He was kneeling like Naomi, but everything about him looked different. His expression wasn’t fear. It was fury. His jaw was locked, eyes burning with defiance, even under the blood matting his dark blond hair. A gash split the side of his head, fresh and ugly, running down into his brow.
And on his chest, someone had taped a piece of paper.
Taking Harlan’s place.
Brenna looked up instinctively. Harlan was staring at the screen, fists clenched, face a mask of rage.
“No,” Harlan muttered. “No, no, no. They don’t get to touch him.”
Brenna felt it too, the helplessness twisting itself into something darker. Beck had fought beside them. He was the medic who had held lives together with nothing but grit and gauze. And now he was being used like bait. Like leverage.
Her hands shook.
Then, the third photo appeared.
Gary.
He looked worse than Beck. One eye swollen nearly shut. Blood on his shirt, his lip, the side of his face. His shoulders were slumped, but there was still a spark in his eyes, a silent refusal to break. Like if they were going to kill him, he’d make it plenty hard for them.
The paper taped to his chest said only two words.
For Colt.
Beside her, Colt stepped forward. His jaw clenched so tight Brenna thought it might snap. He stared at the screen, silent for a long moment, until his voice finally came—low, hard, controlled in the way that only meant danger. “Let’s go bring them home.”
Noah didn’t hesitate. He shut down the photo feed and turned for the door. “Gear up. Now.”
Brenna didn’t need telling twice.
They moved as one, hurrying to the armory across the hall. Harlan yanked open the weapons locker, Colt already loading rounds. Brenna’s body felt tight with adrenaline, her limbs shaky but moving fast. She clipped her vest into place, strapped on her sidearm, and forced herself to breathe.
They were going back to Timberline.
Back to the place that had nearly broken her. That had never really let her go.
Back to the living hell she wasn’t sure any of them would survive this time.
----- ? ----
Chapter Seventeen
----- ? ----
Colt shoved open the door and hit the stairs at a run, boots pounding behind him as Brenna and Harlan kept pace. The morning sun was already scorching the parking lot, but it was the heat in his chest that burned.
Nine hostages.
Nine lives in the hands of someone who knew exactly how to bait them.
They piled into the SUV. Harlan jumped behind the wheel, Colt riding shotgun, Brenna climbing into the back. Doors slammed. Colt jammed his earpiece into place.
“Noah, we’re en route,” he said.
“Copy,” Noah’s voice crackled through the comm. “Second team will be about five minutes out. Don’t wait. Just send us a sitrep when you land.”
Colt was already nodding. “We won’t wait.”
Harlan floored it, gravel spraying behind them as they tore out of the lot and hit the road north.
