Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
When they arrived back at the compound, they were met with a nearly full parking area outside the Trident building.
There were several government-issued cars, marked Tampa P.D.
units, and personal vehicles belonging to whoever Devon had managed to contact.
Jenn had about forty surrogate uncles from SEAL Team Four, all of whom would drop everything for Baby-girl, but only a few were close enough to Tampa to get there within a short time frame.
Even Beau knew he was "on duty" and had attached himself to Angie’s side as if knowing she was the human who needed him the most. Boomer’s father, Rick Michaelson, and Devon approached Marco and Ian’s vehicles, which they had driven home from the small airstrip.
As Boomer greeted his dad, who was also a former SEAL, Devon got down to business and filled them all in.
“Still no word from the kidnappers, and we can’t figure out why because it’s been over three hours.
They’ve gotta still be in Tampa somewhere because Angie’s their objective.
In addition to Rick, we’ve got Bannerman, Rad, and Urkel inside the conference room doing what they can to coordinate everything and try to figure out where they may have her.
We also called Chase and asked him to spare whoever he had on hand, which was only five guys with the experience we need. ”
When necessary, Trident contracted additional manpower from Chase Dixon, who owned Blackhawk Security.
It was his two men who’d been assigned to protect Jenn.
“But he’ll have more tomorrow if it goes that long.
He’s at the hospital with Henderson, who’s still in surgery.
His folks are on their way from Jacksonville.
I told Chase to book them a room at the Hilton up the street from the hospital and bill it to me.
He told me to fuck off–he’s got it covered.
“We’re keeping the DEA out of the loop until we know who we can trust. Instead, I called Keon. He’s stuck in D.C. but contacted the local office and told them to help us however they could. Unfortunately, it means Frank Stonewall is here, and he ain't happy about it.”
The local FBI Special Agent in Charge had been far from thrilled with his supervisor, Trident, and Carter after he was shut out of the investigation when Carter killed the hitman targeting the team several months ago.
While the rest of the team groaned at Devon’s announcement, Carter smirked.
The last time he and Stonewall met, the SAC almost crapped his pants when the pissed-off operative lit into him.
The fed’s reaction to seeing him again should be interesting.
“Angie!” All heads turned as Kristen came running from the residence building, straight into the other woman’s arms, and held her tight. The two of them tried hard not to crumble, but they couldn’t stop the few tears that fell down both their faces.
Ian strode over and stood beside them, rubbing his hands up and down their backs in comfort.
“Kristen, why don’t you take Angie to your apartment for now, hmmm?
Too many people are in the offices, and you’ll just be in the way.
Take Beau with you, and we’ll let you know when we hear something.
” Facing Angie, he added, “We’re doing everything possible.
We’ll find her and bring her home. I promise. ”
The two women nodded, neither trusting themselves to speak at the moment.
Ian kissed them both on the head, lingering longer on Angie’s.
Then he watched as they staggered back to the apartments, arms around each other in mutual support as Beau trotted beside them.
Taking a deep breath, he focused on his now extended team and gestured for them to head into the offices.
It was time to make good on his promise.
Inside, Colleen sat at her reception desk, calling in an order for pizzas and two cases of bottled water for the men now occupying the conference room.
Devon’s office and two vacant desks in a small bullpen area behind her were also in use.
The young secretary’s eyes were red, and she’d clearly been crying earlier.
As they walked by her, she gave them a watery smile filled with trust, as if she had no doubt the Doms would do everything they could to save Jenn’s life.
Brody went straight to his war-room, unlocked it, and started booting up the computers he needed.
Curt Bannerman, their backup computer specialist on Team Four, joined him, taking a spare chair and rolling it over to assist his fellow geek.
Neil ‘Rad’ Radovsky and Steve ‘Urkel’ Romanelli gave Ian and the rest of the team lazy salutes while staying on their respective phones with their contacts, trying to find where Jenn might be being held.
Inside Devon’s office, the five men borrowed from Chase checked their weapons and waited to be called to duty.
One was on the phone and, from the sound of it, talking to his boss and checking on Doug Henderson.
Ian would have to find out about the slain bodyguard later to see what they could do to help the man’s family deal with their loss.
Earlier on the plane, Ian told Devon, who agreed, that they would take care of all costs for the funeral and burial.
If he had a wife and children, they would ensure they were well cared for.
It was the least they could do for a man who gave his life trying to protect Jenn.
The conference room was filled with three FBI agents, including a scowling Stonewall, two uniformed policemen, and two plainclothes detectives from the local P.D.
If the situation wasn’t so serious, Ian might have laughed when Stonewall paled at the sight of Carter walking into the room.
As it was, he heard Boomer chuckle behind him when the kid noticed the same thing.
Carter, in turn, gave the SAC his best Dom glare, then ignored the man and got to work, calling his own contacts.
Also present in the room were Colleen’s Dom, Reggie Helm, and Ian’s cousin, Mitch Sawyer, who shook Ian’s hand and offered them whatever help they could give. Mitch asked, “What should we do about the club? Do you want me to shut it down for the night?”
Ian glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed.
They still had about three hours before the club opened at nineteen-thirty hours.
“Yeah, the fewer people here at the compound, the better. We don’t know how long this is going to last. Whatever you do, don’t let the members know about Jenn.
Otherwise, every Dom will be showing up to help, and while I’d appreciate it, they’ll be in the way. We have enough personnel here as is.”
Mitch nodded. “I’ll send out the mass text from my office.” He turned to Tiny. “Do you mind helping me call the staff? I want to make sure everyone knows not to show, and the phones will probably start ringing off the hook when the members find out we’re closed, wanting to see what the problem is.”
Ian spoke in a low tone to Reggie so he couldn’t be overheard, “Take Colleen home with you. She doesn’t need to be here for this, and the less you know, the better. We may need you after this is all over.”
Reggie was one of Trident’s lawyers, and this was Ian’s way of keeping the man out of the loop for when the shit hit the fan.
If Reggie needed to defend them in court for any reason, like for a murder charge, it gave him plausible deniability.
When lawyers spoke to their clients accused of crimes, they rarely asked them outright if they were guilty.
They didn’t need to know to defend their clients and usually didn’t want to know.
Right after the two Doms and Tiny left with Colleen in tow, the company phone rang, and Ian picked up the line on one of the conference room phones sitting on the table.
When he heard the computer-altered voice, he rapidly waved his other hand and snapped his fingers to alert everyone in the room that the kidnappers were making contact.
Everyone stopped in mid-sentence and remained silent.
Marco ran out the door toward the war-room to tell Brody to start tracing the call as Ian hit the speaker button so they could all hear.
“. . . see her again. Tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, you’ll receive a text. Have Agent Andrews bring Angelina Beckett to the address, and we’ll release your pretty niece, although she may not be too pretty anymore if you don’t do as you’re told.”
The hair on the back of Ian’s neck tingled as his fear and anger intensified.
Leaning against his two hands on the conference table, he growled at the person on the other end of the phone.
“Listen, you fucking bastard, if you hurt one fucking hair on that girl’s head, there won’t be anywhere on this fucking earth where you can hide that I won’t find you.
And when I’m done with you, you’ll be fucking begging me to kill you to end your suffering! You hear me, you piece of shit!”
He’d been in such a blind rage and was yelling by the end of his rant that he didn’t realize the call had been disconnected until a hand gripped Ian's bicep.
“He hung up.” Devon’s voice was low, trying to calm his brother down, but it didn’t work. Ian grabbed the office phone, ripped out the cord, and threw it against the wall, where it shattered.
The flying debris didn't hurt anyone, although several men were hit. Not a word was spoken as the usually unflappable man stormed out of the room and made his way to his office, passing a stone-faced Marco. He slammed the door behind him, and they heard a roar of frustration and anguish. The men all knew the call time was far too short for a trace. They were equally frustrated because despite all the missions and cases they’d been on over the years, this time, it was personal.