing numbers in, doing as he was told, a good little boy. The numbers were coming up with a site, and there was a building there. It was the place alright, as Mark nodded, snatching the phone out of his hands.

"How many?"
"All of the gang, I swear. I'm the only other one!"
"Sure? I want to try your other hand." 
"I swear! There aren't any more. They have lots of guns, lots of security. Maybe 20, 30. They're going to leave soon!" He said, as Mark nodded.

"Good. You saved us a lot of trouble." Mark said, as Luis looked up, his legs still tight, as he tried to get his legs, Mark kicking him hard in the ribs.

"I'll save you yours." Mark coldly said, drawing the P226 and cleanly shooting him between the eyes, straight through the nose with a gentle piss of blood trickling out as he kicked him over.
"We got what we came for. Cartels, or his crew would have made him a goner. We don't leave loose ends. Not when they seem to be willing to kill a pregnant woman and her husband." Mark said, Ross looking on in horror, as he knew the rest would.

"Seriously, after you said that to him?" Ross exclaimed, looking on in horror, a little taken aback by what Mark had just done, especially after all that had just occurred, the promise he'd just snapped on.

"I won't repeat myself. I told you what this would be. We need to go, now." Mark didn't stutter. He had a point, but knew at that moment, he wasn't going to be anyone's favourite person, least Athena's, given he just summarily executed a man.
"I'm going to come up with a plan. It isn't going to be easy, lads, but we might need to hurry up." 

----

Two Hours Later

Aeropuerto de Nogales, Mexico

Luis's dead body had been left in the desert, buried beneath a tarpaulin off the road, in the midst of nowhere. If someone found him, they'd think it was another Cartel hit, not what was going on. It was as dead as he was right now, and while not a moral decision, it was for the better. They wouldn't have been able to extract him, nor guarantee his safety. It was better they killed him there, then let him live to be shot in the back of the head in America.

It seemed that the place he had described was fortified, a mansion west of Cabo San Lucas, a town at the southermost tip of Baja California, looking out to the Pacific. A modern one, with all the trimmings, for some rich millionaire's vacation home, given a helicopter and numerous cars were parked there, at least in the old satellite photo on Google Maps. It was perched atop a cliff, and a seriously difficult place to hit, given the fortified walls all around it. It was not going to be easy. Remote, desolate, there were rocky mountains with sweet fuck all, and only a crappy dirt track following the coastal cliffs to it, with dry riverbed valleys inland of it. There was going to be a serious security presence, but Mark didn't know exactly what. If he knew where it was, they were going to be able to rip through it, but not unless they knew what they were up against. 

In all, Mark knew that it wouldn't work, not unless they did something better. But then it occurred to him, on the car drive down, and at the airport. There was one girl that knew something a bit more extraordinary, and she happened to be with them. After all, they had no idea what they were in for, but Mark took a guess that Ellie, if she wasn't good with a gun, could do something a little more than any of them. They needed someone to do some recon, and getting in was nigh-on impossible from any other angle. Apart from one.

Above.

Mark knew she didn't need to do much, but what she was good at, would be infiltration. She was skinny, and no doubt a good athlete, so she would go in good stead to get it done. They needed to fly out to there anyway, and the timings of this had to be like clockwork, or they wouldn't get it. Mark hadn't told the team the plan, but knew that no doubt, he was going to get a lot more weird looks.

"Zane said he'd be here any minute. Flying a Cessna 208 he told me, should have the fuel to carry on to Cabo San Luis. They're going to take their time at customs, but luckily, that man over there was very partial to the idea of us carrying weapons. Turns out he really wanted a Range Rover. See, it has it's use." Mark said, as he stood up, opening the boot of the open Range Rover, and sliding a few cases out of it, two containing rifles, one containing his own kit, and the other containing Ellie's stuff, as per instruction from the last time they'd set out for here.

"Looks like this Mansion, whatever it is, is our last destination for our tour. The entirety of the gang, and any affiliates are there. I might have an idea for how we deal with it." Mark said, as Ross pitched his head over.

"Ramraid and kill everyone we find? Or have you got a better plan? You heard what he said. It's not going to be easy." Ross replied, Mark nodding.

"I think we have an advantage. They don't know we're coming. Or they won't, given we have a plane at our disposal, and some kit I called for coming in." Mark added, Ross looking to the Royal Marine, a bit bemused.

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking Ellie and me drop in from the plane. She happens to be the only one who knows how to use a chute apart from me on this team. We sneak in, and we find out what their weaknesses are, and what supplies they're packing. That's all while you and Athena fly into the airport in town over the course of the evening. You'll need to rent, or just find some off-road motorbikes or rough transport, and get into the hills...it isn't far but there's tracks going that way and we'll all meet near the mansion, on a GPS co-ordinate in the valleys. When night comes, we take them from the angle nobody would really give two thoughts about, and take them down knowing where they're weak. We eliminate anyone we come across, take down their files on anyone they were tracking, find transport, and get the fuck back to the plane, and out of country, before any Federales show up and ask why there's lots of dead people." Mark was meticulous, but it sounded completely insane, to whatever observer was listening.

Ross was speechless for just a moment, looking to him.
"Are you...you know, fucking mad?"
"Only a little. But the alternative is a ram-raid, and I don't like the idea of that. 30-40 people is a suicide mission, but with the right planning, we can make it work, but only if we're using speed and aggression, from an angle they won't expect, with a thought process they don't think of." Mark said, as it sunk into the rest of the team, Ross shaking his head.

"You are off your head. And how exactly do you expect you can infiltrate a highly guarded secure compound, without making a single mark?"
"Leave that to me. Ellie's proven herself capable, and we will make that side of it work. Anyway, I don't see you having a better plan. I give it 24 hours before they leave and scatter, then we're fucked, and we won't ever be able to solve your problem. As it stands, we're lucky to have this opportunity."

The noise of the Cessna flying in from the distance could be audibly heard, as Mark sat up from the chair, throwing the Range's keys to the Customs Agent, taking all the bags he could carry and smirking.
"Come on then. We have a job to do. If you have anything to add to the plan, we'll clear it in the plane. I promise you won't have to do much Ellie, but I need your eyes and ears for this one."