He was already moving with his cane in his hand before his thoughts caught up to his panic.
“War room,” Valor said, holding the elevator open for them.
White Ravens
Gage
The War Room bustled with controlled urgency.
Handlers and members of their field team were already inside.
Gage walked in, not waiting for permission to take command.
“Where is he?”
“They’re pulling it up now.” Roz’s voice was tight.
Seconds later, Jo arrived with her team, Meridian and Grace following close behind her.
“Pull the locator feed and backtrack him.” Meridian gritted.
Roz was in Gage’s ear, giving him a play-by-play of what they were watching.
“The main screen is showing a street view from a high camera angle. He was about twelve miles from headquarters, on foot, unhooded, moving north up F street to 21st.”
“Where is he now?” he barked.
“Gage, stay calm,” Jo ordered.
How the hell was he supposed to do that? Walking down the street wasn’t a cause for him to activate his emergency beacon.
“Two men are approaching him from the front,” Roz said.
Gage’s heart kicked hard, but he forced himself to stay in his seat.
Roz’s tone changed. “I know them.”
“How?” Jo asked.
“Chicago. They’re from Scar’s old crew.”
Gage’s blood went cold.
“They’re giving him a dap, and shoulder bump, as if…”
“I already see the setup,” Zorion said.
“Four coming up fast from behind,” Roz continued. “Scar looks like he’s calculating, but— Fuck.”
Gage squeezed his cane, needing his other one: The Halo.
“One of them is pressing something into Scar’s side, probably a gun. They’re forcing him into a car. A black Lincoln SUV.”
“Trace the plates,” Jo said, but the Intel team already had it before she could finish the sentence.
“It’s a rental.”
Roz kept narrating, “They’re moving, skidding away from the curb.”
