Younger opened up the engine on the pass road and Rome got Cannon on the Blackout channel only—no way could they risk intel being intercepted.
He briefed Cannon in clipped words, and in the background he heard Monk’s rough voice, barking orders to drive faster.
Cannon responded without hesitation. “Feed is coming through from the gas station cams now. O is pulling it.”
Thirty seconds passed and O came over comms. “Got him. Plate on the vehicle is stolen—reported missing out of Portland three days ago. Driver’s face is partially obscured.”
Rome bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose hard to stave off his emotions. The bastard’s only mistake was gassing up, but was it enough?
Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. It was time for war.
O broke in. “There’s a forest service gate on that road. Avalanche closure, two miles before the airstrip. One way through, no way around. He hits that gate, he’s done.”
“Then we’ve got him.” Cannon’s voice was iron. “Team one, come up behind him from the west. Team two, we cut through the logging road and block the airstrip from the east. We catch him in the middle before he reaches transport.”
Rome lifted his head.
Stina was two miles up that road in the dark with a man who had shot Rivers and left him bleeding in the snow. Rome was going to get her back.
He would end this.
And then he’d end the man who took her.
* * * * *
One second Rivers was there. The next he was on the ground with one hand pressed to his side and blood, inky black in the darkness, spilling over his fingers.
Stina was too stunned to scream.
Jolie grabbed her wrist. Her grip was hard and her voice barely a breath against Stina’s ear. “We need to stall him. Whatever you do, keep him talking. The guys will come.”
Then the man was at the door with a rifle aimed at both of them in the back seat and there was no more time for anything except surviving.
Her mind reeled as she tried to make sense of what was happening to them. When he pushed them toward the SUV at gunpoint, her body jerked with understanding.
They were going to die if they didn’t do what he demanded.
As soon as Stina’s feet obeyed, her mind sucked in details. She memorized his size, build and the way he moved. He wore all black, a mask and gloves.
Not an inch of him was exposed to give away his identity.
Only one thing stuck out, and it was glaring.
He handled the weapon like he was born with it in his hand.
She filed that away and remembered what Jolie told her to do—stall. “I have a blister. I can’t walk this fast.”
He didn’t look at her. “You’re gonna have a bullet hole if you don’t.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “Oh my god! Are you a sex trafficker? Because I have to tell you—I’m a terrible investment. I’m extremely high maintenance and I have strong opinions about—”
“Shut up and walk! Or I’ll shoot you like I shot your friend.”
Oh god. Rivers.
Her mind took the blow all over again—seeing blood spill over his fingers right before he fell.
She must have slowed her steps because her kidnapper shoved her in the back with the barrel of the gun, causing her to lurch forward and almost fall on her face.