Chapter 17 #2
Ryker, Jagger’s teammates, and the members of Echo were here, and ready to do whatever it took to get Talia back. But first, they had to figure out who was behind her abduction.
“Wait, what?” Gwen’s brown eyes grew big when Ryker got to the part about Sinclair having been at the port. “One of the men we took down in Chicago used to play spy games with Agent Foster?”
Echo’s Draven Brown gave an equally disbelieving shake of his head. “No way that can be a coincidence.”
“You think this was Sanchez’s doing?” Cade looked over at the weapons specialist. “His way of getting back at those who fucked up the delivery of the weapons that night?”
“It’s too soon to be sure.” Christian chimed in with his two cents. “But it’s definitely something we need to figure out.”
Jagger sent his team leader an appreciative stare. Every man on their team knew the torture of believing their soul mates were in danger of losing their lives. At one time or another, in a bizarre twist of fate, they’d all suffered evil’s afflictions toward those who mattered most.
For Jagger, that person was Talia. The incredible woman was his absolute everything. She was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life loving.
A true partner in every sense of the word. Today. Tomorrow.
Forever.
But forever was never going to come their way if he didn’t find her before it was too late.
Jagger pulled the keys from his pocket and began marching toward the apartment’s front door.
“Hold up,” Brody’s deep voice rumbled behind him. “Where the hell are you going, now?”
“Sinclair’s apartment.” He stopped just shy of stepping outside. If he is involved in whatever this is, he’ll know where we can find Talia.”
No one hesitated or wasted time asking a single question. Jagger’s teammates, Ryker, and the members of Echo Team all immediately followed his lead.
Sinclair will tell me the truth about what he knows. One way or another.
The circumstances in which the man chose to do so would solely be up to him. Either way, easy or painfully hard, Jagger wasn’t leaving the prick’s shitty place until he had some answers.
Twenty minutes later, Jagger was pounding his fist against Sinclair’s door a second time.
“He’s probably sleeping,” Gwen whispered twenty minutes later.
Standing a few inches from Gwen, Rocky rumbled a low, “We’re sure he’s home?”
Another knock.
“He’s here.” Liam held up his tablet for the others to see. “That red dot is his cell, which is pinging from within a twenty-foot radius. And according to the Virginia DMV’s database”—he pointed to a vehicle parked a few spots down—“that piece of shit right there is his car.”
All heads turned as they followed the tech analyst’s line of sight through the dimly lit lot. Jagger lifted his hand, using more force than the times before to knock yet again.
“Fuck this.” Jagger growled when his attempts continued to go unanswered. He lifted his right foot and slammed the sole of his boot against the door just above the metal knob.
Splinters of wood exploded as the door was forced open by the blow. He and the others easily ducked their heads to avoid being struck in the face before making their way inside.
The smell was the first thing Jagger noticed as he stepped into Sinclair’s apartment. What came next was something none of them could have anticipated. He stopped cold in his tracks, his fist raised to halt the others.
Because Keith Sinclair was dead.
“Holy shit.” Cade wrinkled his nose with a grimace. “Is that…blood I’m smelling?”
A few of the others shared similar sentiments as Emmett walked over to a light switch mounted on one of the walls. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his hand, presumably to avoid leaving prints, before flipping it up and turning on the lights.
More details appeared in the illuminated space that had been nearly impossible to make out in the dark. Numerous, jagged stab wounds had been made all along the front of Keith’s torso. What used to be a white t-shirt was now soaked in dark, red blood.
“I’ll clear the other rooms,” Blake offered as he pulled the holstered pistol from his waist.
“I’ll go with you.” Brody began to follow, also armed and ready to defend.
Jagger and the others kept their holstered, staying put and surveying the room.
A quick scan of the immediate area revealed obvious signs of a struggle. An overturned lamp. Random pieces of mail splayed across the floor. Two broken glasses on the floor that appeared to have once contained something the color of tea.
But what caught Jagger’s attention the most was the four-by-six photo that had been left on the center of the dead man’s chest.
Moving in closer, he bent down, pinching the very edge of the glossy paper’s corner as he picked it up for a closer look. His heart thumped hard with a renewed dose of fear as he stared at Talia’s smiling face.
Like the picture left in her hotel room, this one showed her and her Julian Miller. It also showed Sinclair, though he was an unsmiling figure standing in the background.
Jagger’s gaze became lasered on the woman who’d been laughing when the photograph had been taken. He could almost hear her, even now, and his soul ached with the fear he’d never hear it again.
“We’re going to find her, brother.” Christian’s hand landed on Jagger’s shoulder.
The two shared a look that said they wouldn’t stop until they did.
“This had to be Sanchez.” Lucas Mercer shared his opinion next. Echo’s medic then added, “Given the timing of everything, it’s the only thing that makes any sense.”
“I don’t know.” Jagger raised the picture still clutched in his hand. “This feels pretty damn personal.”
“Maybe it’s both.” Emmett’s tall, imposing form moved forward a step. The man’s dark eyes studied the picture, and then the body on the floor, again.
Jagger’s head tilted the side as he shot the man a questioning glance and asked, “What do you mean?”
“A man like Sanchez would take an attack on his weapons and men very personally,” the man in charge of Echo Team explained. “He might even decide to go after the woman who led the attack. As a means of revenge to get back at her for taking what he saw as his.”
“But how would Sanchez even know who to go after?” Brody’s dark features appeared even deadlier when the man was pissed, like he was now.
“Maybe Sanchez has someone on the inside,” Blake Savage guessed.
“Someone like Sinclair, perhaps?” Gwen looked to her new teammate with a shrug. “That would explain why he was murdered.”
To the demolitions expert, Liam asked, “You thinking this was about tying up loose ends? Because I mean…” He motioned to the mutilated corpse. “That many stab wounds will obviously do it.”
The woman’s long ponytail bobbed with a quick nod of her head. “But even if we suspect Sanchez is the one behind this, how can we know for sure?”
“We can’t.” Jagger looked to Ryker. “But there’s someone else who might be able to.”
“You’re talking about Lopez,” the intelligent man guessed correctly.
Jagger nodded. “Talia told me some of what the guy gave Homeland in exchange for a safe life behind bars. Lopez must’ve gotten pretty damn close to Sanchez to know enough names and details to be capable of bringing down the man’s entire operation.”
To some, acting as though a dead body was as commonplace as a pile of junk mail would probably come off as crass or inhumane. But after seeing the types of things Jagger and his teammates had witnessed over the years, a scene like this wasn’t all that surprising.
“Brooks is right.” Ryker crossed his arms at his chest. “Lopez should be able to confirm Sinclair’s story. If it turns out our initial investigation into Sinclair was wrong, and he was in bed with Sanchez, then I’d say the revenge theory is probably our best bet to follow.
Rocky’s gray-blue eyes grew cold was with a matching need for retribution. “I just hope this Lopez character has an idea about where Sanchez might have taken her.”
“I need to talk to him.” Jagger faced Ryker. “I know you can set it up.”
The experienced Homeland agent met his stare, his expression unreadable despite the slight dip of his chin.
“I agree,” he said. “We clearly need to talk to Lopez again. But…I think I should be the one to do it. Aside from the fact that he’s in Homeland’s custody and you’re not an agent, you’re too close to this one to be objective. ”
Hell yes, he was close. This was the most important op of his life.
“You got something to ask me, Jason, just go ahead and ask it.”
As expected, Ryker didn’t back down. With his spine straight and his shoulders back, he asked Jagger point freaking blank, “How serious is this thing between you and Agent Foster?”
It’s serious, all right.
“I’m in love with her,” Jagger blurted without fear or a lick of embarrassment or shame. “And though the stubborn woman hasn’t come out and said it quite yet, I’m pretty sure she feels the same about me.”
If it wasn’t for the dead guy on the floor feet away from where he stood—or the fact that his entire being was wrought with fear from not knowing where Talia was—he would have laughed at the looks on all their faces.
Especially Ryker’s, who’d just closed his eyes and hung his head with a sigh.
“Ah, hell,” the man groaned. “I was afraid that was the case.”
At the same time, Cade’s widened eyes blinked with surprise. “Love? You and Foster?” Another few blinks and then, “I mean we all kinda figured out you two had hooked up, but to be in love is…” The man smiled. “You’re really that serious about her?”
Jagger looked his teammate square in the eyes and said, “As serious as I’ve ever been.”
Christian met his worried gaze. “We’ll do what’s needed to bring her back home.”
“I know you will.” Jagger’s lips curved in a small, appreciative smile.
To Ryker, he let the man know under no uncertain terms, “If you want to fire me for hookin’ up with my team’s handler, I’ll give Baxter a call and have him save me a spot in the unemployment line.
But that’s not happenin’ until we’ve found Talia.
” He stepped closer. “Please, Jason. I need access to Lopez. If Sinclair was helping Sanchez in some sort of revenge plot against Talia for what happened in Afghanistan all those years ago, Lopez may know something about it. Hell, that could exact reason the guy was demanding to see her before she was taken.”
“Or this Lopez character is in on it,” Gwen proposed. “His claims of having more information on Sanchez could’ve just been a ruse to lure her out into the night.”
Rather than look the woman’s way, Ryker held Jagger’s stare for several seconds before dropping his gaze with a muttered curse beneath his breath.
“I’ll get you in,” the other man agreed. “But don’t think I won’t be right beside you in that room.”
“The more the merrier.” Jagger took no issue with the condition. “But I’ll be the one asking the questions.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Ryker pulled his phone from his pocket and said, “I’ll make the call.” A quick look Keith Sinclair’s way, and he added a grumbled, “Make that two calls.” He sighed. “What a fucking mess this is turning out to be.”
The man was right. It was a huge fucking mess. One with the deadliest of consequences. And what terrified Jagger the most was knowing the woman he loved was at the center of it all.