Because every second we wait is another second she stays with him, but daylight makes this dirty. Sloppy. Loud. The last thing I need is police on our ass or Arsen catching heat before I get my hands on her.
My jaw flexes. “I know.”
That almost undoes something in me.
Almost.
But there’s no room for that now.
No room for anything except the image of Ayla on that screen and the ticking clock in my skull getting louder by the second.
I look at Gabriel one more time.
“If this gets her hurt—”
“It’s already too late for that. You know it,” he says, exhausted and raw. “I’m just trying to keep her breathing.”
My vision goes white for one hot second. Vaska steps in before I can cross the room again. Not touching me. Just there.
“Focus,” he says quietly.
I drag in a breath so hard it burns.
He’s right.
Again.
I fucking hate when he’s right. I look at the room. At my men. At Angelo. At the map.
Then I point at Gabriel.
“Cut him loose.”
Dimitri turns, startled. “Pakhan—”
“He comes with us.”
That gets everybody’s attention.
Gabriel’s head lifts sharply. “What?”
I meet his gaze.
“You wanted the truce. You wanted to live. You wanted me to believe you.” I step toward him slowly. “Congratulations. You’re now part of the rescue.”
Gabriel laughs once, tired and rough. “Me alone won’t get you close enough.”
I say nothing.
He shifts against the restraints, eyes cutting to the map. “Arsen’s men know mine. If I call this in right, if my people roll up looking like business instead of war, they won’t clock it right away. Gives you cover. Gives you a window.”
Dimitri mutters something low. Vaska stays silent.
I look at Gabriel for a long second. I don’t trust him. I don’t trust a single breath that comes out of his mouth.
But he’s right.
A clean lie gets me closer to her than brute force ever will.
