"That's funny. You make it seem like you're not going to send nine hundred emails the minute her eyes close."
"I won't," she argued, turning to leave. "I'll take a quick nap."
I snagged her phone out of her back pocket. "Then you don't mind me holding on to this for you. You'll get it back on Monday."
"We'll see about that," she called from the hall.
With the door closed, I tapped Jordan Kaisall's contact on my phone. He answered immediately. "Tell me you're tracking Wes."
"The fact you're asking me this is insulting," Jordan replied.
"Be insulted," I said. "Where is he?"
"The Caribbean," Jordan said. I heard him tapping his keyboard.
"More specifically?"
"One of the small islands. South end. Looks like he's been there nine hours after bouncing down the eastern seaboard and across the islands for about two days. Let me patch Shaw into this call. He'll clean up the signal."
"I'm gonna need a hand with this," I warned.
"Yeah, I'm in the mood to drop everything and collect your brother from the Caribbean. No problem," he said with a groan. "Let me ping my mother and tell her to start rearranging my schedule."
"Say hi to Mama Trish for me," I replied.
"She doesn't want to talk to you."
"Come on. Do it anyway. She loves me," I argued.
"We could send the kidnap and rescue team," he said. "All right. Shaw's on. We need clean coordinates on the target I'm tracking."
"Hey, Shaw," I said. "Yeah, Kaisall. Wecouldsend a K&R squad but let me ask you this: when was the last time we sent them to pick up a SEAL-turned-CIA-operative? Those boys bring in some serious coin. I don't want to risk putting any of them on the injured reserve because my brother knocked the snot out of them."
"I'll remind you he has one good arm," Jordan said.
"I'll remind you he left a trail of bodies behind him on his last mission, and that was with one good arm and an open gunshot wound."
"Point taken," Jordan grumbled.
"Montserrat," Shaw announced. "Sending exact coordinates now."
"What's the level of urgency on this?" Jordan asked. "I have a couple of meetings today I won't be able to reschedule for a month or two."
"What's the flight time to—where are we going again?" I asked.
"About two thousand miles," Shaw said. "I'd estimate five or six hours by private jet. Closer to seven or eight, including stops, on commercial."
"I don't know how to fly commercial," Jordan snapped.
"Because your life is so strenuous," I murmured. As much as Shannon wanted this resolved right fucking now, I couldn't catch a flight to the Caribbean tonight. Nights were the toughest for her. Abby had teeth coming in and slept miserably. Even if Annabelle believed in sleeping more than a few hours at a time, Shannon was committed to the double feeding schedule. And there was a goddamn family wedding tomorrow night. "Wheels up at four hundred hours. We'll be there and back before sunset. I'll have some hell to pay if I'm late for this wedding."
"I'll call the hangar," Jordan said.
* * *
Shannon:I'm sending you the floor plan of the Lyman Estate.
Will:What the hell are you talking about, peanut?
