Page 177 of Ravaged Soul
Waving for the two seething men to follow, I strip off my warm leather glove to tap in the security code then swing the building’s gated door open. Kade organised secure accommodation for us in Estonia, but I’ve yet to see another living soul on this block.
We traipse upstairs and into the spacious three-bed home currently occupied by Sabre’s might. Our two intelligence droids tap away on their laptops in the corner, surrounded by crushed energy drink cans, while the Falcon Team pour over stacks of building blueprints.
Looking up from his task, Kyle meets my eyes. I nod once, and to my relief, he nods back. We haven’t spoken since he essentially denounced my presence on this case, but at least he’s done arguing for my permanent expulsion. I’ll take that as progress.
Warner presides over the room, bulging arms tightly folded and face set in severe lines. He tugs the earpiece free upon seeing me and quickly scans over my body, searching for any injuries.
“Told you I could do it.” I twirl on the spot to give him a better look.
“Good work.” He smiles faintly. “What’s this about a drainpipe?”
“Ember unleashed her inner Cirque du Soleil acrobat.” Blaine strolls into the apartment, pulling off his baseball cap. “It was quite enthralling.”
“So you were following me.” I spin around to glare at him.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“And you didn’t help?”
“It looked like you had the situation perfectly under control.”
“I was halfway up a damn drainpipe!”
“While I had a wonderful view of your tight backside, wiggling in the air.” He winks at me.
With a spat curse, Hyland looks up at the ceiling as if searching for strength. “If I kill him abroad, I can’t be prosecuted. Right?”
“That’s still premeditated murder.” Warner sighs wearily. “Not even Tom can argue against extradition of a foreign agent who kills one of his own.”
“Great.” Hyland deflates.
Sauntering past the twins, Blaine shucks off a silky-looking, navy plaid scarf then cracks his neck from side to side. God, he shouldn’t look so at home in the chaos. It’s hardly fair.
“Alright, focus up.” Warner claps his hands together. “Let’s go over the plan.”
We all gather around the large, hewed wood dining table that dominates the high-ceilinged living room. It’s layered with organised stacks of maps and paperwork on one end, while a heap of corrugated ammo boxes fills the other.
Given the firepower we’re bringing in to get the job done, the directors needed time to clear our rescue operation with localauthorities. I don’t know what kind of incentive Kade offered, but I’ve heard he’s a master negotiator.
“Thanks to our intelligence.” Warner nods towards Gunnar, however reluctantly. “We know that Nolan Madden has a centralised base of operations in downtown Tallinn, disguised as a legitimate storage and freight handling business.”
Rough fingers tangle with mine as a solid weight stops by my side. I look up at Hyland’s stony expression, our hands curling together naturally and without question.
“It seems he was aided in escaping our last investigation by our primary target, Antonio Gael.” Warner grimaces at that. “We’re anticipating that Gael intends to show up in Estonia to purchase Gracie Livingstone so he can eliminate her personally.”
“My sources confirmed that she is still alive and under Madden’s ownership,” Gunnar clarifies, lingering apart from our group. “They’re well paid and trustworthy.”
“With all due respect to your sources…”
“Not,” Hyland murmurs almost inaudibly.
“We have to perform our own verification,” Warner continues with a narrowed look in our direction. “Once we’ve secured the internal video feeds, I want Gracie’s location confirmed before any kind of rescue operation can be launched.”
“What if she’s not here?” I vocalise.
From the intelligence team, Rayna clears her throat. “There’s another property outside the city registered to one of the subsidiaries tied to Madden’s warehouse. It’s likely owned by him too.”
All the reasons why he would want to take Gracie to his home and not hold her in their criminal HQ don’t quite bear thinking about. But I contemplate them regardless. The swarming rage that fills my gut will come in handy when I tear his fucking head off.
