Forged in Steele (KGI #7)(100)

“What if he doesn’t make that call until he’s on the move with Maren?” Skylar asked. “There’s a fifteen-minute gap between the time he says she has to show and when he has to make that call. That tells me he’s prepared for exactly what we’re planning, and he’s going to make that call on the move.”

“Then we have to make damn sure we don’t lose visual contact at any point, and we move when he moves. We also plant a tracking device on Maren, be prepared for the worst-case scenario if we lose visual or he actually gets away,” Sam said. “This guy is certifiable. He’s nuts. He’s not thinking clearly. That’s obvious. So he can’t have covered all his bases. His sole objective is to get Maren back. He’s discounted us from the beginning, when Hancock first warned him about us. In his mind he’s untouchable. That gives us an edge because even if he’s expecting us to make a move, he’s already thinking that he’s outsmarted us and he won’t be expecting the magnitude of our power and resources.”

“If he’s in a fixed location and isn’t on the move when he makes that call, I want Cole, P.J., Skylar and Joe in position, and when the call is done, I want him taken out,” Steele said.

“And why are you here again, Hancock?” Garrett drawled. “The way I see it, you aren’t offering much of anything unless you’re going to be holding pom-poms and cheering us on.”

Hancock stared coldly at Garrett. “Caldwell is my mission and I’ll be there when he goes down.”

“Yeah, yeah, failure isn’t an option,” Ethan said with a roll of his eyes. “We’ve heard it before. But from where I’m standing, this is one giant F on your report card, Hancock.”

“I don’t give a f**k who gets credit for taking him out,” Hancock snarled. “I just want it done so I can move on to Maksimov.” He rubbed his bruised jaw and then his swollen eye. “I have a personal score to settle with that ass**le now.”

“I’m thinking your next performance review is going to suck,” Dolphin drawled.

Ordinarily Steele would be all for letting everyone give Hancock shit. The bastard deserved it for all the grief he’d caused them in the past. But their focus was drifting and they were fast running out of time. They’d land in an hour and then they’d only have a few hours to scope out a vast amount of territory and then wire Maren and wait for the call and hope like hell they’d covered the area where he wanted to meet.

“Cut the crap and let’s focus on the goddamn mission,” Steele snapped.

The cabin went silent. Maren rubbed her hands tiredly over her temples, pressing and massaging, anxiety written all over her face. Steele was in a no-win situation. If he did nothing and didn’t allow Maren to follow through with Caldwell’s instructions, her parents would pay the price and Maren would never forgive Steele for that. She’d live with guilt for the rest of her life and be tortured by the fact that she could have saved them.

But if he let her go, if he placed her in the direct line of danger, he risked losing her and that wasn’t something he could dwell on without losing his mind.

She clutched his cell phone like a lifeline, and from time to time she stared down at it as if replaying that last conversation over and over in her mind. He wanted to comfort her. Wanted to wrap himself around her, a barrier between her and the rest of the world. But his focus had to be on a way to prevent harm to both her and her parents.

They landed at the small airport in St. Augustine, Florida, and quickly gathered at the waiting vehicles Sam had arranged. Donovan had tagged every airport within a hundred-mile radius with aerial photos and he was studying each one, trying to determine where Caldwell would be making his run with Maren.

The problem was, there were simply too many possibilities for them to cover. Until Maren got that phone call, they were flying blind.

Sam made contact with the local city and county police departments and had Resnick pave the way for cooperation. Resnick wanted Caldwell almost as badly as KGI wanted him, and he was eager to facilitate his capture.

“Given the time parameters he gave Maren, the best bet is either Flagler County or Craig Municipal if he’s planning to fly out of here,” Donovan said. “I’ve checked on any private landing strips and there’s one possibility. It’s rural. Only accommodates Cessnas, no jets. Not big enough. My bet is on that one. The other two are too public even though they’re small.”

“How far?” Steele demanded.

“Thirty minutes and that’s hauling ass.”

Steele nodded and then turned to Maren, gathering her in his arms. “Hold tight, Maren. We’ll get through this.”

She gripped him back, clutching desperately at him. “I hope you’re right, Steele.”

The wait was interminable. Everyone was on edge. Restless. Maren checked her watch every few minutes and the closer it got to the eleven-hour mark, the paler she grew and the more agitated she became.

When the phone rang, she jumped, staring down at the phone, stark fear outlined in her features. Conversation ceased and every single eye was on Maren as she shakily brought the phone to her ear.

“Hello,” she said.

Steele was proud of the firm tone she used. He knew she was scared out of her mind, but she sounded crisp and businesslike on the phone.

She listened a long moment and then said, “Don’t f**k me on this, Tristan. I swear to God, if you don’t keep your end of the deal, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”