Page 71 of Her Forever SEAL

He walked to the driver's side, got in, and pulled out his phone. Thirty-six hours before Drake was home. He had Sophia. Lisa was inside the Preston Fortress.

Now it was time to hunt.

22

The house was set-up exactly as he expected, lights on, Lazu peering out the big bay window, and Angie's car in the driveway at a hard angle that meant she'd parked in a hurry.

Mason pulled in behind it.

Sophia had her hand on the door handle before the truck stopped moving. He touched her arm, not to stop her, just to say I'm here in the only language either of them had right now. She looked at him. Nodded once. Then she was out of the truck and moving toward the front door with her phone already in her hand.

He followed.

Lydia met them in the entryway, the German Shepherd by her side. She looked at Mason first, assessing. Then she pulled him in for a hug, and he was grateful. Also grateful when she released him fast.

“Clint's on,” she said. She touched a finger to the headset at her ear. “He's been waiting.”

“Don't let me interrupt,” Mason said.

She looked at him for just a second, then went back down the hall toward their office.

He followed her to the doorway and stopped there.

Rylie was at the far end of the table with a laptop open and a printed diagram between them that someone had written over in three different colors of pen. She looked up when he walked in, held his gaze for a moment. “Good to have you home. We’re going to find her.” she said.

“Yes, we will.” He nodded.

“Where’s Sophia?”

He’d seen her fish her phone out of her purse as she headed to Clint and Lydia’s kitchen. “Calling Lisa.”

“Good,” Rylie nodded. “They’re all over at Beth’s.”

“I know.”

Angie was at the whiteboard. She had her back to him, her marker moving, her handwriting the same precise block print it always was, and she didn't stop writing when he came in. “Sit down, Mason. We'll catch you up.”

He didn't sit. He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed and looked at the room.

The whiteboard was dense. He worked it left to right, the operational diagram, the role designations, the timeline running along the bottom. There were photos tacked to the corner: a woman he didn't recognize, a screengrab that looked like social media, a map with a corridor marked in red.

Mary.

He knew the broad strokes from what Sophia had told him in the truck. But seeing it built out on the board, helped him settle, just a little.

He let Angie finish what she was writing and turned his gaze to Lydia who was in front of three monitors. He heard her use Clint’s name once, heard the phrase going back ten years, heard her say I know, keep going and then go quiet to hear the answer.

He stayed in the doorway.

Because it was Kayla, he wanted to jump in. Bark orders. Demand reports. Even though that went against all of his training and years of command. If you had competent people and they were in the middle of an op, you present yourself as a resource and observe. Take the time to understand things. That was how you led a team.

But this was Kayla.

He’d give it ten minutes or until they fucked up.

He watched.

Sophia came in two minutes later. She found a spot near the window, angled away from the table, and had her phone to her ear.