Chapter 25
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“What the fuck do you mean he’s not at the house?” I hold my phone in my left hand, our call on speaker, while five Malones fly somewhere over Montana. “Where else could he be?”
“I don’t know,” Kane Bishop rumbles, his voice deep and low, dangerous and verging on pissed.
“He left his estate earlier this morning in a staff-driven black Lincoln. We figured he was on his way to one of his many offices in Manhattan, so Romeo followed the car and hasn’t blinked since.
Then a different car left the estate two hours after the first. Spence followed that one.
By the time a third rolled out an hour ago and Echo was on it, we started to wonder what was up.
We can’t confirm where Cordoza is. No one has eyes on him. ”
“The girls don’t land for a while, though, right?
” Felix walks stressed laps into the carpet, his phone clutched in his hand, though the screen remains black.
“He can be wherever he wants, because until they’re in the city, he doesn’t have to be at the house.
” Still, he shoots a fiery glare toward Stovic.
“Check in with Christabelle. Have the girls moved until this is dealt with.”
“It’s already done.” Micah drags a hand through his hair, tugging on the dark locks as he works through his frustration. “Tiia, too. I’ve got them in Manhattan under lock and key until I tell them different.”
“Cordoza’s whereabouts right now aren’t a huge deal to normies,” Jay Bishop inserts. “But guys like me? I like to know where my target is long before I have him in my scope. The fact no one has seen him in the flesh since last night is a fuckin’ concern.”
“But you just said—”
“We saw his car,” Kane declares. “We assumed he was in it, which is why we sent Romeo. Then we saw a second car… then a third.”
“So you’re telling me no one has seen this prick since yesterday?” Tim growls. “And we still put the girls on his fucking plane?”
“I’m saying we’re not in panic mode yet, but we’re observing the fuck out of this situation, and we intend to figure things out before they land. This isn’t just about your family, Malone. It’s ours too. Don’t get loud with your bullshit.”
“What about trackers?” Cato asks. “Has no one thought even once in the last seventy years to drop a microchip in Cordoza’s cereal?”
“We have trackers on the girls,” another voice rumbles through the line.
Someone I don’t recognize. Someone I don’t know.
“They’re exactly where they’re supposed to be, at the right altitude, going the correct speed.
Cordoza’s car is being tracked, too, but it’s where we already know it is.
Romeo’s watching it. It’s empty for now, which means we have nothing to listen to. ”
“Unfortunately, we can’t hear what’s happening on the plane,” Kane continues. “Soph was worried Cordoza would listen to everything they say, so she has scramblers blocking him out.”
“But it blocks us out, too?” Cato groans. “Great!”
“We stay calm,” Jay reiterates. “We check in with our men, and when that jet lands in New York, we’ll be right here watching it.”
“How fast are we going?” Cato spins toward the cockpit. “Can we go faster and land before them?”
“Don’t think that’s allowed,” Jay chuckles. “Just be cool, kid. You breathe through it, because no one hits a target from twelve hundred yards while they’re having a panic attack.”