Chapter 56 #2
“Old freight depot near the river,” he says. “South side. Used to be a shipping transfer point before the city shut half of it down. Arsen’s been using one of the back buildings as a temporary hold site.”
Pietro zooms in.
“Here?” he asks.
Gabriel nods. “That cluster. The farthest one from the road. Loading access in the back. Chain-link perimeter. Half the cameras are for show. Two are real.”
“Men?” Angelo asks.
“Six outside,” Gabriel says. “Maybe eight if he’s nervous. More inside depending on what he’s moving.”
My hands curl into fists at the words what he’s moving.
Ayla is not product.
Ayla is not cargo.
Ayla is not one more breathing body in a bastard’s pipeline.
Gabriel sees something in my face and wisely keeps going.
“He won’t keep her there long. It’s almost been twenty-four hours. If he thinks anyone is looking, he’ll move her before dark.”
Every muscle in my body locks.
I knew that.
Still hearing it out loud makes something murderous slide colder under my skin.
“How do we get in?” Vaska asks.
Gabriel shifts against the chair, grimacing. “Front goes loud. Too exposed. Side fence has a dead angle near the back loading dock. There’s a drainage strip that cuts behind the east wall. If you move right, you can get men close before they see shit.”
“Police response?” Angelo asks.
“Depends how loud you get and how fast you’re gone,” Gabriel says. “It’s industrial enough that you’ve got minutes, not long.”
I look at Pietro. “Pull satellite. Street cams. Traffic flow. Everything around that depot.”
“Already on it.”
Dimitri is on his phone before I even tell him. “I’ll get cars ready.”
“No convoy,” I snap. “Too obvious.”
He nods once. “Then two teams.”
“Three,” Vaska says. “Front pressure, back entry, perimeter catch.”
I glance at him. He keeps his eyes on the map.
Good.
That’s why he’s here.
Angelo folds his arms, staring at the depot layout. “We wait till nightfall.”
Every muscle in my body locks. “No.”
“Yes,” he says, just as flat. “You go in there now, in daylight, and you risk noise, witnesses, cops, the whole thing going sideways before you even get to her.”
I stare at the map hard enough to burn through it.
He steps closer. “You know I’m right.”
I do.
That’s the worst part.
Because every second we wait is another second she stays with him, but daylight makes this dirty. Sloppy. Loud. The last thing I need is police on our ass or Arsen catching heat before I get my hands on her.
My jaw flexes. “I know.”
That almost undoes something in me.
Almost.
But there’s no room for that now.
No room for anything except the image of Ayla on that screen and the ticking clock in my skull getting louder by the second.
I look at Gabriel one more time.
“If this gets her hurt—”
“It’s already too late for that. You know it,” he says, exhausted and raw. “I’m just trying to keep her breathing.”
My vision goes white for one hot second. Vaska steps in before I can cross the room again. Not touching me. Just there.
“Focus,” he says quietly.
I drag in a breath so hard it burns.
He’s right.
Again.
I fucking hate when he’s right. I look at the room. At my men. At Angelo. At the map.
Then I point at Gabriel.
“Cut him loose.”
Dimitri turns, startled. “Pakhan—”
“He comes with us.”
That gets everybody’s attention.
Gabriel’s head lifts sharply. “What?”
I meet his gaze.
“You wanted the truce. You wanted to live. You wanted me to believe you.” I step toward him slowly. “Congratulations. You’re now part of the rescue.”
Gabriel laughs once, tired and rough. “Me alone won’t get you close enough.”
I say nothing.
He shifts against the restraints, eyes cutting to the map. “Arsen’s men know mine. If I call this in right, if my people roll up looking like business instead of war, they won’t clock it right away. Gives you cover. Gives you a window.”
Dimitri mutters something low. Vaska stays silent.
I look at Gabriel for a long second. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust a single breath that comes out of his mouth.
But he’s right.
A clean lie gets me closer to her than brute force ever will.
“You call one wrong man,” I say, “or say one wrong word, and I put you down before the sentence finishes.”
Gabriel’s stare doesn’t waver. “Fine.”
“Fine,” I repeat, cold. “You make the call when I tell you to.”
He huffs out a laugh.
“Get him cleaned up enough that he doesn’t look like he came out of my house.” My gaze cuts to Dimitri. “Not too clean.”
A dark grin twitches at the corner of Dimitri’s mouth. “Got it.”
“Pietro, send the route.” He nods.
“Vaska, with me.”
“Ivan, perimeter team.” A sharp dip of his chin.
I look at Angelo last.
He doesn’t ask if I want him there. Doesn’t ask if I’m sure. He already knows the answer to both.
“You in?” I ask.
Angelo’s gaze stays on the map. On the depot. On the mess we made years ago that never stopped bleeding.
Then he looks at me.
“We started this together,” he says, voice flat and certain. “We end it together.”
I grab my gun off the table, check the magazine by feel, rack it once, and shove it into the holster at my back.
Then I turn for the door.
The sun outside is too bright. The day is too far gone. Every instinct in me is screaming that I am already late.
But late is not dead.
Not yet.
And until somebody puts a body in front of me, Ayla is mine to get back. I pause with my hand on the door and look over my shoulder at Gabriel being untied.
“If she’s breathing when I find her,” I say, “we keep your truce.”
His eyes narrow.
“And if she’s not?” he asks.
Something cold and absolute settles into place inside me.
I open the door.
“Then there won’t be enough left of you to bury.”