CHAPTER NINE
The room beneath the abandoned winery had no windows, only sweating concrete walls and a single lamp that hung over a steel desk. Kyle Lacroix stood beneath its jaundiced light with dried mud on his boots and a split across one knuckle, listening to the slow tick of a clock he could not see.
His boss sat beyond the light, where the shadows erased everything but the pale oval of his hands. One finger tapped the desktop, once, twice, then stopped. The silence that followed felt less like patience than a blade being tested.
“Say it again,” the boss said.
Kyle kept his voice level.
“We found the team at the bottom of the mountain. All four men. Their radios were smashed, their weapons were gone, and none of them could tell us where the children had been taken because they were dead.”
The tapping began again.
“And the nuns?”
“Gone with them.” Kyle tasted iron where he had bitten the inside of his cheek. “The cave was empty. Food left on the make-shift tables. Blankets missing. Tracks led down the south path and then into the trees, but the storm washed most of them away before we arrived.”
The boss leaned forward just enough for his eyes to catch the light.
“You told me one frightened girl was causing trouble.”
“Jennifer isn’t frightened and she’s not a girl.
She’s a grown woman.” The words came too quickly, too sharply.
Kyle forced his jaw loose. “And she didn’t do this alone.
Someone helped them. Someone who knew the mountain, knew our patrol routes, and knew exactly when the weather would cover an escape. ”
A pipe groaned somewhere overhead. Kyle caught the faint rumble of trucks moving along the river road, each one carrying ordinary cargo above a basement built for extraordinary cruelty.
“I did not ask for theories,” the boss said. “I asked for results.”
Kyle stepped closer to the desk.
“Give me forty-eight hours. I’ll find Jennifer, and she’ll lead me to the rest.”
The boss opened a ledger and turned one page with deliberate care. Columns of dates and numbers ran down the paper in neat black ink.
“When do the next shipments arrive?” Kyle stared at him.
“That can wait.” The boss’s hand went still.
“Nothing waits. When?”
“Thursday night,” Kyle said. “If the northern road stays open.”
“How many?”
Kyle hesitated. Figures were currency here, and a wrong figure could purchase a grave.
“Two different acquisitions. Six in the first, maybe eight in the second. The final count hasn’t been confirmed.”
“Then confirm it.” The boss closed the ledger. “The mountain operation is finished. Burn what remains, move the men, and prepare the river site before Thursday.”
“No.” The word struck the room harder than a shout. Kyle saw the guard by the door shift his weight, one hand slipping beneath his jacket.
The boss did not look at the guard.
“You misunderstand your position.”
“Jennifer made me look weak.” Kyle could feel the old humiliation reopening, hot and raw.
Her escape, the ruined cave, the scar she had left across his face years ago, each memory had become a nail driven deeper by every hour she remained free.
“If she talks, she may be able to identify routes, names, storage points. She is not a loose end. She is the rope around our necks.”
“Our necks?” The boss’s voice softened. “Do not confuse your wounded pride with my empire.”
Kyle planted both hands on the desk.
“I can bring her back.”
For the first time, the boss smiled. It was a small, bloodless curve that made the room seem colder.
“I will not risk years of work, millions in movement, and every man whose silence I own because you cannot endure being defied by one stupid female.”
Kyle straightened slowly. Beneath his anger, something more dangerous took shape. The boss believed obsession made a man careless. Kyle believed it made him patient.
“You will oversee Thursday’s arrival,” the boss continued. “You will count every person, inspect every vehicle, and report every delay. If you leave your post to chase Jennifer, I will consider you a defect in the operation.”
Kyle knew what happened to defects. He had ordered enough of them removed himself. He nodded once, lowered his gaze, and gave the boss the obedience he expected to see.
But as Kyle left the room, his fingers closed around the torn photo of the woman who had killed his friend, all of his friends, his entire brotherhood died because of her. She might be one female but he would never underestimate her again and he damn sure wouldn’t forget her name. Jennifer.
“I’m coming for you.”