Chapter 51
"Three clicks ahead," the driver announced, his voice low and graveled from years of smoking Cuban cigars.
Britt stared out at the landscape as it transformed. The convoy snaked through the unmarked roads leading to Little Turkey on the island of St. Killian. The fleet of black SUVs moved silently. Even with the windows sealed, the stench of rotting garbage permeated the air.
Hunter sat beside her in the lead vehicle, the brass compass resting in his palm. Its needle quivered with growing intensity as they approached their destination.
"Stop here," Hunter ordered as they reached the edge where jungle met wasteland. The vehicles pulled to a halt, engines quieting to a soft purr.
The team assembled—twelve men and women, each selected for their particular talents.
No uniforms or tactical gear marked them as a unit, just an assortment of dark clothing and the unmistakable bulges of concealed weapons.
These weren't soldiers. They were a motley crew of mercenaries honed by years in the trenches of Quattro's weapons trade.
As the engines quieted, Britt stepped out of the SUV, the humid night air clinging to her skin. Around her, the team emerged from their vehicles, moving with practiced stealth into the cover of the surrounding vegetation.
"Felix, you got eyes?" Hunter asked a lean man assembling what looked like a modified thermal scanner.
Felix nodded, his fingers dancing across the device. "Give me two minutes to calibrate. This garbage heap messes with the readings."
Britt watched as Hunter consulted the compass, following its needle into the dense jungle that bordered the northwestern edge of the landfill. The foliage closed around them, vines snaking across their path, the ground soft and yielding beneath their feet.
"Here," Hunter said after fifty yards of careful navigation. He pointed to a small clearing where the compass needle spun wildly. "Underground access point should be close."
Felix approached with his scanner, sweeping it across the ground. "Got heat signatures. At least four bodies, maybe six, about thirty feet down."
"The Visitor," Britt whispered, the name tasting like poison on her tongue. He had to be down there. She wanted this to end, once and for all, tonight.
"Spread out," Hunter instructed the team. "Find me the entry point."
It took less than ten minutes—a section of ground that rang hollow when tapped. The team cleared vegetation to reveal a metal hatch disguised as part of the forest floor.
“Fucking needle in a haystack,” Felix muttered. "No wonder nobody found this place."
"Mari, you're up." Hunter nodded to a stocky woman who immediately began unpacking equipment from her rucksack.
"What's the play?" Britt asked Hunter as Mari worked.
"We're placing charges around the perimeter," he explained, pointing to spots on a rough sketch of the underground facility that Felix's scanner had mapped. "When we blow it, the whole structure collapses inward. Quick and clean."
And final. No more Visitor. No more threats.
"How long?" Britt asked.
"Twenty minutes to place the charges. Another five to clear the blast radius. Then it's over,” Hunter said.
Mari approached them. "First set of charges ready. My people are working on the rest."
Hunter nodded. "Good. Let's—"
The sound of an approaching vehicle cut him off. The team instantly melted into the jungle, weapons appearing in hands as if conjured.
"Hold," Hunter said into his comm, a simple earpiece that connected the team. "Ozzy, eyes?"
“Nothing. I heard them but don’t see a damn thing,” came the response through the comm. “But we’re not alone, that’s for sure. I don’t know who these fuckers are, but we need to get rid of them—”
Britt's heart lurched. Had the Palmchat Islands military discovered their plans? Had they sent a tactical team of PISCOs to stop them from destroying this place? No, she couldn’t stand by and let The Visitor continue to use the underground facility to torture people. He had to be stopped.
“Ozzy, take three of the team and search,” Hunter commanded, then turned back to Mari. “Keep burying those explosives. No one is going to stop our plans.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, Britt paced through the tangled jungle paths, watching the team. She had to know for sure if The Visitor was down there. See him for herself before he suffered the consequences of what he’d done to her.
Hunter’s path crossed hers, his face drawn in a disturbing frown. “Ozzy, update now!”
An uneasy feeling settled within her. It had been a while since Ozzy and the others had gone to investigate the sounds. What could’ve happened to them?
Seconds later, she got her answer.
Six figures emerged in the jungle, dragging the bound and gagged Quattro mercenaries. Britt gasped as the masked figures tossed the men onto the ground in front of Hunter and the others.
Britt held her breath as the first man removed his mask.
Lachlan.
His face sent a jolt of adrenaline racing through her heart.
It took every ounce of restraint she had not to run to him, hold him, kiss him …
tell him how much she loved him. How much she would always love him.
Could she really live without this man? Was that a possibility for her with this all-consuming love for him rooted inside her?
One by one, the rest of the men revealed themselves—Sebastian, Everett, Kane, Rocco, and Adonis.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hunter yelled as the rest of her team drew their weapons. Lachlan and the Stingray team didn’t even flinch, clearly unmoved by the Quattro show of force after dismantling a third of the mercenaries.
Britt rested a hand on his forearm. “The bodyguards who protected me over the past few weeks.”
Hunter raised a hand, motioning for the other members of the Quattro team to stand down.
Lachlan walked straight toward her, stopping within inches of her. “Bodyguard? That’s all I am to you?”
She couldn’t answer. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to protect him or Paloma. Her resolve would crumble, and she’d do something stupid—like emotionally blackmail Lachlan into staying with her as she ran Quattro.
His gaze was hard as stone. Disappointment flickering in his amber gaze at her silence. The loving man replaced with the rigid, military-trained operative.
Lachlan continued, “Whatever you’re doing here, you need to stop. Now.”
“Why the fuck should we take orders from you?” Hunter demanded, but Britt silenced him with a gesture.
"What's happened?" she asked, ice forming in her veins at the look on Lachlan's face.
"Paloma is down there," Lachlan said, his voice breaking.
The world tilted beneath Britt's feet.
No. Not her. Not Paloma.
“We believe the man who held you down there for over a year is Wesley Thomas, a PISCO with a penchant for taking matters into his own hands when he doesn’t like the decisions made by leadership.
” He reached a hand toward her face, brushing away a strand that had blown into her eyes.
The first kink in his armor of anger. “He’s the guy who came to my house the night before … your men kidnapped me.”
She heard the rebuke in his tone. The betrayal.
Britt’s mind raced from the unexpected intel.
The voice. She’d remembered that voice but couldn’t place it.
Had The Visitor been that close to her, and she hadn’t known it?
Hadn’t known she’d had a chance to take him out back then.
Protect her daughter from whatever the hell he was doing to her now.
“He took her because of me,” Britt said. “To get back at me.”
Lachlan didn’t acknowledge her fears. “I have to get her. Tell your boys they can either help or get the fuck out of our way.”
Adonis approached. “And whatever the fuck y’all were planning with these TNT sticks can’t happen.”
Sebastian stepped toward Hunter. “No moves until we’ve extracted Paloma from the black site. After we’re gone, we don’t care what you do.”
Hunter turned to Britt. “It’s your call.”
Before she could answer, her phone vibrated in her pocket.
Britt frowned, lifting the device. She didn’t recognize the number, and it didn’t matter. She knew who was calling.
"Hello, Britt." The Visitor's voice slid through the speaker, as smooth and venomous as she remembered. “Who knew you’d step back into your old world so easily and still command such loyalty from the freaks in Quattro? I know you’re behind the security systems going offline.
No doubt you have something tragic planned for me.
But I thought you should know I have someone precious to you. "
Bile rose in Britt's throat as her gaze locked onto Lachlan’s. "If you've hurt her—"
"She's unharmed. For now. But that could change with the press of a button." A pause, weighted with threat.
"What do you want?" she demanded.
"What I've always wanted—evidence to take down Quattro. That's the only way you'll get your daughter back."
“I don’t believe you.” The air lodged in Britt's lungs like concrete. “If you have her, let me speak to her.” She pressed the speaker on her phone.
A muscle jumped in Lachlan's throat, his eyes darkening with fear and barely contained rage as he leaned closer, waiting for his daughter’s voice to materialize.
There was a long pause.
Britt’s heart thundered in her chest.
“Hello,” Paloma's small voice came through. A raw, maternal pain ripped through Britt's chest. Lachlan pressed his palm against his mouth, eyes closing briefly in a moment of pained relief at hearing Paloma's voice.
“Hey, Paloma,” Britt said, her voice trembling.
“Britt?” The hope in her daughter’s voice broke her heart. “Can you come get me? I’m scared.”
A strangled sound escaped Lachlan's throat, somewhere between a gasp and a sob.
His head dropped as he struggled to compose himself.
When he looked back at Britt, his expression had transformed into something primal and dangerous—a father who would tear the world apart to reach his frightened child.
“Don’t be scared,” Britt said, then motioned for Lachlan. He shook his head. He didn’t want The Visitor to know he was there. “I’m coming to get you. Do you still have the necklace your Daddy gave you?”
“Yes,” Paloma’s voice was fragile. “I’m trying to be brave, like Daddy told me.”
“Good girl. Just hang on a little longer,” Britt said.
The Visitor returned to the line. "Come inside. Alone. You know what room to come to."
She stood frozen, the phone balanced in her palm, as the full horror of the situation descended upon her. Paloma—her beautiful, innocent daughter—was in the hands of the monster who had stolen three years of her life. He would die for taking her child. She would make sure of it.
“You’re not going in there alone. I’m coming with you,” Lachlan said.
Hunter pushed a hand against Lachlan’s chest. “She’s not going in alone because I will be with her.”
Lachlan shoved his hand away. “My daughter. My rules. You’re not needed here.”
“She’s Britt’s daughter and under my protection,” Hunter insisted.
“Stop, please,” Britt said, resting a hand on Hunter’s forearm. “We do this Lachlan’s way.” A flash of gratitude crossed Lachlan’s face, replaced quickly by tactical focus. A silent understanding between them that transcended their complicated past.
Bristling, Hunter pulled back. “Fine.”
Lachlan turned to his team. “Twenty minutes. If we’re not out, extract us.”
“Got it,” Sebastian said as the others nodded.
Turning to her, Lachlan’s eyes held a mixture of determination and vulnerability that made her heart ache. "This ends tonight," he said, voice low and deadly. "All of it."