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50
Lazarus
The jet bounced and surged, piloted by Ice, who stabbed every button and fiddled with every damn control, muttering under his breath. The former SEAL could fly pretty much anything, only this wasn’t his plane and the old jet had seen better days. But it was the only one we could find at a moment’s notice…
Commandeer, anyway.
Where money didn’t speak a gun in the face got the message across loud and clear.
The asshole in the hangar was lucky I was desperate enough to leave him alive.
And as we approached a private airstrip outside Paris, Logan’s phone rang. He answered it with a bark as I sat across from him, gripping the armrest while the jet shuddered and shook, dipping lower in a steep descent.
I closed my eyes until Logan hung up the phone and spoke. “We got them…one of them, at least.” Then I wrenched open my eyes, meeting his. “Where?”
“A hangar twenty minutes away. My men are bringing him to us.”
I jerked my gaze toward the cockpit. “Logan…”
“Hold on, buddy,” he said carefully. “We’re going as fast as we can.”
But it wasn’t fast enough…
It wasn’t anywhere near fast enough.
And this time when the plane dipped, I welcomed the panic, swallowing it down instead. I’d drop us from the sky if I thought I could save her and we wouldn’t all die. So I focused on the thrumming in my head as we dipped lower and lower still.
Twenty minutes…
It may as well be a lifetime.
By the time the wheels touched down, I was clawing the buckle on my seatbelt. Logan was a heartbeat behind me as Ice swung the nose toward the small hangar used by former US military. I didn’t ask anymore, didn’t want to know. Whatever we needed, it happened. Only it wasn’t fast enough.
My brother’s phone rang again, only this time when he answered, it was with a curt, “Logan.” Silence as the plane jerked and slowed. “I see…yeah, thanks.”
I turned, meeting the wince in his gaze. “Hale’s heading into the city, word is he’s made contact with whoever has her.”
Made contact…
“That means—” Logan started.
“Iknowwhat it means,” I growled and stood, gripping the handle of the door and yanking. It meant Hale was about to ride in like a fucking knight in shining armor and take what was mine. And when he did…I’d never see her again.
The steel door shuddered and shook before flying open. I shoved the steel stairs forward as the plane jerked to a halt. Night waited for me. But it was a new night…fresh, cold,biting. The wind cut through my t-shirt, chilling me to my bones. The engines roared as I stepped out, scanning the larger hangar, finding a towering male with arms crossed over his chest waiting for us in the murky light that spilled from inside.
My hair scattered as I strode forward and reached out my hand. But it wasn’t in greeting. Steel slapped my palm before I shoved the Glock into the waistband of my jeans and pulled out my shirt. I wanted no warmth, no kindness. I wanted not a second wasted. “Where is he?” I met his gaze.
He glanced to Logan, then answered. “Inside…but I gotta warn you…”
No, he didn’t. I strode forward, leaving his warning behind. Every gaze bore down on me as I focused on the wide-open door of the hangar. The engine of the jet wound down, leaving my ears humming in the silence. The harsh yellow light barely reached the walls. Inside, I saw a single-engine plane, a four-wheeler ATV, and a black Range Rover with the rear door still open.
“Fuck you!”
The roar ripped through the space, drawing me to the guy strapped to the chair. He was big…bigger than Logan, not quite as big as the mountain outside. But his thick muscles bulged as he gripped the armrests with massive hands, hands that’d wrap easily around my throat. Veins popped out of his arms. This was a man who spent every waking minute he had in the gym, or training.
Highly skilled. A tough one to crack.
I stepped ahead, catching sight of the other beast of a male who'd captured him. He just smiled at the guy, calm, relaxed. These Special Forces were a breed unto themselves.
