“What’s our deadline?” Digger inquired.
“Forty-eight hours.” Which meant they had two days to get Falcon and the others the hell out of there.
Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, Bones asked, “Did Colt inform authorities when he got the call?”
“He did,” Rafe decided to share that fact with the group.
What he didn’t share waswhichauthorities Coulter Morgan had contacted. Authorities who’d immediately called Rafe to apprise him of the situation.
Another story for another day.
“Do we have an LKL?” This came from Digger.
“We do.” Rafe spun his computer monitor around to reveal a satellite image of the group’s last known location. “Their last known location was here. The route is supposed to take them up over this hill, around this bend for a U-turn, and then back to the business’s location, where they started. We know the group made it to this spot”—he pointed to the screen—“because that’s where a local farmer discovered the twelve abandoned dune buggies.”
Apollo studied the screen closely. “Anything else left behind?”
“Only their helmets and a pair of water shoes. Small, so we’re assuming they belonged to one of the women.”
“Anyone claim responsibility?” Digger looked up from the screen. “A militia group using the hostages for a political statement? Or do we think this is all about the cash?”
“So far, the evidence points to money.”
“How are we playing this thing out, Boss?” Bones stared back at him. “Are the locals going to let us come and set up camp, or do we do this thing under the wire?”
“Local authorities can’t be trusted. Too many have connections to Emilio Garcia.”
“Garcia…” Apollo let the name roll off his tongue. “That the guy that’s been in the news lately? The presidential candidate who’s promising to bring change to the DR?”
“The very same.”
“Any particular reason we shouldn’t trust him?”
One giant one.“Garcia is a career politician,” Rafe informed them. “He’s also believed to be the head of the El Sur Cartel.”
His office erupted inwhat-the-fucks.
“Let me guess…” Apollo gritted his teeth. “We can’t get any evidence to prove it, and the people there are too afraid to go against him.”
Rafe gave the man a nod. “Got it in one.”
“Why isn’t that part on the news?” Digger grumbled.
Bones answered with a quipped, “Fucker probably owns the news stations, too.” Then, with a loud exhale, the former Marine let his frustration fly. “Enough of this bullshit. We know where Falcon and the others were last seen and when, and you have a bead on his tracker. So what the hell are we waiting for?”
Right on cue, Rafe’s secured line began to ring.
Answering, he listened as the man on the line informed him, “Sir, the jet is fueled and ready.”
“Thank you.” He ended the call and looked at Bones and the others. Grabbing his keys, phone, and jacket from the back of his chair, he said, “We’re not waiting on a damn thing. Grab your weapons and gear, gentlemen. We’re going to get our boy back.”
* * *
“I can’t believethis is happening.” Avery pulled away enough to turn her watery eyes up to meet his.
Neither could Garrett.
Holding her trembling body closer to his, they swayed as the cargo truck they were in hit a bump. With his back against the vehicle’s hard, inner wall, he’d kept her cradled in his arms since they were forced at gunpoint to climb inside with a handful of others.