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He shrugged, looking a little lost and a lot disheveled. “I went apeshit. Lost my shit. Threw some shit. Said a lot of shit I wasn’t supposed to. We had everything. The target and opportunity. All the intel was good. We had everything we needed, and we still got decimated. Our target is still out there. And my fucking partner is missing.”
“I want to find her as bad as you do.”
He shook his head, disappointed in himself. “This happened on my watch. They fucked up. And I’m wearing it.”
“I’ll find him.”
“How?”
I brushed off his question. “What can you tell us?” I asked, not caring about the aftermath of the shitshow that went down. I wanted results. I wanted action. I wanted Marisa back safe and sound.
“She was supposed to come back. She wasn’t supposed to go trotting off with those fuckwads. We got two of them. Well, Marisa did. Shot ’em in the legs so they couldn’t go anywhere.” He chuckled at that. “They’re at the hospital. The other three we got are dead.”
“What happened?”
“We caught up to them in the tunnel. One guy was gurgling on the floor. Didn’t get much outta him before he passed out. Marisa ran after Guadalupe Garcia, her CI. I’m assuming to get her and bring her back. She gave me a signal to hold off and not follow. I waited. But she didn’t come back. Then I heard an engine start, and then there was nothing. Nobody. They took her.”
“So, what’s your next move?”
“Me? I don’t have one. That’s why I’m here. We got two cops shot. Flesh wounds, they’ll be okay. But Marisa. She’s gone. I’m gonna get her back, Tyler. I promise you that. But I got no one to help me. I remember what Marisa told me about you and Cole Security Forces. Something about highly skilled crime fighters or something. Figured you might be able to help.”
My computer trilled, signaling an update. Davis and Jackson followed as I rushed over and reviewed the incoming information.
My usual work was meticulously laying out code. It didn’t matter if it was good code for a program or harmful code meant to disable one. I basically worked to create instructions for programs, telling them exactly what to do. This was what I was used to doing.
Right now, nothing I did related to programs or creating anything for computers.
I was hacking.
Into any database I could to get the information I needed.
Nothing would stop me. If I went to jail . . . Hell, even if I went to prison . . . I would do anything—legal or not—if it meant getting Marisa back.
“Do you want in?” I asked Davis, not looking up from what I was reading over.
“Hell yes.”
“What we’re doing isn’t sanctioned. Not yet anyway. And I’m not waiting for authorization.”
He nodded, understanding the implication.
“What intel do you have? Anything different from what Marisa had?”
“No,” he said.
“Take a look at what I have so far. Tell me if I’m missing anything.” I said as we sat in front of my computers to put things in motion.
Trying to outline the plan to rescue Marisa was killing me slowly. It was eating me from the inside out. All I could do during the few moments I had free was to sit and pray that rescuing Marisa was exactly what we would be doing. Hope and pray with everything inside me that this would be a rescue mission and not a recovery.
As skilled as we all were, as trained for this kind of thing as I was, a mission was very different when the target I needed to save was the woman I loved.
