Page 104 of Defending You
The scarred leader watched, then turned his attention to Gagnon, apparently unbothered by the execution he’d just witnessed. “If the bodyguard’s alive?—”
“Then he’s coming.” Gagnon checked his phone screen, then blew out a breath. “Still no sign of the locator.” His gaze flicked to Cici. He smoothed his tie, regaining his composure with disturbing ease.
“You think he’ll be able to track her down?”
“He’s proved irritatingly competent,” Gagnon said.
“We’ll be ready.” The leader turned to one of his cohorts. “Warn the men to be on the lookout.”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier stepped out the door, tapping his ear before talking into some sort of communication device.
Asher might be alive, but the hope that had soared at the prospect now crashed in pieces. Because if he was, then Gagnon was right—he’d come for her. But he’d have no idea what he was walking into.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Yartym’s reporting a gunshot at the factory.”
Asher’s gaze snapped to Bartlett, whose expression was grim.
“It’s not Cici,” Asher snapped. “Gagnon won’t kill her as long as he thinks he can use her.”
Praying he was right, Asher put the gunshot out of his mind and returned his focus to the satellite image on the laptop screen, which looked like a blueprint for a nightmare.
Alyssa had found and disabled the tracking software loaded onto the SD card, so they’d powered up their phones again. Now, her laptop was connected to the internet—hotspot, he figured, but he didn’t care how she’d done it before she’d wandered off to make a phone call.
The paper mill complex sprawled across the screen in grainy detail—three main buildings connected by covered walkways, surrounded by a chain-link fence, not to mention a summer’s worth of growth—trees, bushes, weeds—where anyone could hide.
Cici was in the middle of that, guarded by monsters. He couldn’t think of a better setup for a horror movie.
He inhaled and exhaled, focusing his thoughts.Work the problem. Don’t think about all the things that could go wrong.
“Main factory building.” He tapped the largest structure with his index finger. “That’s where the mercenaries went. It’s got the most cover, multiple exits, and”—he tapped the exterior fire-escape staircases, which led from the roof, down to the second floor, then to the ground—“two floors. If this is like other factories I’ve seen, then the top floor probably looks down over the first, giving them the high ground. If I were holding a hostage, that’s where I’d set up shop.”
Grant had found photos of the paper mill from when it was still operational. His gaze bounced between his cell phone and the satellite image. “There’re windows on the second floor.” He turned to Bartlett. “Your guys see any lights on?”
Bartlett asked the question of his team on his cell phone. He shook his head. “No lights. Some of the windows look like they’ve been blocked.”
“We have to assume they’re watching,” Grant said. “The covered walkways are a double-edged sword. They can move between buildings without being spotted from above, but so can we.”
Callan’s focus was on Alyssa, who paced a few feet away, still talking on the phone. He seemed to have to force his gaze back to the laptop. “We’ll need to get inside the fence without alerting them we’re there. Do they have guards outside it?”
Bartlett fielded that. “At least four, and my guys’ view is limited.”
Callan’s gaze bounced back to Alyssa, who was coming toward them. “Well?”
“Michael and Dad are both working on getting us real-time satellite imagery. One of them will get it done.”
Two more were working on getting them help, added to those who’d come when he’d called.
Asher felt something shift inside him. The familiar weight of responsibility hadn’t lifted from his shoulders, but it didn’t feel like it was crushing him anymore. He didn’t have to do this by himself. He met each team member’s eyes before focusing on Grant. He was a legend at GBPA. Some claimed that he’d attacked a boatload of killers, taken them all out, and rescued two hostages. Even if the stories were exaggerated, this guy knew what he was doing. “What’s our best approach?”
“Simultaneous breach from multiple points.” Grant’s finger traced paths on the old satellite image. “We go in quiet, take out their sentries. Even if we’re discovered, their attention will be divided. They’ll be forced to respond on several fronts.”
Bartlett stepped closer to the laptop. “My men are positioned here and here.” He pointed to two spots on opposite sides of the property, outside the fence. “They’re in high spots. They can provide cover.”
“What about Cici?” Alyssa’s pitch rose with worry. “As soon as they know we’re there, Gagnon could cut his losses.”
“He won’t kill her.” Callan wrapped his arm around Alyssa, giving her a little squeeze. “Not if he thinks there’s any chance we have the SD card. It has names, dates, financial records—enough to bring down half the criminal organizations on the East Coast.”
