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“We’re all going,” Nicole said. “Jason is sheriff. I’m the deputy. Case closed. How do we proceed?”

Dylan liked the deputy’s moxie. And she’d made it clear to him, back when the Russians were after her, that she was good with her gun. Very good.

He studied the rest of the team.

In a flash, he had the mission devised in his head. “Scott and Eric need to stay here in case the transfer has to go through.”

“We’re on the job,” Scott answered.

Dylan knew the Knight brothers would gladly pay the ransom to get Erica back, but he hated that the bastard kidnappers would get all that money. “My associates at the Federal Reserve are ready on their end to track the funds.”

“I’ll talk to my contacts to see what we can do,” Eric said.

Reed put his arm around Nicole. “Hopefully, we’ll find Erica before you have to make the transfer.”

This has to work. He continued giving the orders. “Matt will be the lead for the Casper operation. Reed and Nicole will be on that team. Sean will lead the team to Vernal. That’ll be Sawyer and Jason. Cam, you’re with me. We’ll head to Denver.” His brother was as good a shot as any agent he’d ever known. “Keep your heads clear. We’ll stay in touch via cell. Eric and Scott will act as our command base. Everyone understand what your roles are?”

“We got it,” Cam answered, heading out the door.

“Let’s go,” he said to the others before following his brother.

* * * *

12:01 a.m., Saturday – an empty warehouse in Denver, Colorado

Erica’s muscles ached from being tied up in the trunk of the car for so long and to the chair, but she wasn’t about to complain to her abductors. God, how long had it been since they brought her here? The sun had been high in the sky when they took her into this place. It had been down for several hours. It must be getting really late.

The day was almost over—a day that had been a complete nightmare. What would tomorrow bring? Would she survive?

By now, everyone in Destiny had to know she was missing. Were they trying to find her? She was sure they must be. But what chance would they have in finding her? No one had seen her this morning. There were no clues for them to follow. She was completely freaked out, but who wouldn’t be? Her abductors hadn’t touched her. Did that mean they needed her for some other reason? A ransom perhaps? Bribery? She wasn’t sure, but she knew if anyone could find her, it would be Dylan and Cam Strange. The two men, though different in so many ways, had unique skills to uncover the truth. Please, God, let them find me.

Her captors reminded her of serial killers from horror flicks—Norman Bates and Freddy Krueger. Vlad and Karl. To keep her mind from slipping into despair, she’d silently named the pair “Humpty” and “Dumpty.”

Humpty was the one with all the tats. Dumpty had that terrifying scar on his face. Since Dumpty had left over an hour ago to get food, Humpty had been staring at her the whole time, which was creeping her out. They’d brought her into this empty warehouse and tied her to a chair.

Humpty stood. “Got to drain the main vein, babe. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.” He laughed before exiting.

Now’s your chance. She tried to work her ankles and wrists free, but the ropes wouldn’t budge. In the movies, people were tied up close to a pole or wall with a jagged edge or nail. She didn’t catch that break. The two Russians had placed the chair in the middle of the space. No wall. No pole. Nothing to help her get the ropes off.

Was anyone coming for her? They just had to be. At least trying to find her. Please God, help them. Help me.

Dumpty came in through the door, his arms loaded with two pizza boxes and a bottle of vodka. “I bet you’re hungry, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

She didn’t answer. The look in his eyes reminded her of how Felix had looked that day back in the TBK Tower. Crazed. Got to tread carefully.

Humpty came back from the bathroom. “I’m fucking starving. I hope you got triple meat.”

His comrade nodded. “You know what would go better with dinner?” More Norman Bates than Dumpty at the moment, his lusty gaze landed on her like a branding iron.

“We’re not supposed to touch her, Vlad,” Karl said without much conviction in his voice.

It still gave her hope. Someone else was pulling the strings. They had a boss to answer to. But whoever was in charge wasn’t here. She wasn’t sure these two would follow orders to the letter anyway.

“Guys, I wouldn’t mind some pizza,” she said, hoping to pull them out of their wicked ideas for her.

“We deserve this, Karl.” Vlad set the boxes of pizza down and walked over to her with the vodka. “Better prime the pump.”

Karl smiled. God, I wished I’d thought of something else to call him. “I suppose we do deserve a little fun on this job.”

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