The ear piece in my ear rings with people barking at each other. I’m not fully listening as I run to the warehouse. There are key words I latch onto.
Elena says it wasn’t the camera’s someone cut the power. She was able to get it back on. “I’m sorry Val. I can’t see her. She’s not on camera. Her tracker signal is dead.” I stop running. Coming to a dead stop in the middle of the street.
Someone needs to pay. I sprint the last half a block and enter into the chaos. Irish and Russian men are scrambling to contain the last few men. I jump into the fray. Swing my arms like wrecking balls and taking out men left and right. One guy pulls a gun on me. I get it out of his hand before he can blink. It would be too easy to shoot him. Instead I wrap my hands around his neck and lift. Squeezing and lifting, I can feel his pulse slowing. Right before it stops, I move my hands up to his chin and snap. When I release him, he falls to the ground. Never to move again.
“Val. Val can you hear me.” It’s Luca, and I don’t care. This is all his fucking fault. She’s gone because of his fucking plan.
Someone comes up to my shoulder and tries to shake me. Not caring who it is, I turn and swing. It was Killian. Good. He was also on board with this plan.
He gets back on his feet, and I ready my arm to swing again. Taking a step and throwing up his arms to block me, he says, “Luna says she’s not dead. Or at least her tracker’s not. When it’s destroyed it sends a good-bye signal. Keira’s never did. It cut off. Someone’s blocking this signal. Which means there is a good probability that they are keeping her alive.”
“You better be fucking right.”
Luna and Elena continue to hunt for clues. We aren’t sure how we missed them. We had every exit covered. Every road and alley in every direction watched. How the fuck did they slip past us?
Feeling like we’re missing something, I go searching for my own clues. There are hallways and locked doors that no ones has entered. I gather some men and tell them to begin breaking them open and searching.
We find a hidden staircase, one that goes down to a basement level where we find two dozen woman who are barely clothed, dirty, shivering, and several have glassy eyes, like they are high or were drugged. A team of our men work to get them out of their chains and brought up for medical attention.
As soon as they are able to talk, we will have Livianna speak to them, see if anyone of them know anything that could be useful to us. One of them may hold the key to finding my woman. Until then, I cannot look at my brother. Or my family. I get why they agreed to this. I get that Keira volunteered, but until she is safe in my arms, there is no calming my beast. He demands blood.
You cannot kill your brother.
You cannot kill your brother.
I continue searching the building, I find a second hidden staircase. This one leads up instead of down. I follow it to the top. To the roof. There is fresh blood smeared along the walls. Keira. She was leaving me a trail. I scan the rooftop looking for more clues. There are no stairs back down from here, it’s too high to jump.
Helicopter. They are noisy as fuck but with gunfire to mask the sound, we wouldn’t have heard it. And we didn’t set up any surveillance for the fucking sky, only the streets.
“Luna.” I say into my ear pierce.
“I’m working on finding her Val. I’ve got a signal booster code I am sending now to the NORAD satellite I hijacked.”
“NORAD?” I can’t help repeat it. This woman is fucking insane, and I couldn’t appreciate her more right now. I give my head a shake. “How long with it take?”
“About six minutes.”
“Can you check something else out while you wait?” I ask.
“Absolutely. What am I looking for?”
“See if you can find any flight plans for a helicopter in the area, or see if anyone reports seeing one. I’m on the roof. I’ve found blood. It’s the only explanation I can think of.” I’m practically begging at this point, and I don’t care.
“Got it. Some fourteen year old posted a social media video of a low flying helicopter sixteen minutes ago two blocks from your location. I’m in Chicago air traffic control and see no authorized flight plans.”
“Yes. That’s her. I know it is. Can you track it?”
“Got a car?” She asks.
I don’t respond. I run. I run so fast, I trip over my own feet a couple times. Bursting back into the main room, I spot Killian, Ivan, and Luca with Elena in a corner. I don’t stop as I shout at them to move their asses. “Luna’s found her.” I scream.
They all come running with me. We pile into our cars and follow Luna’s directions. She leads us to the shipyard. Beside me Killian growls. “He’s got her on his fucking yacht.”
“I thought that thing went up in flames?” Replies Grady as we commandeer two boats.
“It did. Sank to the bottom of the lake. He bought a new one last week through a shell company. Don’t worry I’m draining those account now. He’ll be broke in a matter of minutes.” Claims Luna through our headset. “Satellite confirms, she’s about three miles Northwest of our location. Looks like the chopper is taking off again. She’s not on it.”