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Chapter Twenty-One
Jaxson
“Morning,” Declan said as he came into my office. He perched himself at the edge of my desk. “What are you working on?”
I hadn’t so much as looked up when he’d come into the room. I let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through my hair. “Trying to get ahold of Mason. After the day we all had yesterday, I thought it would be a good idea to try the satellite phone.”
“He didn’t answer?” Declan asked, his brow tight as he stood and came around to see what I was doing on the computer.
“No, he hasn’t answered. If he’d have picked up when I called, I wouldn’t have been quite so concerned. I tried calling his uncle since I’m sure that’s where he went, but he’s not picking up either.”
“We’re talking about Uncle Jeb. That’s not a surprise. The man probably ripped out his phone line. You know how paranoid he is. You’ve met the guy.”
I slid away from my desk and stood. “True.” I strode out of the office to the hallway where the coffeepot was situated. I needed a strong cup of coffee to get me through my day. “I just have a bad feeling. Mason should have checked in with us. I’m not happy that he took Hazel and left town without saying anything to us.”
Aiden stepped into the hallway, his arms crossed as he leaned against his open door, listening and weighing in on what we said. “You could call the local sheriff’s office and have them do a wellness check.”
“That’ll go over really well, especially with Uncle Jeb,” I said.
Declan poured a cup of coffee and took it over to his desk. “I can hack into surveillance footage and see if anything looks suspicious.”
That would at least be a start. It wasn’t something that I was capable of doing. “Thank you,” I said.
Five minutes behind the computer and Declan had hacked the satellite footage and zoomed in on the farmhouse.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath as I stood over his shoulder. The exterior was in disarray. It was difficult to tell what extent of damage the farmhouse had sustained, but the structure didn’t appear stable.
“I’ll get us a ride via chopper,” Aiden said as he hurried back to his office and started making phone calls.
Our connections with local and state authorities often came in handy. We had a few friends who were federal, and while we usually helped them, this time, we were reaching out for their assistance.
I reached out to the county sheriff’s department where Mason and Uncle Jeb were located. They were sending a team to check on the situation while we arranged transportation to the scene.
* * *
Before our helicopter arrived, we received a call from the county sheriff’s office in North Dakota, informing us that EMTs were being called and they had found two bodies, Mason was alive, but his uncle hadn’t made it.
“Mason wants to talk to you,” the sheriff said. He had called using Mason’s phone and put on the video feed so that we could talk. I stepped out of the room and into my office, leaving the door open.
“It’s good to see you, Mason,” I said. He looked like hell, pale, blue-tinged lips, but he was conscious and breathing.
He tried to speak, but I couldn’t hear him. Mason was far too quiet for the phone to pick up what he said.
“I can’t hear you, buddy. It’ll be okay. Go with the EMTs and let them do their job.” I tried to assure him that everything was fine. He looked like hell. He was lucky to still be alive.
The sheriff leaned down to hear what Mason was trying to say to us. “Hazel has a tracker.”
I sipped my coffee. “Yes, that makes sense. It’s probably how they were able to find you guys.”
Mason shook his head. That wasn’t the message that he was trying to convey. He gestured the sheriff close again.
The video on the phone shifted, giving a glimpse of the blood and the damage to the property. Mason had lost a significant amount of blood, but he was breathing. His heart was beating. He was a fighter.
“Hazel has a bracelet you can track. He gave it to her to protect her,” the sheriff said. He frowned, glancing from Mason to me. “Who exactly are you guys?”
“Eagle Tactical,” I said. I’d already told his office that when I called and requested their assistance, but either he didn’t get the memo or didn’t know who we were. “Mason, we’ll get Hazel back. You let the EMTs and the doctors look after you. Get better, okay?” We’d pay him a visit when Hazel was safe and out of harm’s way.
I hung up the phone and hurried into the office with Declan.
