Page 82 of Colombian Chemistry

“There’s no time!” I snapped. “We’ve lost visual, and we have no fucking idea where she is. I need to find her. Now. Get him to safety and come back for me when you can.”

I didn’t give them a second to answer, instead spinning on my boot and bolting off the way I came.

I’m coming, Irene. Hold on, baby.

“Where was the last place you saw her, Wes?” I asked.

“Second floor, east wing, fifth door down was where he took her before I lost him.”

“Roger that,” I responded.

I moved quickly and quietly through the compound, avoiding any guards along the way. The less carnage I left in my wake, the less likely they would be able to figure out my location. I pushed against a wall when I heard footsteps and let out a slow breath after I heard them thundering past.

“Dr. Saltzman is safe,” Piper said into my earpiece. “We’re on our way back.”

“I’m on the second floor, east wing,” I responded.

“Roger that,” Knox said. “See you in a few.”

“Wes,” I whispered. “Can you hear Irene?”

“No,” he said. “I heard some feedback, though. I think they found her mic.”

“Shit,” I grumbled. “Let me know if she comes back.”

“Roger that,” he answered.

I got to the fifth door in the east wing and noticed the absence of guards. If they held Irene inside, I would expect there to be men positioned outside. Wondering if that meant they were inside awaiting me, I decided to take a look.

I backed up and entered the room next door, careful to check for anyone waiting. When I didn’t see any guards, I pressed my ear to the wall and listened.

I couldn’t make out the male voices, but I heard a squeal that belonged to Irene. There were at least three men inside with her.

“You’re hurting me!” she shrieked.

Thoughts of what they could be doing to her flashed through my mind, and I knew I couldn’t wait for Knox and Piper to come back me up. I hurried to the window and opened it up, then slid out along the edge. Careful steps took me along the six-inch stone ledge until I reached the window to the room.

I peered through the glass and saw Pedro holding her by her hair. His huge knife touched the hollow beneath her throat, and he dragged it down between her breasts. She struggled against him as he sliced through the top of her dress like it was warm butter. I saw her mic and earpiece crushed in the corner, and it explained why I hadn’t heard her in my ear.

“You thought you could trick me with your new look?” Pedro said. “We may not have recognized you right away, but I see who you are now. And I’m so glad you’re back, Bonita. First, I need to secure your father and take care of those pests you brought with you, but then we can have some fun together.” He dragged his tongue up the side of her face as she slammed her eyes shut.

No one touches my Irene.

I pulled out my pistol and lined myself up, making a note of the other three guards. I crashed through the window, rolling along the floor, sending bullets into every man in the room. The first one went into Pedro’s ribcage, and at the angle I hit him, it went straight through his lungs to his heart. With a grunt, he flew back onto the bed. The other three bullets landed square in the foreheads of the three startled men.

Irene screamed and jumped from Pedro’s grasp. She tripped over her feet, tumbling over the corner of the bed and disappearing behind it.

“Irene!” I called as I flipped up to standing.

My concern for Irene was so overpowering, like a fucking rookie, I took my eye off of my target. Instead of assuming Pedro was alive and keeping my gun trained on him until I could be sure he was dead, the way I always did, I started across the room toward Irene.

I had to see her. Touch her. Know she was okay. It consumed me to get her back into the safety of my arms.

She rose from the floor, her wide eyes meeting mine.

“Irene,” I breathed as I moved toward her.

But Pedro reached out, snagging her by the wrist as he sat up and yanking her into his arms. I pointed my pistol at him, prepared to put a bullet between his eyes now that I had the right angle, but I froze when I saw his knife pressing against her jugular. The absence of blood pouring out of the hole in his shirt told me what had happened. Pedro was wearing body armor.