Page 47 of Redeeming Violet

When I woke up this morning Violet was safely tucked against my side. She was so exhausted from last night’s activities she didn’t even stir when I kissed her forehead goodbye. Now fifteen goddamn hours later she’d been taken from the one place I promised her she’d be safe.

“Nightstalker.”

“Status?” I asked.

“Five by five.”

Thank fuck Jasmin was safe but my blood was boiling. How could this have happened.

“How the fuck did they get in?”

“They didn’t. She walked out with her goddamned hands in the air and surrendered. Last footage is of her getting in a helicopter traveling east.”

“Where the fuck was Nightstalker?”

“Loose Lips locked her in the closet.”

I was going to tan Violet’s ass for that stunt. As soon as I found her I was going to bend her over my knee and… do nothing. Because God knows what those animals will have done to her.

“Tex thinks he’s got a lock on a location where the exchange is supposed to take place. I’ve called in a marker. All she has to do is hold tight until the Calvary gets there.”

“Hold tight? You know as well as I do, there will be no holding tight,” I growled.

“Get your ass in check, Blue. That’s not a request. If you lose your shit you’re no good to her. If we don’t get there in time…”

“I will kill every motherfucker who touched her.” I cut him off.

“And after that, she’ll need you. Keep your shit wired tight.”

That was easy for him to say. The woman he cared for wasn’t in the hands of a lunatic who was planning on selling her.

“Tex is following up on a lead and getting his man in place. Use Declan to scout out any known locations Ortega uses. No sense in you coming back here if they’re headed your way.”

“The mission?” I asked, needing clarification.

“It’s been approved. Extreme prejudice,” he answered.

“Out.”

Zane had given me the confirmation I needed that this was a fully sanctioned op by the government and deadly force had been approved. Not that it would’ve stopped me, but my plan of action would’ve been different. There was no way I would’ve allowed Declan and Eric to follow me down a path that would’ve been considered criminal. The government tends to frown upon killing sprees in foreign countries, even by the very men they hire to do just that.

I briefed Eric and Declan and after more than a few colorful expletives, Declan got himself under control. Much like me, he was hanging on by a thread. We all knew how this worked. We had less than twenty-four hours to find Violet or she’d be lost in the underground world of trafficking. It could take years before she’d resurface again. If she ever did.

Working against a clock lit a fire under a man’s ass. Not wasting any time, Declan had taken us to two of Ortega’s known hideouts and both were empty.

“Goddamn it,” he shouted in frustration.

“Forget Violet,” Eric said and both Declan and I turned to him. He held his hands up before either of us could speak. “Christ. Think. Both of you step away from thoughts of her. This is not personal. A simple hostage rescue.”

That was easier said than done. I couldn’t separate the two. The longer she was gone, the more my mind conjured up images of my beautiful girl being violated and touched.

“Blue!” I startled at Eric saying my name. “Think, brother. Simple and stupid. No different than the hundreds of other missions. First step of the kill chain, we need to track. Two places were a bust. Where to next?”

“He’s been staying on the coast, near the waterways. Easy in and out for him by boat,” Declan said. “Less heat there from the locals.”

If one has never been through the favelas of Rio de Janeiro, it is an unimaginable sight to see, the hodgepodge of what could loosely be called buildings as far as the eye could see. Roughly six million people packed into one thousand shanty-towns that were no more than the worst shit-hole slums you could ever imagine. The smell was horrific, the crime was astronomical, and a woman’s survival rate on these streets was nil. They were inundated with prostitution, drugs, and housed the world’s largest sex trade. A person could buy whatever they wanted. The thought made me want to throw up.

Three large white men walking the streets didn’t go unnoticed and we hoped it wouldn’t. The men gave us sidelong glances but so far had kept their distance. Old Brazilian women tried to push whatever goods they could our way, hoping to make a few American cents.