Page 81 of Seal of Honor
Ha. He’d have paid to see his men handle one of Audrey’s tantrums. Her temper was like a sparkler, burning hot and fast before quickly fizzing out. A visual of Audrey squaring off against the long-suffering medic had a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Quinn was looking at him with an odd expression.
He shoved aside thoughts of Audrey. “What?”
“You.” He frowned. “You’re… different.”
“I’ve been hiked all over Hell, beat to a shit, and shot. Yeah, I’m not exactly in top form.”
“No. You’re…” He made a rolling motion with his hand as if looking for the right word but then gave up and glanced toward the hallway. “What’s going on with you and her?”
Ah. That was what this was about. Probably should have seen it coming. Since he hadn’t, he’d blame whatever was in those IV bags for addling his brain. “Nothing.”
“Did you fuck her?”
“Jesus Christ.” Anger exploded inside Gabe, so hot, so primal, that it took him by complete surprise. He didn’t get angry. Or if he did, he converted it into cool motivation. Always calm, unflappable, a rock, a stone wall.
But he definitely wasn’t feeling very stone-like right now and fisted the sheet on either side of his hips to keep from hitting something. Or someone.
“Don’t, Q.”
Quinn stared back, unrepentant. “It’s a legit concern. For all we know about her, she could be behind her brother’s kidnapping.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“No, I don’t. And neither do you.”
“She’s not involved. I’d stake my life on it.”
“You very nearly did,” Quinn shot back, eyebrows furrowed with concern.
Silence stretched taut between them.
Gabe didn’t care what Quinn thought. He knew down to his bones Audrey didn’t have it in her to mastermind something like this, nor did she have the connections to do it, and he was not budging. Neither, it appeared, was Quinn. So they could sit here trying to stare each other down and waste time, or move on to another more relevant topic.
Gabe bit the bullet and spoke first, even as he inwardly continued to seethe. “Are we in Bogotá?”
After a second more of stubborn silence, Quinn nodded. “Affirmative.”
“The address I gave you. Did you check it out?”
“We have visual confirmation that Jacinto Rivera is staying there with an as-of-yet unknown kid of about eighteen, give or take a few years,” Quinn said, sliding flawlessly from the role of concerned best friend to XO giving his superior officer a sitrep. “Harvard’s checking into the property, but he’s running in circles chasing aliases and dummy corporations. Whoever owns that house does not want it known. We never would have found it. We just don’t have good enough equipment. Or enough manpower.”
Something Gabe planned to fix. If they were going to do this whole private contractor thing, they were going to do it right from now on. No more of these half-assed, trial-by-fire missions.
“The kid’s name is Rodrigo ‘Rorro’ Salazar. Jacinto’s cousin,” he explained. “His deceased father owned the house. Did you see any sign of Bryson?”
“No visual confirmation, but when Jacinto arrived, he went into a basement. There’s a small rectangular window on the south side of the house, and Marcus saw the lights come on. By the time he got to the window, Jacinto had shut them off again, but he saw movement down there. They are definitely holding someone. What are the chances it’s not Bryson?”
Slim, Gabe thought. Everything they had pointed to Jacinto Rivera as Van Amee’s hostage taker. Were the chances good enough to risk his team in an extraction operation? He wasn’t sure. But did he really have a choice? No. They were out of time.
Bryson was out of time.
“Is the team around?” he asked.
Quinn nodded. “Jesse’s in the waiting room with Audrey, and Harvard’s still back at the safe house. Marcus and Jean-Luc were heading to the cafeteria for coffee and snacks when I came down to check on you. I left Ian at Jacinto’s house. He reported in about ten minutes ago. All’s quiet.”
“Good. Leave him there, but get him on the phone and everyone else in here for a briefing. We need a plan.”
