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  “No,” she cried out and ran from the cliff on the long journey to the beach below.

  †

  The remains of the helicopter floated in the surf. Some debris had already found its way to shore on the abandoned beach a good distance from Giovanni’s island resort. Jackie arrived on the beach several minutes later and saw a man’s moderately burnt hand sticking out of water not far from shore. Jackie ran into the surf and clutched the hand, pulling it from the water. She stared at the severed, burnt hand and immediately released it while screaming. She looked around at the smoldering debris and objects floating in the surf. Jackie grabbed a shirt floating in the water that she immediately recognized as Zack’s. She stared at the bloodstains and the bullet hole in the torn shirt then looked into the water.

  “Zack!”

  There was no response. Jackie began to sob while clinging to the shirt.

  “Zack!”

  Jackie fell to her knees within the surf and softly sobbed while clutching the shirt to her chest.

  “No, don’t do this to me,” she sobbed softly.

  †

  A little over an hour later, the five men from the former Navy SEAL team Whiskey Tango Foxtrot and Jackie stood on the beach with their rifles in their hands. An attractive woman in her mid-twenties with long, copper colored hair, Pinto Romano, and her father, Salvatore Romano, a robust man, in his mid-forties with a youthful appearance, remained behind them and watched. Pinto and Sal had both looked better. Sal was recovering from a bullet wound to his arm, while Pinto had been grazed by a bullet to her shoulder and suffered several bruises and lacerations from an earlier incident at Giovanni’s luxury resort leading up to the helicopter crash. Jackie and the five men from her team fired their rifles simultaneously and repeatedly in the air giving Zack his final, twenty-one gun farewell salute.

  Sal held Pinto while she sobbed softly for the team’s loss. A silver sable German shepherd dog, Darth, lay on the beach with his head on his paws and watched in silence. By the final round of the twenty-one gun salute, Jackie was nearly on her knees while sobbing. Monroe Dallas, a tall, lanky man in his mid-thirties, pulled Jackie into his arms, despite nursing his own shoulder wound, and held her while the others watched the helicopter debris continuing to wash ashore with the surf.

  “I thought he’d be back,” she whispered to Monroe while clinging to him allowing the tears to streak her face. “He always comes home.”

  “I know,” Monroe softly announced while caressing her almost as much for his own comfort.

  †

  The yacht sailed from Giovanni’s private island toward the port in Columbia where the team would disembark and catch a flight home. Jackie stood along the railing with Monroe, who stiffly flexed his injured shoulder. She tried her cell phone again and finally got a signal. She pressed the number for Holden’s cell phone, gave Monroe a strange look, and then disconnected the call.

  “That’s strange,” she informed him. “The voicemail isn’t picking up. It just keeps ringing.”

  “Did you try the office?”

  “No, not yet.”

  Her cell phone rang before she had a chance to try a different number. She looked at Monroe and smiled. “It’s the Bureau number.” Jackie accepted the call with enthusiasm. “Holden?” She hesitated and eyed Monroe. “Mr. Harris, I’m sorry. I thought you were Holden. I’ve been out of town.” She fell silent then suddenly gasped, alerting Monroe. “What?” she cried out. “What happened? Is he okay?”

  Monroe gave her his full attention. He seemed to sense the conversation and immediately listened. Jackie shut her eyes a moment while holding her breath. She briefly choked up.

  Her voice crackled as she spoke. “Thanks for calling, Mr. Harris.”

  She disconnected the call and looked at Monroe. He stared at her with indescribable horror on his face. She exhaled softly. “There was an incident during a raid,” she informed him while trembling. “Holden’s been shot, but he’s going to be okay.”

  Chapter Three

  Jackie suddenly jerked awake and looked around with some disorientation. She realized she was in the back of a taxicab with Monroe, who kept watch over her with a slight look of pity. He attempted a smile but didn’t comment. Jackie straightened in her seat, frowned, and looked out the side window.

  “How much longer to the hospital?” she asked in a weary tone.

  It was Sunday morning, and they’d been traveling by boat, plane, and automobile since late Saturday afternoon, making nearly fifteen hours into their journey from Columbia to Colorado. It had been less than twenty-four hours since Zack’s fiery crash into the ocean with the disabled helicopter, yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. If she hadn’t felt numb already, receiving word of Holden’s brush with death during a raid was enough to push her over the edge. Although she wouldn’t admit it, she was glad Monroe insisted on going to the hospital with her, even if they reassured her that Holden would be fine. She wished she had a chance to talk to him, but the hospital staff had an excuse each time she called during the last dozen or more hours.

  “We should be there in less than ten minutes,” Monroe gently informed her and again offered a sympathetic look she’d already come to hate.

  She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Jackie hated to admit she was beyond exhaustion, but she knew sleep wasn’t happening. She’d feel better once Holden held her in his arms and reassured her he was fine.

  “He’s going to be okay,” Monroe insisted without hesitation as if reading her thoughts.

  “I know,” she replied without looking at him.

  There was a long, awkward silence between them. Monroe wasn’t exactly the strong, silent type, so his actions were somewhat out of character. Jackie cast a glance at Monroe’s profile and saw something almost concerning in the way he didn’t look at her.

  “Is something bothering you?” she finally asked.

  Monroe managed a smile as he finally looked at her. She’d seen that smile before. It was his bullshit smile. The next thing out of his mouth would be a well-constructed lie intended to make her feel better.

  “No, of course not,” he replied. “It’s just been a really bad twenty-four hours, that’s all.” He flexed his sore shoulder from the gunshot wound he received yesterday on Giovanni’s island. Monroe then looked away in an attempt to end the conversation that obviously made him uncomfortable.

  “Do you think there was something more to Holden’s ambush?” she suddenly asked.

  He briefly glanced at her and raised a clever brow. “That’s ridiculous,” Monroe replied while attempting to keep the conversation light. “The guys we took down barely knew your name. I sincerely doubt they intentionally went after Holden.” He then seemed to take offense to the question. “Besides, Holden’s botched raid happened long before we accepted the assignment on Giovanni’s island. The incidents are definitely not connected.”

  Jackie frowned, unconvinced of anything anymore. She’d been through too much in the last few days. Despite the numb feeling she had inside, her body seemed to twitch with anxiety. She wanted to punch something or even scream aloud. She drew a deep breath and attempted to control her emotions. She just needed to be patient. Everything would be better once she held Holden. It always was.

  Once the taxi pulled up to the front of the hospital, Monroe and Jackie were on their way to the ICU. They didn’t bother stopping at the front desk since Holden’s boss had told them which floor he’d been admitted. They headed for the ICU nurse’s station to enquire his room number when Jackie saw Holden’s boss standing outside one of the rooms with a uniformed police officer. She immediately headed toward Blake and put on a false, brave front.

  “Mr. Harris,” Jackie announced while squeezing out something resembling a smile.

  Blake Harris, a well-dressed, distinguished looking man in his forties, turned when he heard his name. When he saw Jackie approach, his expression immediately dropped. His look frightened her. She quickened her pace with Monroe o
n her heels and stopped before Holden’s boss.

  “Jackie,” he practically gasped then hesitantly touched her shoulders, frightening her with his unusually warm sediments and an indescribable look in his eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” she immediately gasped, feeling her heart pounding as a thousand horrible thoughts raced through her mind.

  They said he was alive. They said he would be fine. Actually, they said he should be fine. Fear spread through her as she stared at Holden’s boss.

  Blake held his breath while staring into her eyes with a look that caused her to shiver. “Holden’s gone.”

  Jackie suddenly gasped, feeling her legs suddenly give out beneath her. How was that possible? They said he’d be fine. Monroe was quick to place his arm around her shoulders and support her.

  Blake saw her expression and immediately tensed. “I mean, he’s disappeared.”

  She stared at him with a puzzled look while clutching Monroe’s lower arm as he held onto her. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Thankfully, she had Monroe, who maintained his ability to think straight.

  Monroe’s brows suddenly knitted as he stared at Blake while increasing his grip on Jackie. “What do you mean he disappeared?” he demanded. “How does a man with multiple gunshot wounds disappear? Did he go for a walk? What?”

  Blake looked from Jackie to Monroe and shook his head with uncertainty. “We don’t have any idea,” he replied, obviously defeated. “The officer here was posted at his door last night. Holden was sleeping peacefully. When the nurses checked on him this morning, he was gone.”

  Monroe glared at the officer but didn’t say what was on his mind. His look said enough.

  The officer seemed to feel bad enough and quickly attempted to explain the situation. “I went for coffee twice throughout the night and once to the bathroom,” the police officer informed them. “I wasn’t gone more than two minutes on any of the three occasions.”

  “We’re looking into the hospital’s security footage now,” Blake announced, hoping to reassure them they were doing their best. “The nurses assured me there’s no way Holden could have gotten out of bed and walked away on his own.”

  Jackie and Monroe exchanged looks, revealing the same concerns. Blake’s comment didn’t exactly ease their minds any. Jackie couldn’t even bring herself to respond to the comment as she barely heard the conversation.

  “So someone took him?” Monroe blurted out, his hostility rising. “In the middle of a hospital?”

  “The wheelchair in his room is gone,” Blake replied. “Considering he was on some heavy pain killers, that’s the only explanation we can come up with.”

  Jackie stared blankly at nothing while she attempted to process the information, but she couldn’t get past Holden being taken against his will. She feared what became of him and who had him. Normally, she’d be the one exploding and demanding answers, but she couldn’t pull her thoughts together. Monroe turned defensive enough for them both.

  “You’re not instilling a lot of faith, Blake,” Monroe demanded as he finally released Jackie. He folded his arms across his chest in an intimidating manner, conveniently hiding the pain his injured shoulder caused him in doing so.

  Blake hesitated then turned to the police officer and nodded him away. Once the officer left, he looked back at Monroe. “You know I’m eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for my family and me in the past,” he announced then shot him a warning glare, “but you need to keep your head. We’ll find Holden without you and your team destroying half my city.”

  “Then you’d better work fast,” Monroe snapped in a low, commanding tone as his arms dropped to his sides and his fists clenched. “We’ve already suffered one loss this week. We won’t lose anyone else.”

  “I’ll let you know what the security footage reveals, Monroe,” Blake announced in a reassuring tone. “I want Holden found as much as you do.”

  Although not completely convinced by Blake’s reassurances, Monroe managed a slight nod then motioned Jackie toward the elevator. She stared at the floor with the same blank expression and wasn’t even aware he’d been attempting to get her attention. She was stuck in a strange world where she couldn’t process her feelings. He gently put his arm around her shoulder, startling her, and then guided her toward the elevator. She didn’t remember entering the elevator or Monroe’s comforting words. She heard his voice, but nothing registered. Jackie felt oddly cold and numb.

  Chapter Four

  The old lodge was nestled in a massive clearing in the middle of nowhere Colorado as far as one could get from civilization. Once an impressive resort, the fifty bedroom hotel showed years of neglect. There were several boarded windows, the paint was peeling, and the wraparound porch appeared to be eroding. A small, two-passenger helicopter rapidly dropped down just several yards from the lodge. Its landing was a little rough, indicating a sense of urgency. As the rotors slowed, a handsome man and the German shepherd dog jumped from the helicopter. Gil Rafferty was on the upper end of thirty if not in his early forties. His short dark hair, peppered with gray, gave him a slightly distinguished look. Both Gil and the dog ran for the lodge in the near distance.

  Gil and Darth entered the massive lobby that had been painstakingly renovated, despite the condition of the outside. The old-fashioned front desk was possibly antique and added class to the lobby. A large, walk-in stone fireplace took up the entire back wall, and an open, wooden staircase led to the second-floor rooms, which overlooked the lobby. Pinto stood alongside another man within the lobby. Kirk Mandel was a large, muscular man who stood an imposing 6’4” with broad shoulders and biceps the size of tree trunks barely hidden beneath his form-fitting shirt. His buzz cut and thick facial stubble made him look moderately intimidating.

  Kirk and Pinto barely acknowledged Gil as he hurried across the lobby toward them. They seemed to be engrossed in the conversation another team member, Beck, was having on the satellite phone. The satellite phone was the only real communication available in the middle of backwoods nowhere. Beck Larue was a ruggedly handsome man in his mid-thirties. He stood over six feet tall and maintained an impressive athletic build. They watched as Beck paced with the phone to his ear while vigorously running his fingers through his light brown hair.

  “You stay with her, Monroe,” Beck announced firmly into the phone. “Don’t leave her out of your sight. We’ll figure it out.” There was a pause. Beck suddenly turned angry. “I don’t know,” he shouted into the phone then attempted to control his emotions. It was obvious the stress of acting as temporary commander was getting to him. “Just keep an eye on her. We don’t need Jackie going off half-cocked right now. She’s been through enough.” He held his breath and considered the comment. “We all have.” He listened to Monroe on the other end. “Yeah, I’m working on it. I’ll call you back.”

  Beck disconnected the call and looked at Gil, who appeared unusually tense. For a man who never displayed emotions openly, he was sending some strong emotions now. Beck was so distraught after his call, he didn’t even seem to notice Gil’s mood.

  “That was Monroe,” Beck informed Gil and the others while having a difficult time holding his emotions. “Holden’s missing from the hospital. The nurses said there’s no way he left on his own. Someone either helped him or took him.”

  Gil shut his eyes and exhaled as if in pain.

  Beck eyed him, finally noticing his emotional state, and started putting things together. “Did you come in a helicopter?” he suddenly asked then acknowledged his rather unusual mood. “Is something wrong?”

  “I heard it on the news,” Gil announced and had a tough time finishing his sentence before groaning. “I went straight to Ross’s ranch.”

  Everyone stared at Gil and his pale expression. They all seemed to tense at once and remained unusually silent.

  “Ross’s brother-in-law hasn’t heard from him in days,” Gil remarked then fidgeted. “A building exploded in a small town not far from Rio. Wit
nesses reported hearing gunshots just before the explosion.”

  There was a strange silence from the others as they stared at Gil, awaiting the rest of the story.

  “A man and woman fitting Ross and Lee’s descriptions were seen in the marketplace just before the gunshots,” Gil informed them then gently touched his graying temple. “They’ve located several bodies in the rubble.”

  Pinto gasped while holding her hand over her mouth, the horror clearly on her face. Kirk and Beck stared at Gil and his pale expression.

  “Now we don’t know--”

  “Lee’s passport was in a purse they recovered from the debris,” Gil gasped while fighting hard to stop the tears from welling in his eyes.

  Beck seemed to stare at nothing then sank into the nearby chair. Kirk abruptly turned and walked away. A moment later, they heard a loud thump, his fist undoubtedly striking the first wall just out of sight. Pinto hurried to Beck’s side, fell into the chair alongside him, and clung to his arm. Although she was attempting to comfort him, she sobbed softly into his shoulder. Despite her crying, he could do little more than hold his hand to his temple and stare blankly at the floor. Gil stayed only a moment then turned and headed back out the door with Darth following. Only a moment later, the helicopter was heard taking off. Darth sat in the middle of the yard, whimpering while staring at the helicopter as it swiftly zipped away and out of sight, leaving him behind. He lay down, placed his head upon his paws, and stared at the quickly vanishing helicopter.