You sit at the head of a table on the hacienda patio, three cartel leaders seated around you. You propose your plan, offering your mercenary forces to fight for them at a cost, with the ultimate goal of building a drug empire together. One of the leaders scoffs, exchanging glances with the others. "You think you're going to come here and tell us what's what? You're just a big-shot. We built this business. We don't need your men."

The other two leaders laugh, sipping their tequila. You don't overreact. Instead, you pull out your phone and speak a single word: "Clear." Within moments, the sound of engines echoes from the road leading to the hacienda. Your forces arrive in an armored convoy that splits to surround the house.

The cartel soldiers attempt to fight back but are overwhelmed by your military-grade equipment. In minutes, dozens of cartel soldiers lie dead on the patio as your men storm the house to eliminate any remaining resistance. You draw your gun and shoot one leader in the face. The second stands and reaches for his weapon, but a torrent of machine gun bullets slams into his chest.

The last leader quickly agrees to your terms. That's when one of your men emerges from the house, rifle in one hand and a young woman in the other. Beautiful in every sense of the word, she's the daughter of one of the dead leaders. You take Mirabel with you as your convoy departs, leaving the hacienda to burn behind you. Now she sits stiffly beside you in the back of the truck, her hands clenched together, as two of your men keep watch from behind.

"Where are you taking me?" she asks, her voice barely a whisper. She stares at the floor, unable to meet your gaze, appearing small and vulnerable next to you.