Chapter 23
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BOONE GLANCED AT THE time again, cursing.
Something was wrong—very fucking wrong. Radley had been gone over thirty minutes.
He wouldn’t have been overly concerned, except she wasn’t answering his texts.
When he tried calling her number, it went to voicemail.
He knew she’d taken her phone with her, and the fact that she was still gone meant something had happened.
She would’ve responded by now otherwise.
Leaving the camera feed open on his laptop, he shot off a quick text to the team. Might as well loop them in now. In his gut, Boone knew there was trouble. He only wished he’d hustled down to the lobby sooner.
Boone rushed to the elevator bank, glancing at the reply from Holt as his phone buzzed.
Holt: Keep me updated. We’ll pivot and divert our resources to find her if necessary.
Boone huffed out a sigh of relief. At least the boss trusted his instincts. Boone hoped like hell he was wrong about Radley but had a horrible feeling.
The elevator doors opened, and he did a quick sweep of the lobby.
Not that he expected Radley to be sitting there, but he had to do his due diligence.
His gaze landed on two unattended suitcases, but then a mother and her teenage daughter headed toward them.
A few people were in the lounge chairs, in no hurry, and a man walked by talking on his cell phone. Everything seemed normal.
Except Radley wasn’t here.
Boone moved through the front doors, where the cab had dropped them off not even an hour ago.
How could things have gone wrong so damn quickly?
With a quick glance to the left and right, he decided to head left first. Boone began to circle the building, keeping his eyes peeled for anything unusual.
As he rounded the corner, he noted how dark it was.
Shit.
He never should’ve let Radley come out here alone.
It was quiet, too quiet, and his heartbeat sped up. He moved silently, in full stealth mode, but he didn’t think it mattered.
No one was here.
Boone hurried toward the loading docks, his gaze scanning the darkness. Suddenly his chest clenched. Right there on the fucking ground was Radley’s backpack and phone.
“Radley!” he called out, knowing there’d be no response.
He rushed closer, scanning the ground. Turning on the flashlight of his phone, he swept it over the surrounding area. He was relieved to see there was no blood splatter or other sign of a struggle. Except Radley wasn’t here. Her phone and leather backpack lay discarded on the ground.
She’d been taken.
***
BOONE SWIPED HER STUFF up and was running back to the room before he even realized what he was doing. He lifted his phone to his ear, Holt’s voice suddenly on the other end of the line.
“They took her,” Boone said, breathing heavily. “Someone fucking took her. Back alley, by the loading docks. It’s dark and secluded, and I found her damn stuff on the ground!”
“I’ll have IT get into the feeds. We’ll find her,” Holt stressed.
Waves of anguish washed over Boone as he punched the button for the elevator.
He pressed it again and again, as if that would somehow make it go faster.
He glanced toward the stairwell, half debating running all the flights up to his room.
Finally, blessedly, the elevator doors opened.
He dodged a couple coming out and pressed the number for his own floor.
Thoughts were flying through his mind as he exited and ran down the hall.
He needed his weapons. Gear. A fucking plan.
Boone tore through his oversized duffle bag as soon as he got in the room.
If he didn’t hear back from Holt in a few minutes, he was going to go speak with hotel security himself.
That would draw attention he didn’t need, but shit. Radley’s life was in danger.
His phone buzzed, and Boone instantly answered. “Boone here. Talk to me.”
“It’s Quinn. Holt’s on the line, too.”
“Copy that,” Boone said. “What’s the word?”
“I got in the camera feed. Given this just happened, I didn’t have to look through much footage. She was taken by Mike Cameron, the same man that’s been stalking her. And Boone? I got a plate. He double parked on the other side of the building, but it was clear as day.”
“Holy shit that was fast. What’s next?” Boone asked, barely able to think straight.
“The vehicle has GPS. He might not realize it, given it’s a rental, but it will lead us straight to him.
Give me a sec,” Quinn said, typing rapidly.
“I hacked into the rental company’s database, but the GPS is different.
Hang on.... Okay, I’m in. Let me just pull up his information.
I’ve got the address! I’m sending it to you right now. ”
“Thank God,” Boone breathed. “And thank you Quinn for saving the day. I’m on my way,” Boone said as he jumped up. “Shit—the terror plot,” Boone cursed.
“Find Radley,” Holt ordered, his voice hard. “She’s your priority. I’m sending Gage down to L.A. I’ll get him on a private jet tonight to ensure his quick arrival. He’ll handle the threats to L.A. and work with the local PD. Go!”
“Understood, boss,” Boone said, already moving. He holstered his weapon, tucking a knife into a strap around his ankle. He eyed his rifle, quickly grabbing that as well. No sense in taking any chances. He’d be fully prepared. Boone was taking out Cameron—tonight.
***
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Boone was pulling up to a neighborhood in North Hollywood. That asshole had rented a house on a vacation rental site. He’d flown from Seattle to L.A., easily tracking Radley.
How the fuck did he know where she was?
Boone didn’t have time to ponder that at the moment. All that mattered was getting to his girl.
He jumped out of the cab, cursing at the fact that everyone likely had doorbell cameras. The last thing he needed were the police showing up and spooking Cameron. He’d had enough trouble trying to remain calm on the cab ride over.
Next time he traveled anywhere, he was renting a car.
Boone calmly scanned the street, trying to remain inconspicuous.
Hopefully he looked like a tourist. Except it was the middle of the night, and he was carrying a backpack and duffle bag.
Thankfully these homes backed up to the wild, overgrown canyon.
Urban wilderness, as the locals called it.
Once he got the address, he could sneak in the backyard, hopefully undetected.
Boone moved quickly and stealthily through the quiet streets. His pulse was pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins. It had only been a couple of hours at this point since Radley had been kidnapped, but it felt like a lifetime.
Was Radley hurt? Was she alive?
He’d taken out a number of tangos in his lifetime, but he’d never been so angry.
Boone’s eyes widened as he finally found the correct address. Sure as shit, the vehicle Quinn had ID’d was parked right out in the driveway. Arrogant prick to assume no one would come looking for him. And that would be his fucking downfall.
Boone snuck into the backyard, quietly surveilling the house. A light was on in one room upstairs, and his stomach dropped.
Did Cameron have her in the same room as him? Upstairs meant bedrooms, and a bed meant—
Boone fought against the urge to vomit. If Cameron so much as touched her, he’d have hell to pay. He was a goddamn dead man.
Moving quietly, Boone was surprised to note that he could see inside the home.
That asshole hadn’t even bothered to close any curtains.
Muttering silently to himself, Boone eyed the large trees just edging the property.
He’d be an idiot to race in there without assessing the situation first—not when he had a prime opportunity.
The window wasn’t covered, a low light was on, and he had easy access to look straight in.
“Son of a bitch,” Boone spat out, hustling toward the trees.
He set his gear down, and instinctively, reached for the rifle in his duffle bag.
Once a sniper, always a sniper. He slid the strap on, the rifle at his back.
Next, he pulled out his comms equipment.
He’d told Holt he wouldn’t put in his earpiece and mic until he was in position so as not to arouse suspicion when in the cab or in case he encountered anyone on the street.
Not that hauling around a duffle bag looked entirely innocuous.
Boone clicked his mic. “I’m at the address,” he said in a low voice. “The property backs up to a forested area—canyons and whatnot. There’s one light on upstairs, with nothing covering the window. I’m climbing a tree at the edge of the backyard for a better vantage point. Over.”
“Copy that,” Holt said over his headset.
Boone shook his head. He was used to working with a team. To securing the area from above while his buddies rushed in. Tonight, he was out here completely alone.
Nothing, however, would stop him from getting to Radley.
Gripping a lower branch, he hauled himself up. Thank God for his daily workouts.
Boone steadily climbed upwards, never once fearing he’d fall.
His sole focus was to get eyes on Radley.
Barely breaking a sweat, he hauled himself up another branch, his muscles bunching.
His focus began to narrow, taking in only his immediate surroundings.
The darkness. The air temperature. The wind.
Boone was in the zone. Just as he’d silently watched over his buddies a million times, he’d quietly watch over his girl right now.
And then there’d be hell to unleash.
When Boone reached his position directly across from the window, he nearly choked.
He could see Radley lying on the bed, her arms and legs restrained, tied to the bedposts.
Rage coursed through him, hot and burning.
He sucked in a breath, trying to maintain his composure.
To keep his head on straight as he’d done for every other mission in his lifetime.
She was clothed, thank fuck, but something was going on.
She was trying to move, fighting against the restraints. Talking to someone.
That bastard was in the same room as her.
Boone was running out of time.
He slid his rifle around. He didn’t know what was going on, but he was certain it wasn’t good. Suddenly, a man appeared in his line of sight. Boone squinted, frowning. It didn’t look like the photo of Cameron, this man having a shaved head, but then he briefly turned to the side.
That profile.
Boone would know it anywhere.
“Fucking bastard,” he muttered.
Boone lifted his rifle, his instincts taking over.
He might not have time to breach the home and run upstairs to get to her in time.
He had no idea if he’d encounter anyone else inside.
Boone had the perfect vantage point right here.
He clicked his mic, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over him.
“I have Radley in my sights. She’s restrained,” he choked out.
“Tied to a bed. The tango is in the room with her. They’re arguing.
Shit,” he spat out as Cameron suddenly rushed to Radley. “I’m taking the kill shot.”