34. Jack
34
JACK
A fter dropping Reese off with a sweet-looking Chelsea and confirming that she’ll be able to keep the girl for an extended period due to a family emergency, I rush back to help the guys in their search.
Finding the plane gone is like getting a one-two punch to the gut. I swear I can’t breathe for a full two minutes.
The boss grips my shoulder when I sit behind Sloane’s computer. Hastings is furiously searching through Kingswell’s because his car is still in the parking lot, and he’s gone as well. If that little fucker had a hand in Sloane’s kidnapping, I will beat him down and make him live through every second of pain she’s enduring.
I will make that punk pay.
Another squeeze of my shoulder has me coming out of my rage and focusing on locating Sloane.
Picking up my phone, I start making calls. My contacts list is expansive, and I don’t care if I have to owe a favor to every person and their agencies on it. I will find her.
My first call is to the FAA. If they have any radar records of the illegal takeoff from the stolen plane, it can point us in the right direction. But the trackers on that plane have been disabled, their flight under the radar detection.
Boone huffs into the office minutes after I hang up with the FAA. His face is red as he stomps by, nods at Cole, and shoves into his office.
“Let me talk to him.” The man’s gruff voice tempers my anger enough to focus again. “You put SECNAV on the phone, or I’ll march down there and make your life hell. Do you hear me?”
The boom of his voice makes me turn back to my contacts. The more eyes we get looking for her, the faster we’ll find her.
I hit up two air traffic controllers I know on the east and west coasts. They’ll keep an eye out for the missing plane.
The more people I talk to, the more frustrated I feel. We’ve found nothing. No phone to track, no traces of the plane, no movement among our usual surveillance.
I pace as I talk, walking into the warehouse to scream and punch a crate.
The boss ventures out to watch me, his arms crossed. It takes too long to calm my breath and meet his gaze.
“We’ll find her.” His no-nonsense tone has me pulling myself back together. “But not like this.”
Personal feelings get in the way of our job. I’ve trained myself not to get involved.
I’m crawling out of my damn skin, and it’s not helping Sloane at all.
“You done?” Cole’s measured gaze has me buckling in. I’m not. I need to get my hands on someone, and it’s not going to happen if I don’t get it together. So, I do.
“Not by a long shot.” I growl out the words.
“Then, come on.”
The phone calls, the data, it all blurs together until Hastings stands up, a phone to his ear. “Thank you, sir. Yes, I will. You, too.”
I’m on my feet, too, heart banging as adrenaline floods me.
“The plane’s been spotted over California, headed toward Catalina Island.”
One of the places we’ve suspected of being used as an illegal transportation hub but couldn’t prove, couldn’t find a legal reason to infiltrate.
Legal or not, we have a reason now. And I certainly won’t wait for the red tape to clear to go get her.
Cole is on the phone with one of our pilots, and Boone walks out, part relieved and part disgruntled.
“What do you need?”
“Gear,” I said.
He nods and waves me toward the warehouse. We go past the caged off weapons and secure ammo to a padlocked door that Sloane never ventured toward. I should have noticed it before.
Boone punches in a code and pushes open a steel door for me to walk through.
I laugh incredulously. Everything we could need is stowed away here.
“For emergencies.”
“Good thing Kingswell and his goons didn’t know about this.”
Boone’s frown deepens, the red returning to his neck and cheeks. “He’s a good kid. Someone has to be pulling his strings.”
“That may be, but it doesn’t excuse treason.”
The despair on his face has me patting his shoulder. “I’ll try to reserve judgment until we uncover the complete truth, but…” I take a deep breath and meet his eyes. “Sloane.”
“Yeah. Grab what you need, mark it down, and go get her back. Them both, if you can.”
Right. Both. I have to stop thinking like an enraged boyfriend and start thinking like a SEAL.
Shaking myself mentally, I swing my attention back to packing gear for climbing, the water, lightweight armor, camouflage, nav and comms, a fucking small thermal camera…
Why is all of this here? Did Boone get approval for this?
I rub my forehead. He’s an old friend of the boss’s, which means he’s a former SEAL. That’s why he has all of this. It has to be.
Laughing, I pack a little bit of everything.
Part of me wants Boone as backup, but the three of us have always worked best alone. Knowing that he’ll know what to do if we run into trouble gives me enough peace to think through the possibilities we’ll find when we get there based on what we’ve learned so far.
By the time I rejoin the guys in the office, we all seem to have pieces figured out. Our plan fills out as we make for the plane waiting for us.
Step one, meet a boat in San Pedro to hitch a quick ride to the island, small enough to avoid where we predict the underground entrance is to hide from their notice.
We spend the flight going over maps and satellite photos. There are few places to hide on the island, and as we narrow down our options, the impossibility of simply breaching to take her back becomes clear.
Then, I gear up.
When we reach the island, I’m hiking down the coast to where we predict the cave opens for a full view of the Pacific Ocean. It’s my way in.
We’re eighty percent sure she’s being kept near the opening. Alone.
Cole and Hastings keep hidden inland, watching the other entrance.
Backing myself over the cliff’s edge, I find my grip holds. I’m seventy percent sure they’ll spot me before I’m in. That’s fine.
My job is to find Sloane. They’ll expect me to be a typical American cowboy, and we can predict their tactics better that way. It taps into what I’m feeling. I’ll break necks until I’ve got her secured again.
My anger makes me want to rush the climb, but I keep myself steady. I’m afraid of what state I’m going to find Sloane in. If they hurt her, I’m not letting a single one of them out alive. Not even Kingswell.
What if we calculated wrong, and she’s not here? If we’ve wasted all this time and they’re carting her off somewhere else to do…
I slow my breath.
Focus on getting inside. Shut everything else out.
Once I’m around the edge of the opening, the night is dark enough not to illuminate the entrance. I wait and listen. Small movements, breathing. There are at least four of them. They’re waiting for me.
No taking them by surprise. It would have been nice, but we didn’t predict it as a real possibility.
I push off the wall and use momentum to land in the opening with one hand on the dirt covered floor. I’m greeted by four gun barrels.
Yup. That’s about what I expected.
I stare up at four locked down faces.
“Stay down, hands up behind your head.”
I comply.
One of them lowers his automatic rifle and steps forward to slide zip tie restraints around my wrists and tie them together behind my back. A second gun drops to force me to my feet.
They’re smart not to drop their aim as they guide me inside.