Chapter 49
Lachlan stood at the window of the Stingray compound, watching the sunrise paint the tropical coastline in deceptive tranquility.
Twenty-two hours. His daughter had been missing for twenty-two hours.
Each tick of his watch felt like a physical blow.
Each moment Paloma spent in the hands of a monster who wore the same uniform he once respected was like a punch to the gut.
Behind him, the voices of his teammates—his brothers—washed over him in waves, sometimes clear, sometimes distorted by the buzzing in his ears.
They were discussing Remi. His mind flashed back to finding her unconscious at the compound mere hours after Quattro had released him, the shock of Britt refusing to return with him still fresh in his mind.
Discovering Remi drugged had quickly been eclipsed by the horror of finding Ike waiting for him, grim-faced, battered and bruised, with news that Paloma had been taken.
None of it mattered now—not Quattro's unexpected mercy, not Britt's refusal to come home, not even Remi's condition. Not while Paloma was out there somewhere.
He turned, forcing himself to focus. The conference table was surrounded by the finest men he'd ever known, each bringing their own expertise to the hunt for his daughter.
His gaze settled on Ike, standing at the head of the table, looking every bit like their leader in his rightful place on the team.
Where they all wanted him to be. The sight centered Lachlan.
Gave him something to anchor to against the roiling panic threatening to consume him.
Bobby strolled in, laptop tucked under one arm, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
"How’s Remi?" Lachlan asked.
“In and out. Doesn’t want me to leave her side, which is understandable. I can’t stay here too long.”
Everett shifted in the chair next to Lachlan.
Questions flashed in his gaze as he avoided eye contact with Bobby.
A storm brewing beneath his composed exterior, likely from anxiousness to see for himself that the woman he loved was fine.
A move he wouldn’t dare make, although Lachlan knew he wanted to.
The tension between the two men was palpable, another complication they didn't need. Not with Paloma's life at stake.
Rocco entered behind Bobby, taking a seat across from Lachlan. “The drug used on Remi was a variant of Rohypnol with some chemical alterations. I’ve stabilized her, but she needs rest.”
“I’m taking my wife to her parents’ house in St. Basil. It’s safer for her there,” Bobby said.
Everett grunted at Bobby’s use of the word “wife.”
“You got something to say, Everett?” Bobby taunted.
Lachlan’s fists clenched under the table.
Ike interrupted, “Enough! Nothing is more important than finding Paloma. Bobby, take Remi home then get your ass back here as soon as possible. The rest of us will review what we know about Wesley Thomas kidnapping Paloma.” Ike moved to the center of the room with only the slightest hitch in his stride.
Sebastian crossed his arms. "Nothing about this fits standard PISCO protocol for extraction or interrogation."
“Maybe this shit ain’t sanctioned,” Adonis said, tossing one of Paloma’s Barbie dolls in the air and catching it.
“Adonis has a point,” Ike replied. "Remember that op in Haiti? Thomas went off-plan, nearly compromised the entire mission because he decided the target deserved additional questioning.”
“In the form of his own brand of torture,” Sebastian said, nodding. “We had to threaten to tell the Commander to get him to back off.”
“He's always had his own definition of justice,” Ike said.
Lachlan leaned forward. "You think this is personal for him?"
Ike said, "The way he operated here—taking a child, using civilian facilities—it's too messy, too emotional for official channels. Plus, despite being in official PISCO uniform, he’d disabled his safeguard chip."
"How could you tell?" Everett asked.
"Missing indicator light on his comm unit," Ike explained. "Thomas removed the tracking failsafe. No PISCO would do that on an authorized operation—it's grounds for immediate termination."
"So we're dealing with a PISCO gone vigilante," Rocco summarized. “A rogue.”
"Rogue?" Kane raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "As in, unauthorized ops?”
"As in dangerous," Sebastian clarified, looking to Ike for confirmation. "The brass always denied it, but ..."
“We knew," Ike finished. "Certain operators couldn’t handle it when ops failed or got shut down by the powers that be. They wanted to see things through to the end by any means necessary. They were running their own sites. Black sites within black sites."
Lachlan felt a chill creep up his spine. During his time as a pilot, he'd heard whispers, rumors that some PISCOs took justice into their own hands. He'd dismissed them as paranoia. Now his daughter's life depended on those rumors being true.
Sebastian said, "Whatever Thomas thinks he's doing, he's convinced himself it's righteous. That makes him unpredictable and extremely dangerous."
Everett pointed to the monitors. “Look who was on point as the PISCO operative when Britt made her deal with the PIIB. He was assigned to escort her from witness protection when it was time for her to testify … but she reneged on the deal.”
Lachlan slammed his palm on the table, his vision blurring with rage. “When Britt decided not to turn on her father, you’re telling me this bastard took it personally? Went after her to what?”
“Force her to do what she said she would,” Ike said. “Help the PISCOs and the PIIB take Quattro down.”
Everett said, “Wesley Thomas was definitely in a position to pull off everything and not get caught. The car bomb, faking Britt’s death, getting her treated at the Rakestraw Blake Center—”
“Holding her captive. Keeping her from me for three fucking years. Now he has my child,” Lachlan said, his voice breaking as images of Paloma, frightened and alone, threatened to drown him in grief. “I’m going to fucking kill the bastard.”
“Alright, so we’re dealing with an anti-hero, delusional bitch who has kidnapped Lachlan’s kid,” Adonis said. “How do we find him?”
“If he's truly gone rogue, he could’ve taken Paloma anywhere,” Kane said.
“Rogue or not, he still needs resources. Facilities. Power.” Ike went to the biometric safe embedded in the wall. He turned around and held up a small brass compass. “And he’d get it from the PISCOs.”
"How does this help us find Paloma?" Lachlan asked, unable to keep the edge of desperation from his voice.
The faces around the table softened momentarily—these men, ex-operatives, undercover agents, and gang bangers, all understood what it meant to fear for a child.
They each loved Paloma like she was their own.
"All PISCO facilities use a proprietary power source with a unique electromagnetic signature," Ike explained. "This detects that signature."
"The official sites are all mapped," Sebastian added, deferring to Ike with a gesture. "But a rogue facility ..."
"Would stand out like a lighthouse on a moonless night," Ike finished.
For the first time in twenty-two hours, Lachlan felt something other than dread. His pilot's mind immediately started calculating variables—range, topography, interference patterns.
"We still need a starting point," Rocco pointed out as he bit into an apple. "The islands are too big to sweep entirely. That could take days, and we need to find her in hours.”
Adonis popped up from his chair, his eyes distant with thought. "Britt," he said finally. "She escaped from Little Turkey."
“That’s right.” Lachlan felt his heartbeat quicken. Adonis was the only native Palmchatter in the room. His network of relationships on the island rivaled the most connected politicians.
“Wesley Thomas is from St. Killian,” Adonis said. “He grew up in Little Turkey. If he was going to set up a black site, it would be right in his own backyard. Where he felt most comfortable.”
"Exactly," Ike confirmed, a spark of the old fire lighting his eyes.
"Hiding in plain sight," Everett muttered, finally breaking his silence. “Clever bastard.” His fingers flew across the keyboard. "Pulling satellite imagery now. We need to go back to where we first started.”
“The landfill,” Kane said. “How quickly can we get mobilized?”
“Thirty minutes is all we need.” Everett turned to Lachlan. “Can you get the plane ready in that time?”
“Damn straight I can,” Lachlan said, already reaching for his jacket and keys.
“I’ll go with Lachlan,” Adonis offered, which Lachlan appreciated.
"I'm coming too," Ike said, clutching the brass compass.
Sebastian shook his head, a rare moment when he contradicted his friend. "You're not back to full strength. We can’t take a chance that you’d slow us down.”
Ike visibly bristled at the rebuke and the truth.
Adonis walked to Ike, patting him on the back as he grabbed the compass. “You’ve given us everything we need, Ike. We’ll take it from here. Go back to the house before Remi or someone else sees you.”
For a moment, rebellion flashed in Ike's eyes, but then he nodded.
The old Ike would have bulldozed past their objections, would have insisted on leading from the front.
This new, more tempered version understood when to pick his battles.
Lachlan wasn't sure if that was progress or another sign of how much they'd all changed.
The room erupted into focused activity. Lachlan watched as his teammates—his family—prepared for war. They moved with the practiced efficiency of men who'd faced death together before and expected to do so again.
"You good?" Sebastian asked, appearing at Lachlan's side as he checked his sidearm.
Lachlan holstered his weapon, feeling the familiar weight settle against his ribs. "I will be. When we find her."
And when he put a bullet between Wesley Thomas’s eyes for daring to take his family from him.
"I can't lose her, Seb," he whispered, the words torn from somewhere deep and primal. The thought of his little hen with a stranger, wondering why he hadn't come for her yet. Why her daddy, who promised to always protect her, wasn't there gutted him. The thought cut deeper than any knife.
Sebastian gripped Lachlan’s shoulder hard enough to anchor him to the present as the guys surrounded him. “We won't let that happen. That's a promise."
"Thank you," Lachlan managed, his throat tight. "All of you." He looked around at the men preparing to risk their lives for his daughter, feeling simultaneously humbled and strengthened by their loyalty.
Twenty-two hours his daughter had been missing. But in the next two, she would be found. He had to believe that.
“I’m coming, hen,” Lachlan whispered as he followed Adonis to the door. “Hold on just a little bit longer. Daddy’s coming.”