Page 141 of Creed

Rolf points at the island. “Why that spot?”

Len pulls out her knife and taps the tip on the box top. “It’s solid land so our team leader can be more sure of his shot,” she says about Tag. “And it allows me a place to wait hidden from view and then approach quietly once Kotan stalls the yacht.”

“Not to mention, right there,” Jones points to the screen, “is international waters. The response time for authorities will be longer; meaning the evidence that isn’t blown to teeny-tiny bits has longer to burn and sink.”

“It’s a solid plan.” I look from Tag to Len. “What do you need?”

“The boats,” Len answers.

“And a long-range rifle, preferably a .338 Lapua,” Tag adds.

“We’ll need more weapons for the extraction,” Nexin says.

“Done. Vito and Massimo will get us everything we need.”

I’ve already stepped over the line, decimated it actually; however, that was in part survival.

The call I’m about to make feels more momentous. It will be me acting in a proactive, conscious way to play a direct part in killing everyone on Morales’s yacht. But Len’s deduction is correct—no one on that boat, except for Sophie and Severyn, can survive.

I hit Vito’s number, and he answers after the first ring, even though they’re eyeball-deep in dealing with andmanagingwhat went down at the club. “Baby brother.”

“I have some things we need.”

“Dom and the Saints are on standby for their San Diego contraband contacts to provide what we’re short on.” That our allies are behind us, standing with us, to save Sophie makes my throat close with gratitude-laced emotion. “Hit me with it so we can save Triple S.”

My angel. My home. My everything.

I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back and keep her safe.

Sending a boatload of some of the world’s worst motherfuckers straight to hell? Well, I’ll do that with a smile.

Chapter 41

Sophie

My head pounds liketiny people are rioting inside my skull. I keep still, slowly waking and getting my bearings without alerting our captors that I’m awake.

My head hurts like hell, but that’s the only thing that hurts. I know in the predicament that we’re in, the fact that only my head hurts is something to be grateful for.

Whatever I lie on moves up and down like rolling over a wave. Panic rears within me, realizing we’re on a boat. I try to calm myself down, remembering what Severyn said before we were taken: her team would know where we were, and they’ll get us.

My head clears some more, and I realize my father is in the room, talking.

“My daughter… now, there’s a fighter,” he says.

“Such a shame to waste a beautiful piece of ass like Sophie to the maze in the qualifying round or the cage fights,” a different man says. “I say we enter her in the with the rest of the sex slaves; that way, we can continue to make a profit off her as her owners for years.”

I think I’m going to be sick.

“We’ve already been over this, Salome,” my father snaps. “Sophie has the makings of a Champion. She looks soft and sweet, but under that pretty shell, she’s a viper, just like herpapá.”

“Yes, your daughter,” Salome croons. “You promised me I’d get to break her in before we handed her over to the Collectors.”

My breath rattles in my collapsing chest with my rising panic.

“We’re on a tight schedule. I don’t know what Morales is doing, but it’s taking us fucking forever to reach the drop-off point. Plus, are the damn cell phones working yet?”

“I told you it’s like a jammer is blocking them,” Salome seethes. “Like Severyn Andrews’s uncle, who’s, you know, afucking mogulin the tech industry, gave her something that would do that because our phones haven’t worked since we grabbed these two.”

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