30. Mason
Mason
The small private airfield outside Seattle feels too quiet under the early morning sky.
The runway lights still glow faintly against the fading darkness, casting long shadows across the wet tarmac.
The air’s damp and cold, carrying the sharp scent of jet fuel.
My boots crunch on the gravel as I pace near the truck, every step heavy with the weight of what just happened.
Riley’s fucking gone. Taken by men I don’t trust. And every second that passes feels like another nail in the coffin of my control.
Kane stands a few feet away, arms crossed, his face grim in the dim light.
He hasn’t said much since we left the motel, but I can feel his tension matching mine.
The satellite phone in my pocket feels like a lead weight.
I keep checking it, waiting for any update, any sign that she’s okay.
My mind keeps replaying the last moment I saw her, the way she reached for me as they dragged her away, her eyes wide and terrified.
The memory burns like acid. I should’ve fought harder.
I should’ve kept her with me no matter what the orders said.
Headlights cut through the darkness as another plane touches down on the short runway.
The engines whine as it slows and taxis toward us.
Finally. The US Marshals. Jax, Colt, Ryker, and Brock.
My brothers. The rest of the team. The only men I would trust with my life. And right now, with Riley’s life.
The plane door opens and they step out one by one, duffel bags slung over their shoulders, tactical gear already half on.
Jax leads the way, his face set in that focused expression I know too well.
Colt follows, eyes scanning the airfield like he expects trouble.
Ryker and Brock bring up the rear, both of them moving with the quiet efficiency that comes from years of working together in the worst situations imaginable.
They reach us quickly, boots thudding on the tarmac. Jax claps me on the shoulder, his grip firm. “We came as fast as we could.”
I don’t waste time. “Thank you. We need to find her. They couldn’t have gotten far. Any word on Stevens?”
Colt drops his bag with a heavy thud, his jaw tight. “Stevens’s been acting shady for weeks. Little inconsistencies in his stories. Timing that didn’t add up. I put a tracker on him. It may not lead anywhere because he may have found it, but it’s worth checking.”
Ryker nods, already pulling out a tablet from his bag. The screen glows blue in the dim light, casting sharp shadows across his face. “Let me pull it up.”
We gather around the tablet as Ryker taps the screen.
The map loads, a small red dot blinking steadily in downtown Seattle.
The location is unmistakable. A bar. One known to be owned by the Moretti family.
The silence that follows is heavy, broken only by the distant hum of the plane engines winding down.
I feel the rage rise up hot and fast, burning through my veins like wildfire. “Motherfucker sold us out,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. “That son of a bitch handed her over to them. To the same people who’ve been hunting her.”
Brock curses under his breath, his fists clenching at his sides. “I knew something was off with him. The way he pushed for the quick move. The way he kept us in the dark. He played us.”
Kane steps closer, his face hard. “We need to mobilize. Now. Gear up. We’re not waiting for backup. Riley’s in there with them. We go in and we get her out.”
Jax looks at each of us, his eyes steady. “We’ve done this before. Together. No one gets left behind. Especially not her. Mason, you lead point. You know her best. We trust you.”
The words hit me hard. These men are my brothers. We’ve bled together, fought together, buried friends together. There’s no hesitation in their eyes. No doubt. Just complete trust. The kind of brotherhood that comes from years of putting your life in each other’s hands.
I nod once, the decision made. “We gear up. Tactical. Full kit. We hit the bar hard and fast. Riley’s priority one. We get her out alive. Anyone who stands in our way goes down.”
We move to the back of the truck, pulling out the tactical bags we always keep ready.
The sound of zippers and velcro fills the air as we suit up.
I strap on my vest, the weight familiar and comforting.
The cold metal of my rifle feels solid in my hands as I check the magazine.
Brock hands me extra ammo, his movements quick and precise.
Ryker checks comms, testing the earpieces with a low murmur.
Colt loads his sidearm, the slide racking with a sharp click.
Jax stands watch, eyes scanning the perimeter.
“Remember that op in Bogotá?” Jax says as he adjusts his vest, a faint grin breaking through the tension. “When Mason carried Ryker out on his back after that ambush? I thought we were all dead. Then this bastard just grunted and said, ‘Not today.’ Still the craziest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”
Ryker chuckles, slapping a magazine into his rifle. “Yeah, and then Brock here started singing that stupid song to keep us moving. Worst voice I’ve ever heard. But it worked. We made it out.”
Brock grins, checking his own gear. “What can I say? Music soothes the savage beast. Even when the beast is a bunch of bleeding marshals running from cartel gunmen.”
I feel a small, grim smile tug at my mouth despite everything.
These men. My brothers. They’ve got my back no matter what.
And right now, they’re ready to walk into hell with me to get Riley back.
The trust between us is ironclad. We’ve seen each other at our worst and still chosen to stand together. That kind of bond doesn’t break.
We finish gearing up quickly, the familiar weight of vests, rifles, and sidearms settling into place.
The cold morning air bites at my exposed skin, but the adrenaline keeps me warm.
I can feel the determination in the air, thick and shared.
We’re not just doing a job. We’re going after one of our own.
Kane claps me on the shoulder as we load into the vehicles. “We get her back, brother. No matter what it takes.”
I nod, my voice steady. “No matter what it takes.”
The trucks roar to life, engines growling as we pull out of the airfield. The road stretches ahead into the city, lights glowing in the distance. Riley’s out there. Scared. Alone. With men who want her dead. But I’m coming for her. And I’m not coming alone.
My brothers are with me. And together, we’ll bring her home.