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Cal took it, immediately flicking it on, staring hard at the digital screen. Alex came over, looking over his shoulder.
Joe pulled his wife back into his arms, holding her because she was crying softly, her hands pressed to her face.
“Sonofabitch,” Cal breathed, holding one photo up of the three men advancing upon Sky and Abby. He held it steady so Alex could look at it. “Recognize any of those bastards?”
Alex’s face went hard. “Yes.” He pointed to the bald man in the center. “That’s Pyotr. The bald one.” Swearing, Alex shook his head. “You are right, Cal. This is Yerik Alexandrov’s work. Pyotr is his main soldier who does his dirty work,” and he gave him an apologetic look. “I am so sorry, my friend…”
“Don’t be fuckin’ sorry,” Cal snarled, quickly flicking through the photos, looking for more information. “Tell me where they’re taking Sky.” He saw the seaplane, enlarged it, making the numbers readable on the fuselage. Holding it up, he asked, “Do you recognize this plane?”
Alex frowned and studied it. “Alexandrov has a fleet of sea planes on both coasts of the U.S. as well as in the Gulf of Mexico. It is how he transfers cocaine and fentanyl from Central and South America to North American shores,” he told him grimly. “I was never part of those operations. The plane does not look familiar to me, but that means nothing.”
Joe called, “Let’s get Butch on this. Run those numbers on its fuselage. Maybe it will turn up the owner.”
Cal looked over the camera at the former SEAL. “More than likely, the numbers are painted on and changed all the time to confuse American officials.”
Nodding, Joe grimly agreed. “Make a call to Butch? We’re going to need him on this if we’re going to find her in time.”
Cal’s heart squeezed violently in his chest. He nodded, mouth thinned. Alex left his side and knelt by Abby. He gently picked up her wrist, fingers against her pulse.
“You are doing fine,” Alex soothed, patting her shoulder awkwardly. He looked over at Joe, who still had worry in his eyes. “She is going to be all right,” he reassured the ex-SEAL. “Just keep her drinking water when she wants, and when we get her back to the condo, she will want to lay down and sleep.”
“Sleep sounds good,” Abby agreed wearily, reaching out, sliding her fingers into Alex’s hand. “Thanks… we owe you…”
Alex shrugged, gently squeezed her fingers and then rose to his full height. “I am nearby at the Del. If you or Joe need me tonight, even if it’s midnight or early morning, you call me and I will come with my ruck. I am a very good medic. I know how to treat drug reactions.”
Joe gave the Ukrainian a silent look of thanks. Alex nodded and turned away, placing the medical items back into this ruck laying on the blanket.
“Ready to be carried?” Joe asked his wife with a slight smile.
“Oh, I can walk,” Abby protested weakly.
“We need to get back to Coronado as soon as we can,” Cal told her.
“You’re right,” Abby whispered. “Okay, carry me, Joe?”
“In a heartbeat, Baby,” and he slowly released her and slipped his arms around her, easily bringing her into his arms as he stood.
Cal’s cell phone rang. He answered it. Butch was on the other end. As Alex gathered up the blanket and picnic basket, Cal listened intently to the Master Chief. When he hung up, they were ready to roll. As Cal broke into a trot, heading toward the tidal pool area, he said, “Butch said he’ll get those photos as soon as we get back to him. He’s already making calls to his contacts at all the intelligence agencies in North, Central, and South America.”
Alex trotted easily at his side with his eighty-pound ruck he carried on his back. “What does that mean?”
“Butch is going to be calling in favors from every U.S. government bureau we’ve got NSA, CIA, FBI, ATF, DEA, SOCOM, everyone. He’s going to find something out about Alexandrov, where he lives, where the bastard hides, and he’ll find out where Sky’s been taken. And then, he’ll spread out to Central and South American contacts in governments who work with us.”Sooner rather than later, Cal prayed, because Sky’s life hung in the balance. He tried to stop his mind from going to the dark places he knew about. Being in black ops, Cal knew the terrible torture techniques utilized. He wanted to cry as he jogged. He didn’t feel the heat of the sun, hear the cries of the gulls floating overhead, or smell the tang of salt in the air. His heart felt as if it had been shredded, torn and bleeding, making a cavity in his chest that ached so much it felt like he was in the middle of a heart attack.
Alex gripped his shoulder for a moment. “My friend,” he said as he jogged by Cal’s side, “Sky is a brave, resourceful woman. You must have faith that she will survive this. She was in the military. She was in black ops. You MUST have faith that she will do whatever she needs to do to escape,” and he gave Cal a hard look, his face tight, his voice fierce with passion.
Cal nodded. When Alex released his shoulder, he felt his chest tighten. He needed to scream out his fury, his terror. Somewhere… anywhere… But Alex was right. He couldn’t forget that Sky had gone through SERE, Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape training. She knew torture methods. She knew what to expect when captured, and that often made the difference. Above all, Sky was mentally tough. And that’s what Cal had to rely on, her internal strength that she had been forced to develop since early childhood. In a sick kind of way, the horrors of her childhood that had cultivated that inner strength in her could possibly save her life now. Wiping his eyes with a swipe of his hand, he felt the fist of grief jam into his throat. He was grateful that Alex remained at his side.
The Ukrainian medic would become an important part in the planning that would start the moment they walked into ST3 HQ at Coronado. Alex knew Russian mafia techniques. He knew how the men worked under Alexandrov’s direction. Any information he could give them might yield out where they were taking Sky.
“Alex?”
“Yes?” he asked, looking at Cal.
“Why did Alexandrov kidnap Sky? Why would’t he just put a bullet in her head?” Cal gave him a look that told the Ukrainian to tell him the truth, no matter whether he wanted to hear it or not. They approached the tidal pools and slowed to a walk, carefully making their way across the rocks.
Alex became grim. He hesitated.
“Dammit,” Cal snarled, “tell me what you know!”
