A door swung open to reveal Ike, looking haggard and defeated, his expression darkening further at the sight of Lachlan. He stood in the doorway of the room where Paloma had been staying, his hand still on the knob, knuckles stretched with tension.
"Ike?" Dread pooled in his gut. "Where's Paloma? Where’s my little girl?”
“Wesley Thomas took her.” Ike said. “She’s gone.”
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 bringingtheir 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 deservedadditional 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?”
