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SIX
Everyone should liveby the motto “Don’t do stupid things, don’t go to stupid places, and don’t hang around with stupid people.” But, unfortunately, far too many people didn’t. Most of the time, it wasn’t the end of the world. Occasionally, though, people found themselves in dangerous and sometimes deadly situations because they did one or all three of those things.
That had indeed been the case for Isla Doyle, the daughter of Elijah Doyle. An entrepreneur involved in everything from electric cars to technology for the military, no matter what the guy touched, it turned into money. And he had the private jet, expensive cars, and estates around the world to prove it.
Keith didn’t blame the twenty-one-year-old college student for going barhopping with her friends. He’d done it in college, and he’d bet his savings account most people had at least once. But he’d never allowed himself to get so drunk he couldn’t stand on his own. More importantly, he’d never left a bar with people he didn’t know.
According to the surveillance videos Elite Force got from the bar and neighboring establishments, Isla had done both things on Saturday night. And although she’d arrived with friends that night, none had tried to stop her from leaving. With friends like that, who needed enemies?
Even worse, her roommate hadn’t bothered to report her missing when Sunday night rolled around and Isla still hadn’t returned to the apartment they shared, so no one even knew the young woman was in trouble.
Instead, Elijah Doyle received a phone call from the kidnappers Monday morning informing him they had his daughter and what they wanted from him. Anyone else would have immediately called the local police. Not Doyle. He’d called Eric Coleman, Elite Force Security’s director and a longtime friend.
Within an hour of the call, Keith, along with five other members of HRT and two who he considered magicians from the cyber division, boarded one of Elite Force’s company jets and headed for Miami. Honestly, the men and women who worked in the cyber division amazed him with the information they could get their hands on and how quickly they could do it.
Late Monday night, thanks in no small part to the cyber division’s intel, the team located Isla holed up in a house with the two men the surveillance cameras had captured her leaving the bar with, as well as a third man—a campus police officer who, it turned out, had been following Isla’s movements since the start of the fall semester.
This morning before sunrise, Keith led the team, backed up by local LEOs, into the house. They wouldn’t involve outside agencies if it were up to him, but Coleman insisted on bringing them in. According to him, if Elite Force involved them, it allowed the firm to stay on their good side and, more importantly, know what they were up to. Nothing could fuck up a rescue mission worse than a local cop walking into a place he or she didn’t belong.
Thankfully, the rescue went as planned, and the only people who suffered any injuries were the three kidnappers. He wasn’t a medical expert, but what those two guys from the surveillance video received hadn’t looked life-threatening. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same about the third guy. Judging by the amount of blood he’d lost, it didn’t look good for him. More importantly, though, while Isla had been upset—who wouldn’t be?—she had not been physically harmed. Unfortunately, all too often, that wasn’t the case.
The team packed up and headed home as soon as the police took possession of the crime scene, and Keith escorted Isla to her father and a medical team who’d been waiting at a nearby safe location.
Two hours after landing, they remained in the team conference room, giving Ax a post-mission report.
“Does anyone have anything to add?” Ax asked from his usual spot at the conference table.
As mission leader, Keith had already given Ax a verbal report, and tomorrow, he’d do up an official written version. But Ax never relied on one person’s recounting of events. Not because he didn’t trust every member of the team, but because he knew firsthand that no one person saw everything during a mission. Throw some adrenaline into the mix, and you never know how complete a person’s memory might be of an event.
The phone on the table rang before anyone responded. For all the technology Elite Force possessed, it still used old-fashioned office phones inside the building.
Ax’s expression never changed as he listened to the caller. “You too,” Ax said before hanging up the phone and clasping his hands together. “Coleman got an update from Miami PD. Gallagher made it through surgery and is in the ICU.”
It always amazed Keith what doctors could do. He hadn’t expected Ty Gallagher, the campus police officer, to even survive the trip to the hospital, never mind make it through surgery.
Not one to waste time, Ax went back to where they’d been before the interruption. “Unless one of you has something to add, we’re done here.” Then, when no one spoke up, he pushed back his chair. “See you all tomorrow.”
“I have never seen Ax leave that fast,” Matt said after their boss left the room.
The guy usually stuck around and bullshitted with them after debriefs and meetings. And although technically HRT’s boss, it wasn’t uncommon for him to attend any cookouts and poker games the team members hosted.
“Date?” Alexandra, or Alex as everyone called her, asked.
“If he has one, it’s about time,” Connor replied, coming to his feet.
Keith agreed. Nine months ago, Ax’s long-term girlfriend called it quits when she relocated to Seattle, and Ax refused to go with her. As far as any of them knew, the guy hadn’t gone out with anyone since then.
A knowing grin spread across Spike’s face. “Looks like Ax isn’t the only one in a rush tonight. Becca must be home.”
“She got back this morning,” Connor answered.
Keith wouldn’t be sitting around here either if Maddie was home instead of in New York again with the countess and her granddaughter. Over the weekend, the two women had accepted an invitation to an art exhibit by a world-famous artist. Exactly why the chick was so famous, Keith had no idea because, to him, the paintings resembled something done by a three-year-old. Yet people paid millions of dollars for the woman’s work. So Monday afternoon, they’d flown to New York City. While there, Violet insisted they see a Broadway show that had opened the previous week before returning to DC the next day.
“Surprised you’re not already in the parking lot, Salty. Is Kenzie working late tonight?” Matt asked.
Nodding, Salty stood but didn’t walk toward the door. “Yeah, she swapped shifts with someone who needed the night off. But by the time I pick up some takeout, she should be home.”
Although something he did a lot, Keith didn’t feel like grabbing takeout and eating it alone in his apartment. “Does anyone want to head to Murphy’s?”
