TWENTY
Con’s face felt numb as the line went dead in his ear. Sophie. They had her. They had his woman.
He whirled to face his team. The minute he walked through the door of the safe house, the phone rang with an unfamiliar number and he answered it only to hear Sophie’s voice. Too bright and too brittle.
“Mason, you drive. Denver, I need a map app. Now!” He barked orders as he strode out the door.
Everyone jumped to do his bidding. Mason jumped behind the wheel of the vehicle, and he took shotgun. From the back seat, Denver thrust a hand between the seats, a phone with a map on the screen in hand.
Con snatched it from him. “Drive. Toward the dock.”
“What the hell’s happening?” Mason shoved the vehicle in gear and stomped on the gas pedal.
“They have Sophie.”
“Holy fuck. Who does?”
“Our mark. The one we’ve been looking for. They made her read off a script. Saying that if we attempted to stop that shipment from reaching the States, we’d put targets on her back and ours too.” He stared at the screen, moving the map along the coast.
“And she gave you a location?”
“No.” He skimmed one portion of the waterfront twice.
“What are you looking for then?” Denver asked.
“A Lebanese restaurant on the waterfront.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“She was playing around one night, making up code words. She was speaking in code to me.” He didn’t look away from the screen but felt Mason, Denver and Henner’s attention on him.
He looked up at them. “I know how her mind works. These are clues, goddammit!”
“Tell us everything, Con. We need to know what to look for.” Mason cut off a driver, and a cacophony of horn blasts sounded behind them.
“You’re telling us that you and Sophie made up a secret code?” Henner sounded as much amused as he did stunned.
“She made it up. She said, ‘I’d love to talk longer, but I have to go. It’s nom-nom time. I hope these guys can understand me—I’m pretty sure they only speak Lebanese.’”
Mason jerked his head to pierce Con in his stare. “And you got a location from that? What the fuck is nom-nom time?”
“It means that she’s near a Lebanese restaurant. Then she said, ‘Wave bye.’ She’s on the waterfront.” He brought the phone closer to his face. Triumph blasted through his chest.
“Here! I got it!” He held up the phone.
“Why would they hold her in a restaurant? Con, you’re not thinking straight.” Concern seeped into Denver’s tone.
“It’s a landmark—something she saw. She’s feeding me a clue. Just get there, dammit.”
He ground his teeth in frustration. When it came to Sophie, his feelings might be at play, but the plan was crystal clear.
Mason had the coordinates dialed in. As they neared the location, Con searched for spots where someone would hold a woman against her will.
“Henner, quick. Are any of these places connected to that gang?”
“The one you detained has a brother with an auto shop around here. Let me get the address.”
“That has to be it.” Con gripped the armrest until his fingers ached. When a full minute had passed, he whipped around in his seat. “This is why we don’t fucking get involved with people. Give me your phone, Chickie!”
Henner held out the device to him, and Con ripped it out of his hand. Silence throbbed in the vehicle as he searched the streets for the garage in the vicinity of the restaurant Sophie had seen.
When he spotted it on the map, relief flooded into his veins. “Turn right here!” He stared at the building. The block seemed to be crumbling from age and lack of upkeep. A sign that had been painted by hand hung crooked on the side.
“This place isn’t open for business.”
“No. It’s a hangout.” He reached for the door handle, prepared to leap out the instant Mason stopped the vehicle.
“On my signal. Chickie, you take down the door. Denver, go left. Mason, right.”
“Copy,” echoed each man.
The street in front of the building was too narrow for more than one car to pass.
“Odd for an auto shop; there’s no place to pull in.” A garage door was pulled down, and nobody appeared to be around.
He spotted a door to the side. “There.” He jabbed a finger at the entrance.
Mason whipped the vehicle to the front and parked half on the street, half on the bit of walkway in front of the building.
“Go!” Con threw open his door and rushed out, weapon at the ready.
Sophie was in there. He could feel it in his bones. He could sense her.
Henner rushed the door. He lifted a boot and delivered a hard kick over the lock. The splintering noise of wood filled the air, followed by a short scream from within.
Henner thrust his shoulder into the door, busting it in completely. It hung on the hinges. Con didn’t hesitate. He blew inside, head swinging left and right as his other men peeled off behind him and with Henner on his six.
A series of small rooms that probably served as offices at one time when the business was still operating were empty. But they’d heard somebody scream—people were here.
They reached a closed door. He kicked it in with a violence he rarely fully let loose on the world. Nobody was going to fuck with the woman he loved. He was getting Sophie back.
He led with his weapon, sweeping the space. Boxes were piled up in every corner of the room. One teetered as if about to fall.
“Come out! Hands in the air!”
For a beat, nobody moved. Con rushed in, prepared to shoot to kill.
Hiding in the corner was a woman. Crouched down, her hands over her head.
“Out!” he barked in Turkish.
She whimpered and stumbled forward.
“Check her,” he ordered Henner.
He pushed forward and frisked her. “Clear.”
“Tie her up.”
Henner pulled out several zip-ties and made quick work of it while Con turned for the door. He threw out his hearing. Silence seemed to pulse. He knew from experience, that was never good.
“Charlie 5, come in.”
“Copy.”
“Got anything?”
“Negative.”
A sudden shout broke the silence.
Con shot forward with Henner on his six. Then he heard the shrill scream of a woman.
Chills broke out all over Con. Fury ignited in his veins. His feet pounded the floor as he followed the sound. There were no basements in this part of the world, so where were they holding her? His team had combed every inch of the place.
“There must be a hidden room,” he ground out as he began to kick at walls and shove his shoulder into anything that looked remotely unstable. He would rip this building apart with his own two hands if it meant getting Sophie back.
Another scream sounded from Con’s left, but in his comms unit, he heard it even louder. Closer.
Denver and Mason were closing in on her. He moved in their direction, every sense dialed in. There was no room for error. No option to fail.
“Help!” Her cry was cut off by a series of thuds.
Someone was beating her.
Con threw himself at the center of a wall between two wooden panels. It gave way, and he smashed through the false wall.
He took aim at the man holding Sophie prisoner. One glance showed him that she was tied up to a chair and bleeding.
And alive.
* * * * *
Con snaked out a long, strong arm past Sophie and pushed open the door of the safe house. He guided her forward. Her legs wobbled, but she was determined not to collapse. She’d withstood everything up to this point. She wasn’t going to wimp out now.
She stood swaying in the entryway, trying not to wince from the pain. Blood from one of the blows her captor delivered to her had clotted at her hairline and the wound tugged when she made a face.
Three guys from the Blackout team appeared in the doorway, stopping short.
“Somebody get the first-aid kit,” Con barked.
One man disappeared to do his bidding while the others moved aside, allowing Con to lead her to the kitchen.
“Chickie, bring that stool.”
A moment later, a stool appeared in front of her, and Con led her to it. Her knees gave way, and she plopped down hard. Con locked his arms around her, holding her against his chest.
“Matthews!”
“Here, Con.” Matthews pushed through the group of guys watching everything that was going on.
She hated being the center of attention in such a negative way. Having so many bad-ass men witness her frailties left her feeling even lower.
Matthews moved closer. Con let out a low growl of warning.
Matthews looked up at him. “Con. You’re going to have to actually let me examine her.”
Still supporting her, he moved behind her and wrapped his arms gently around her chest. She rested against him while Matthews checked out her cuts and bruises.
“Do you have a headache?”
“Yes.” Her dry throat rasped the words.
“Somebody get her water!” Con ordered.
She heard the refrigerator opening and closing. A moment later, an opened bottle of water hovered in front of her face. She took the bottle, drawing calm from the coolness of the plastic. When she raised the drink to her mouth, her hand shook.
Con wrapped his around hers, steadying it while she sipped.
This man…was here for her. Someone she could rely on. A partner.
She never thought that she’d get a second chance with love. She always figured that if she found someone, they’d cohabitate without the paperwork, but Con made her think about real wedding rings and sharing lives.
“I feel like a weak Victorian child.” Her soft words brought a few laughs from the men around her.
Matthews prepped some gauze with antiseptic cleaner and dabbed at the cut on her hairline. She winced at the sting but remained still while he worked.
“Any problems with your vision?”
“No.” She had seen all too clearly the look on her captor’s face when he struck her. He enjoyed hurting her.
“What’s your name?”
“Sydney Edgars.”
Con made a noise in his throat. “That’s the fake name we used in the hotel and at the party.”
She issued a short chuckle. “It’s Sophie.”
“Do you know who this guy behind you is?” Matthews gently swabbed the gauze over the cut to clean the clotted blood away.
“The man that I love.” She didn’t even realize that she’d blurted the words in her head until she looked up from Matthews’s face to see all the men wearing stupid grins.
“Jesus.” Con’s gritty voice washed over her ear. She felt him bury his face in her hair.
Did she care who knew her feelings? Not anymore. She’d been kidnapped and beaten. She could have gone to her grave without anyone knowing how she felt about Ryan. She wasn’t about to ever let that happen.
He covered her hand with his bigger one, and she relaxed at the feel of his warm, rough fingers. Drawing strength from his presence.
After Matthews moved from the cut on her hairline to the one on her cheek, she felt much more herself. Some of the fear that had knotted her up was fading as she realized she was safe.
“You probably have a mild concussion. Lots of rest and minimal screen time.” Matthews flicked his stare upward at Con behind her as if daring him to challenge the medical advice.
“She’s not going to be working for a while.”
She had so much to do still. So much work on those cryptograms. “If I don’t get back to work, people are going to die. If I hadn’t seen that image of you in the photo, Cipher could have reached you before I could warn you.”
“Cipher?”
She blinked. Nobody knew what had really happened.
Before she could explain, Con cut across her. “When you’re ready, you’ll debrief. Your only job right now is to let Matthews patch you up and then we’re going to make sure you eat something.”
“Okay.”
Not one man left during the time Matthews worked. The cut on her cheek required a butterfly bandage and he said one of her molars was loose, but he thought it would heal fine.
“Are you finished?” Con tightened his hold on her.
“Yes.”
“Somebody fix food for Sophie. Soup. I’m going to take her to the shower.” Without warning, Con circled her and lifted her in his arms as gently as if she was made of vintage glass.
“Don’t get those bandages wet,” Matthews called out to his back as he swept out of the kitchen with her cradled in his arms.
“Con, this isn’t necessary. I can walk.”
“We’re doing this my way, Sophie.”
He carried her to the bathroom and started the shower. Steam began to fill the space as he stripped her. A dark blue bruise splotched her arm where it had dug into the back of the chair she’d been tied to.
He trailed his fingers alongside it, careful not to touch it. His dark brows were drawn downward in a sharp V.
“Con.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. She reached up and slipped her hand around his nape, drawing him close. A shiver racked her.
“I meant what I said back there. I want everyone to know that I’m in love with you.”
“Jesus, Sophie. I was so fucking scared I’d lost you. I can’t lose you.”
“I don’t want to be your coworker. I want to be your partner.”
“Professor, forget what I said before. I was stupid not to come right out and admit how I feel about you. I’m not going to let you go.”
“But the rules—”
“To hell with the rules. The other team broke them. I can too, goddammit.” He leaned in and very tenderly brushed his lips over hers. A rough shudder rolled through her. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself at him, to strip off her clothes and find the nearest bed. But she felt pretty battered.
When he lifted his head, their gazes held. After that, he did strip her and then himself so he could assist her in the shower. She let the warm water pour over her, easing some of her aches and pains.
After he helped her dry off and dress in one of his T-shirts and a pair of shorts that were much too big and hung halfway down her shins, he took her hands. He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles.
“Think you can talk now? It’s important that it’s fresh in your mind.”
She nodded. “I’m ready.”
Just minutes later, Sophie was seated in the living room around the coffee table. Only this time, all the maps and devices had been removed. The men all gathered around, listening as she began to speak about what happened beginning with the moment that Con walked out of that hotel room.
When she got to the part where she was forced to speak to the man calling himself Cipher, she could have heard a pin drop for how silent the men were.
“Did you happen to see a contact name or number on the phone?” Con asked.
“I wasn’t holding the phone. I was tied up, remember? My captor held the phone to my ear.”
“Did you recognize the voice?”
“No. I’ve never heard it before.”
“Could you tell how old he was?”
She considered the question. “He wasn’t young or old. Everyone in the middle sounds the same. All I know is that this man is angry. I heard it in his voice. I sensed it when he talked. He has a drive for vengeance that he didn’t explain to me, but it’s got to be revealed in some of those photos and cryptograms. If you’ll just get me to a computer—”
Con gripped her hand. “No. That’s all we need for now.” He turned his head and looked at Henner sitting feet away. “Relay all that to Barrett. I’m taking Sophie to bed.”