Page 67 of Take Me Back
“There’s a reason I don’t have a woman. Too many fucking enemies. There any chance this is coming out of the past, man?”
“Maybe.”
“Think that shit through while you’re at it so we know who we’re up against. I’ll pull up my handy list of human traffickers and try to narrow it down on my end. Hold tight, DC. We’re coming for you.”
Rome hangs up and I’m left in the same situation I was before—in a boat in the middle of a dark ocean with no fucking clue where my wife is. Except now my team, the one I walked away from, is coming.
This time, there’s no way in hell I’ll sit back and watch.
* * *
One year ago
“He’s gone.”
Kat’s voice came over the line in a broken sob, and instantly I was on edge. She had never called me crying before, and certainly not on my emergency number.
“Who’s gone, baby?”
“Benjie. He’s ... dead.” Through hiccups and sobs, she told me what happened. He didn’t want anyone to know he was sick.
If he were here right now, I’d kill him for hurting her like this.
Rome jerked his chin, calling me over to the screen where the faces of three American tourists stared back at me. The rest of the team was ready to get final orders so we could move out.
Except I knew there was no fucking way I could do anything but get my ass to the States and Kat.I have to be there for her.
I thought back to when Benjie tracked me down in the bar a couple of months back.Fucker was trying to warn me. It all made sense.
“I’ll be there in five hours, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. I wish I was already there.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re busy.”
“Five hours. I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” She sniffled before she hung up.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and crossed the room to Rome. With one more look at the husband, wife, and six-year-old boy on the screen being held for ransom by the cartel, I shook my head.
“I’m so fucking sorry, but I gotta go. Kat’s best friend is dead. He was like a brother. She’s shattered, man.”
Rome nodded. “Family comes first. At least, yours does. Go.”
“You sure you got this?”
He crossed his arms. “Of course we do.” He turned and looked at a dark-haired man sitting at a computer in this shitty borrowed office space in Mexico City. “Luis will take your spot, won’t you, Luis?”
Luis had been begging to get into the field for months. Maybe it would be okay. He would hang back and let the guys do the job, and provide backup if needed.
Luis shot out of his chair. “Hell yeah, I will. I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
“See,” Rome said. “We got it covered. Get your ass home to your wife.”
Forty-five minutes later, I arrived at the gate where my flight would board. Ten minutes to go. I pulled out my iPad, connected to my encrypted network so I could watch the feeds from the headsets the guys wore, and plugged in my earbuds to hear the comm chatter.
But when I pulled up the screen, instead of seeing a smooth extraction, all hell was breaking loose.
“Taking fire!”
