Page 44 of Fang

Tank secures the door behind them, standing guard beside it like a sentinel.

The air in the room changes, charged with purpose and testosterone and the distinct smell of leather and gun oil. These men have brought war with them, and I’m suddenly, intensely grateful they’re on my side.

“Let’s get started,” Vapor says, his voice slicing through the tension. He doesn’t raise it, doesn’t need to. When he speaks, everyone listens. “Fang, show us what we’re dealing with.”

Fang connects his laptop to the projector Ice brought, the blue light washing over his focused face as he types. A moment later, the hospital’s blueprints blooms across the dingy motel wall.

“This is the clinic,” Fang explains, standing beside the projection. “Three floors, private security, owned through a shell company that ties back to the cartel. Main entrance here—” his finger traces the front of the building “—with two secondary exits here and here. Expect security checkpoints at every entrance, as well as armed guards inside and out.”

I watch the brothers lean forward, studying the layout intensely. There’s nothing casual about their focus. These men are violent professionals.

“Rory’s most likely here,” I add, stepping forward to point at the second floor. “Based on the communications we intercepted a few hours ago, they’ve got him in the long-termcare wing, probably a private room near the nurses’ station for maximum supervision.”

Bones crosses his massive arms over his chest. “Guards inside the room?”

“My guess is there’s at least one at all times,” Fang answers. “Rotating shifts, heavily armed.”

Ice studies the blueprints, his silver-blue eyes narrowing. “Security cameras?”

“Everywhere,” I say. “But the system runs on an isolated network. I can hack in once we’re inside and loop the feed in critical areas.”

“If we go in hot, how many men are we talking?” Diablo asks, his gravelly voice matching his menacing appearance.

Fang switches to another image—the clinic’s security rotation schedule I helped him steal from their servers. “Minimum of twelve armed guards on night shift. Plus whoever they’ve added specifically for Rory.”

“So fifteen, maybe twenty,” Vapor concludes, his face revealing nothing. “I’ve faced worse.”

“I’ve got something that might help make transporting Rory easier,” Ice interjects. “Borrowed a Mexican ambulance on the way from the airport. It’s stashed in a vacant garage three blocks from here. Scalpel’s watching it.”

“He’s here?” I gasp.

“Yeah,” Vapor says, skewering Fang with a look. “We’ll chat about that later. But he’s here to help.”

A ripple of approval moves through the room. An ambulance means legitimate access, reduced suspicion, and faster extraction. Having an actual doctor on board is ideal. This is great news overall, but I don’t miss Vapor’s anger. He must have found out about Scalpel trying to help us in NOLA. Fang’s going to have to explain that later.

“What about weapons?” Tank asks from his position by the door.

Vapor nods to Diablo, who unzips a duffel bag I hadn’t noticed before. “Nothing that can’t be concealed. Handguns with suppressors, combat knives, two compact submachine guns. We’re not looking for a war; we’re looking for a surgical extraction.”

“How’d you get all that through airport security?” I ask.

“Flew private and paid off a few people along the way,” Vapor says.

“What if they tip off the cartel anyway?” Fang asks.

“They know we’re coming. That’s a given at this point. If someone rats us out, so be it. Either way, we’re getting her brother out of there,” Bones says.

“Communications?” Tank asks.

“Encrypted earpieces,” Fang replies, opening the small case Bones carried in. “Short-range, but secure. No chance of the cartel intercepting our chatter.”

Vapor steps closer to the projected blueprints, studying them with the focus of a general planning a critical campaign. “Here’s how we play it,” he says, and the room falls completely silent. “Ice and Bones take point in the ambulance—paramedics responding to a call. Tank and Diablo secure the perimeter, take out external cameras, create a diversion if needed.”

This sounds very familiar. Fang and I tried the exact same thing with Scalpel in New Orleans. It would have worked if Rory had been there. I just hope he’s still in this hospital. Chasing him around the world isn’t going to work. This has to end now.

Vapor turns to me. “You and Fang go in with the first team. You’ll need to access their system, identify exactly where your brother is, and disable security measures. Fang, you stay with her, keep her covered.”

Fang nods, his expression solemn. “And you?”

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