Page 2 of His Witness To Save

The deputy chief of the Chicago FBI unit was making a suggestion.

"Why don't we put together a strike team of our top agents from across the country and try to track down this bastard?"

Next to the picture of Kamal was the note he'd found on Brie's bedroom floor.

Even when he closed his eyes, he could still see the words firmly imprinted behind them.

They bounced around and around in his head, mocking him in Kamal's wet, leering voice.

"They're dead, and you're next."

His headache worsened, the voice in his head growing to a loud crescendo until Mack heard himself explode, "We don't have time!"

He rushed on as he felt all eyes in the room turn to him.

"We don't have the time to pull in any more men. We need to move now!"

The deputy chief sighed wearily. "It would be foolhardy, not to mention stupid, to strike with the men we have now," he said, gesturing vaguely around the room.

The other men seated around the table shuffled uncomfortably in their seats, looking everywhere except at Mack.

He knew what they all thought of him.

He knew they thought of him as a lucky, country bumpkin who'd barely managed to crawl up the ranks of the FBI. Many of them didn't believe he deserved his success and position. It was something that had always bothered him, but this time, he didn't care. All that mattered to him now was getting Brie back in one piece.

One by one, he looked at all their faces and felt the familiar anger rise within him.

He realized he could not wait for them to decide if they wanted to be alone or not. This was his job, his mission, and he'd be damned before he'd let anyone jeopardize it for him.

He took a deep breath and spat, "Send me."

They all looked up at him.

"Send me alone," he said again. "I'll go alone. I'll bring them home."

CHAPTER TWO

Mack felt the heat rise to his face as all pairs of eyes in the room swiveled in his direction and remained fixed on his face.

He forced himself to stand his ground and continue speaking, steadying his hands on the heavy oak table in front of him.

"I'm the best chance you have to bring those women home in one piece. I know how this bastard's mind works. I've fought him. I've been tracking him for years. I can do this. You know I can."

The deputy chief shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was a short, squat, round-faced man with small dark eyes and equally small fingers. It was said that he’d risen through the ranks using a variety of despicable means, including, but not limited to, blackmail. He ruled his division with an iron hand that had earned him several colorful nicknames, none of which were repeated within his hearing.

Now, he trained those eyes on Mack and spoke slowly as though speaking to an uncooperative child.

"Mack, you're the leader of our Alpha team. We can't afford to let you be captured, or worse, killed. I can't authorize a solo mission."

"Then let me take my own men," Mack pleaded.

The older man shook his head in a gesture he imagined conveyed sadness.

"I'm sorry, but you know I can't do that. The Alpha team has been deployed to Yemen to take care of the crisis there. Pullingthem back in now to chase after ghosts would be disastrous. Years and years of research and planning would be compromised."

Mack gritted his teeth and bit back the caustic response that had risen to his lips.

The deputy chief went on, “Everyone knows about your involvement with that Brie woman. You should know better than anyone not to get involved with witnesses, particularly those related to sensitive cases.”

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