"That’s more than okay. That’s… good work."
He gives me a wry half-smile.
"Hey, boss," a voice calls from the doorway.
I turn, and for a second, I think I’m seeing a ghost. Across the room is Pierre, bandaged along the hairline, a butterfly strip pulling together a cut on his cheek, standing in clean clothes that still hang a little crooked. His eyes are bloodshot, his face is pale under the bruises, but he’s standing.
"You’re supposed to be dead," I deadpan.
He gives me a tired half-smirk. "Yeah, well… woke up with the mother of all headaches in a hole full of bodies. I crawled through hell to get out of there…" His eyes have a haunted look, letting me see what it must have been like. "I made it out bleeding, but it took me a while to remember everything and find my way to the airport. Thank fuck Leo had another plane already waiting. I got cleaned up and patched on the ride back."
Pierre steps further inside, moving stiffly but with that stubborn survivor’s energy. "Two more of our guys straggled in, too. We came back together."
Relief punches through me hard enough to hurt. "Mario?"
Pierre’s smirk fades. He shakes his head once, grim. "No. I saw him. He’s gone."
I swallow the burn in my throat, I knew that. I saw him get shot. Nobody could have survived that. But when I saw Pierre… for a second… I step forward, clapping a hand on his shoulder before pulling him into a quick man-hug. "Glad you made it out."
"Figured you’d want to know…" Leo hesitates, then continues, "The girl you were looking for—Sophia—they went to LA for a few days. They’re coming back tonight."
That hits me harder than the news about Mario. "You sure?"
He nods. "Positive."
"By the way…" His lips twitch into a crooked grin. "How the hell did you get out, boss?"
"Long story," I say, but my mind’s already racing past it. Past Caracas. Past Valverde. Past everything except the fact that Sophia is on her way back.
And I’m done wasting time.
I turn back to Leo. "Headcount. Now. Who’s left and what gear we’ve got."
He hesitates. "Boss, you just got back. You’re still banged up. You need to take a breather before you?—"
"No," I cut him off, sharp enough to make him flinch. "I fucked up in Caracas. That’s on me. It won’t happen again." I look between him and Pierre. "We move tonight."
Leo studies me for a moment, then nods. No argument, no hesitation. He doesn't know who Sophia is to me. To him, she's just another job. But he trusts me, even after my fuckup, and that means a lot. I won't forget it.
Pierre frowns. "We can be ready, but… hitting Roberto’s place on the fly? You sure about this?"
"It’s now or never," I say, every word carved in steel. "She’s coming back tonight. Which means by tomorrow, she’s locked down again and ten times harder to reach."
Leo exhales, resigned. "Alright. I'll call in all our assets. Six trucks and enough hardware to level a city block. Pierre and I can work surveillance and comms." He looks at Pierre for confirmation. Pierre lets himself down on a chair and grunts his commitment.
"We need more men," I state. "We need a fucking army. I want those fuckers overwhelmed with numbers. I want them pissing their pants when they see us coming."
From the back, a deep voice cuts in. "I can call two."
I glance over and find Gray leaning with his arms crossed against the wall. He’s only been with me a year, but hisfile—what little I could dig up—reads like a graveyard of black ops.
"Two who can handle themselves?" I ask.
Gray’s mouth curves in a humorless smile. "Ex-CIA. Like me. The agency tried to burn them when they decided they didn’t like the way orders were getting carried out. They’ll jump at the chance to get back in action."
Before I can respond, Elias pipes up from near the weapons bench. "I’ve got a buddy. Ex-marine, he’s moved guns, gear, and people through tighter security than we’re gonna face tonight."
"And I can call two more," a woman’s voice adds. I turn toward Lexy, whose pale eyes catch the light like a predator’s. She used to wear an MI5 badge—MI5 Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force—until she went rogue, made herself famous for putting bullets in a room full of men who sold kids to the highest bidders before the cameras arrived. "They owe me. They can be here within the hour."
