Chapter 25 #2
“Not directly,” Tomas replied. “I’m a contractor. Middleman. There are layers between me and the top. But it all funnels back to him. Every deal I’ve run, every courier I’ve shadowed, every dead drop—it all benefits McNabney’s network. He’s not a politician. He’s a broker of power.”
Behind him, Savannah made a sound, something between a gasp and a strangled cry. Voodoo glanced over his shoulder. Her hand was at her mouth, her eyes wide, horrified.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered.
Voodoo turned back to Tomas. “What were you doing here, in the Opera House?”
Tomas chuckled. “Tonight was a distraction. A whisper in the ear of a Chinese diplomat, a swap of encrypted drives in a camera bag. Me? I was backup. Your girl wasn’t even supposed to be part of it.
But the Senator got nervous. Thought she might start asking questions.
Thought maybe you were getting too close. ”
“He sent you to silence her?”
Tomas lifted a brow. “Let’s just say if anything happened, it’d be tragic. The world would mourn. And her grieving stepfather would spin the hell out of it.”
Voodoo’s pulse pounded in his ears. McNabney sent a man to kill her. His own stepdaughter.
He hauled Tomas off the floor and slammed him into the wall again. “You’re gonna give me names, locations, every contact you’ve ever made.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll hand you to someone who doesn’t need a reason to make you talk.”
Flint's voice came through the comm in his ear. “Mustang and his team are being diverted your way. ETA five hours. They’re coming in by way of the South Sea to the Pearl River. They’ll take the package off your hands.”
“Sanctioned?” He doubted the Chinese government would look kindly upon a SEAL team breaching their borders.
Flint scoffed. “Hardly.”
“Right.”
“Voodoo,” Haley’s voice came through. “SYBIL’s spitting out info on Tomas, what there is of it. His background is clean. Too clean. Like . . . CIA-front-company-clean.”
“I figured.”
“But there’s more. Jester dropped another file in my inbox. Didn’t even try to hide the breach. It links McNabney to a shell company that’s been moving arms through Asia and Eastern Europe. Guess who signs the end-user certificates?”
Voodoo’s gaze flicked to Savannah.
“McNabney,” he said aloud. “That bastard’s playing the world like a chessboard.”
Haley’s voice dropped. “He’s more dangerous than we thought. And Savannah? She’s not just his stepdaughter. She’s a liability.”
Voodoo looked at Tomas. At the venom in his eyes. And then at Savannah, still trembling.
“I won’t let him use her again,” he said quietly.
Tomas sneered. “Then you’d better run. Because if I don’t finish the job, someone else will.”
Hours later, after a very tense performance, Voodoo and Savannah waited in the dark by the Pearl River.
Voodoo stood with Savannah by his side, his hand gently resting at the small of her back.
Not possessive, but protective. Her presence was non-negotiable.
He wasn’t letting her out of his sight. Not after what Tomas had tried to pull and the threat that still reverberated in his mind.
She was still in her gown, but he’d wrapped his tux jacket around her shoulders, warding off the chill that was more from residual fear and stress than the night air. They’d decided to skip the reception citing illness. She hadn’t spoken since the concert ended.
Voodoo knew she was kicking herself because of her performance. It hadn’t been her greatest and he couldn’t fault her for that. This was her twelfth performance of the tour, and each one had been better than the last. She was due to have one off night.
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his side. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” Yeah, he knew what that meant. When a woman said she was fine, she was far from fine.
He kissed her hairline at her temple. “Love you.”
That, at least, made her smile. “Love you too.”
The humid night air hung thick around them as the waters of the Pearl River lapped quietly at the stone embankment just beyond the floodlights. Guangzhou’s skyline shimmered behind them, a far cry from the tense meeting unfolding in the shadows.
A pair of Zodiac boats cut across the water, silent and low, and came ashore near the service dock.
Mustang was the first to step out, the lean, commanding presence of the SEAL team leader instantly shifting the gravity of the space.
Behind him came Midas, Jag, Aleck, Pid, and Slate.
Each geared up and ready, eyes sharp, expressions grim.
Mustang met Voodoo’s gaze, then looked past him at the man zip-tied and kneeling on the concrete, blood dried to the corner of his mouth.
“This the bastard?” Mustang asked.
“Yeah,” Voodoo said. “Tomas Esposito. Crewman on Savannah’s tour. Also a contractor running backdoor ops for McNabney. Tried to reach her dressing room with intent to kill—or silence. Your pick.”
“Hell,” Mustang muttered, then signaled for Slate and Aleck to take Tomas into custody. The man didn’t resist, but his smirk stayed fixed as if he still had cards to play.
“You’re not gonna like what he knows,” Voodoo added darkly.
Mustang exhaled sharply through his nose. “Flint briefed me on the trip over. Said to tell you he’s pulling in favors. Congressional contacts. Intelligence liaisons. Even someone from Interpol.”
“Going for the kill,” Voodoo said.
“As he should,” Mustang replied.
Voodoo turned slightly, his hand still resting on Savannah’s hip. She was silent, eyes cast toward the river as if trying to find peace in its steady movement. Mustang followed his gaze.
“She okay?”
“No,” Voodoo said honestly. “But she’s strong.”
Savannah looked up at that. “I’m tired of being used,” she said quietly. “I want to help take him down.”
Mustang gave her a long look. “Then you stay close to him,” he said, nodding to Voodoo. “We’ll do the rest.”
Jag stepped up beside Mustang, holding a data stick.
“We searched Tomas’s hotel room. This was hidden in a secret pouch inside the lining of his suitcase. Haley’s already on it. There’s shipping manifests and encrypted messages tied to weapons shipments.”
Voodoo’s brows lifted. “What kind of weapons?”
“Looks like small arms, surveillance drones. She’s working through the layers. Whatever it is, it’s enough to implicate McNabney on an international level.”
Mustang nodded to Slate. “Get him on the boat. We’ll secure him at the safe house across the river until we can extradite.”
As Tomas was dragged away, he looked back, eyes locking with Savannah’s before sneering, “The daughter performs while the father profits. It’s a hell of a duet.”
Voodoo surged forward, but Mustang blocked him with a hand.
“Not worth it, brother. Let the evidence speak.”
The boats pushed off again, their wakes cutting across the black water.
Savannah exhaled, her voice low. “Do you really think this will bring him down?”
“I think,” Voodoo said, stepping closer, “it’s already begun.”
She leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the night, from the cold truth of what her family had done, and what it might cost to make it right.