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This was a well-planned snatch and grab, and I can’t help but wonder if maybe Xavier’s relatives somehow tracked Faye down. It’s possible that he told them. I didn’t get the feeling that he operated that way from our conversation though.

It almost makes sense that this is about Faye, but I know that I’m missing something… the question is, what?

I still have to call Xavier and let him know that this whole thing went terribly wrong. I do not want to end up on the wrong side of the Cerelli family. Even though Xavier is moving away from the criminal end of the family business, the man is bound to have a temper, and that could definitely mean trouble, considering that his wife went missing again on my watch. Not good.

Best case scenario, he’s willing to work with me to find them and bring them both home. He’s bound to have contacts in the city, which we will need since we are bringing this to unfamiliar territory.

I have zero doubts that finding Faye

and getting her back beside me is going to be difficult.

“Headed to another fucking desert, Trav.” Blake spits on the ground beside him. His voice vibrating with a mix of anger and disgust. “I fucking hate the desert.”

“Me too, Bro. Me too,” I tell him, standing back up to resume my agitated pacing. I may not like it, but I can’t get to it fast enough this time.

When I sit still, I start thinking about Faye and how scared I know she must be. I need to get her back. I should never have let them get to her in the first place. My fist lashes out, smashing into the side of my ruined truck. I relish the burst of pain lancing through my hand, distracting me from the memory of this morning in the shower. The silken feel of Faye’s wet skin sliding against mine.

Our guys, Mike and John, should be here before too much longer. They said we would only have to wait for them about an hour. It’s been that long, so I collect our bags and Ana's box of baby things from the toolbox, happy that I didn’t have to gather everything up off the ground. Climbing up the small incline to wait by the road, I look back. Blake is still engrossed in his computer screen, leaning against the crumpled roof.

Damn it! I really loved that truck. I’d trade it in a heartbeat to have Faye safe at home right though. I’d give anything for that.

Setting all our belongings on the ground while I wait, I refuse to believe anything other than we will find them. We have to. I won’t lose her again. I can’t.

Blake capturing images of the license plates means that he will track them like a hound dog on a scent. This kind of tracking is his specialty: using the grid that everyone takes for granted against them. I'm more of a kick in the door, blow shit up kind of guy. I don't have the patience for the kind of work he does.

At least he's as equally capable of taking down doors and fucking people up as I am. We are probably going to need to do both before this situation is resolved. I just don’t want to make an enemy of Xavier Cerelli while we do it.

When our team pulls up we are ready to roll. We stow the bags, Blake’s computer, and a small arsenal in the back of the shiny, black company SUV. Before letting us in the vehicle, our medic, John insists on checking us over before hitting the road. We are a little worse for the wear. Overall we are going to be fine, even though we will both have headaches for a while.

Blake definitely has a concussion. I do as well, thanks to the blow I took to the head. It takes several sutures to close it once it’s been cleaned, but the lidocaine John used to numb the area is still working.

It was unnecessary, but you won’t hear me complaining about it. Fortunately, neither of us is injured so bad that we can't do what needs to be done.

As much as I would like to drive and get to my girl, I know that the best thing I can do right now is get some rest and let John and his partner Mike do the driving while I let the mild pain relievers I took do their job. Having two more men on board that we can count on, especially these two salty assholes, is not a bad thing.

I just wish I could figure out who took the girls. And why.

It takes him longer than he wanted, but Blake finally gets a lock on satellite imaging that is as close to real time as we are going to get. The delay is less than half an hour, and we can work with that. The armored truck the girls are being held in has a little over an hour head start on us now, but now we know their general destination.

They are still headed right into Vegas.

By the time we get there we should know where they are. Within a block or so, anyway, and that is close enough to work with.

We are about an hour out of the city when my phone rings and Xavier Cerelli's number comes up.

I have been holding off on calling him, wanting to figure out who is responsible for the kidnapping first. So far we still haven’t been able to come up with any real motive. Other than it being someone wanting to know what Faye saw that night, nothing makes sense. Unless it wasn’t about Faye at all, and somehow she got pulled into something that was meant to target Analise… or her husband.

“Keller,” I snap, answering my phone.

“Where the fuck is my wife?” he thunders.

If I was a lesser man I would be intimidated by the power behind his words. Good thing I'm not. I still want to know how he knew to call me and ask that specific question. Summarizing the situation as succinctly as possible, I fill him in on the events of the last twenty-four hours, starting with how Faye recognized Ana and wrapping up by letting him know about the video feed we have been following.

“We aren’t too far out from Vegas,” I tell him. “Blake just needs a place to set up his equipment so we can pinpoint where they were taken.”

The growl that comes through the line echoes the boiling rage in my own gut. I know that it’s in the best interest of K&S, and myself personally, to resolve this situation as quickly as possible. This man will be a fierce enemy if this doesn’t pan out well.

“I have room for you to set up here. I have men who can help as well. You should have let me know as soon as Analise was identified,” he grumbles. He’s calmer now that we have a plan, and I don’t entirely disagree. I would feel the same if I was in his position, even though I chose to do differently.

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