Maya Banks - Forged in Steele

Steele’s lips tightened and he swallowed back a snarl of rage. “Anything else that points to evidence that Maren is being held on his estate?”

“We have an eyewitness,” Donovan said grimly. “A child. Not the most reliable witness in the world, but he sounds believable to me and it was pretty clear what he saw.”

“Tell me,” Steele demanded.

“He saw a guy drive up to Maren’s clinic right before closing time. He was waiting when she came out. They spoke and the kid said Maren looked scared. But then he said the man picked Maren up, threw her over his shoulder and then stuffed her into his vehicle and drove away.”

“Fuck,” Cole murmured. “That’s pretty solid evidence. I vote we go in.”

Steele turned his attention to Baker and Renshaw. “What do you have for me?”

“It’s not good,” Baker said. “As Cole said, high concrete walls surround the main house. Two gates, both heavily guarded. We have a few options.”

“Give them to me,” Steele said tersely.

“Well, we can blow our way through the concrete walls. Going to take a fuckload of explosives and it still only gives us one way out unless you want to split up and go in one way and blow our way out the other. We can bust through the gates, but again, they’d know immediately we were there and it would still take time to go through the compound and secure it. Especially since we don’t know where the fuck he’s holding Maren.”

Steele and Donovan exchanged uneasy glances. Steele wasn’t liking either option.

“Or,” Renshaw said. “We can do a helo drop into the compound. Hit them hard and fast, load the chopper and get the hell out. P.J.? Cole? You guys detect any rocket launchers? Think they’re that armed?”

P.J. frowned. “Not that I saw. He has heavy firepower, but all I laid eyes on were the rifles, and he has plenty of those. We’d be dumbasses not to plan for the worst, though.”

“Where are we going to get our hands on a chopper big enough to carry all of us and offer enough protection that we don’t get our asses shot off when we’re lifting off and getting the fuck out of there?” Baker asked.

Donovan grimaced. “Damn good question.”

“Fuck it all,” Steele swore. “This is not the way I wanted this to go down.”

“I know we all want to go in and get her out, but we have to be smart about this,” Donovan said. “We need to call in another team, have Rio get us a chopper. He has the connections and could get it done a hell of a lot faster than us trying to get a contact locally. He could be here in a few hours if we call him up now. For that matter, Nathan and Joe and their team could be here not long after that. If we wait twenty-four hours before we go in, we’ll have enough manpower and planning time to ensure this goes smoothly without getting us or Maren killed in the process.”

“And what is Maren enduring in the meantime?” Steele said in a deadly soft voice.

P.J. flinched and nodded her agreement.

Donovan ran a hand through his hair and exhaled in a deep rush. “We don’t have another option. I hate the idea of not knowing what that son of a bitch is subjecting Maren to, but the very last thing we need is to go in and get our asses handed to us, get ourselves and Maren killed. If I had to choose between her staying where she is another day and suffering that bastard’s attention or going in prematurely and getting her and us killed, I think you know what my choice is.”

Steele turned away and clenched his fingers into fists as helpless rage boiled through his veins. Fuck it all but they were in an impossible situation. It brought to mind too readily the time when P.J. had been in the hands of a goddamn monster and the entire team had been forced to listen to her being brutalized and were helpless to stop it. He never wanted to feel that again. Ever.

And now they faced a very similar situation. In a lot of ways it was worse because they didn’t know what kind of situation Maren was in. They were flying blind and could only hope like hell that she wasn’t being subjected to any kind of abuse.

It made him crazy to imagine what she could be going through. To imagine that bastard’s hands on her. Hurting her. Her being helpless and without hope. He’d seen the very worst people had to offer. He’d taken down a lot of assholes in his time. But he’d never felt this kind of blinding fury. It rattled him. Made him second-guess every decision he was making. And Steele was nothing if not decisive. He’d always been able to calculate each situation with complete cool and calm.

All he could see was Maren’s sweet, smiling face, and he knew he wouldn’t rest until he had her back. Safe. Where she belonged.

“What’s it going to be, Steele?” Donovan asked quietly. “It’s your call. But whatever we do, we need to move fast. There’s a hell of lot to do in two days’ time.”

Steele turned back around, his jaw still locked tight in frustration. He blew out a deep breath. No, he didn’t want to wait another fucking day to go in and get Maren the hell out of there. But he had to play this smart. They needed more firepower. They were up against a hell of a lot for one team—no matter how good they were—to handle. And as badly as he wanted to get Maren to safety, he wasn’t going to risk her life to achieve that objective.

“Call Sam. Get the other team on the way. Then we need to contact Rio and see what he can help us with.” He glanced up at Dolphin. “Get me a layout of the compound. We have zero room for errors. This has to be mapped out to the nth degree.”

“I’ll put in a call to Resnick,” Donovan said.

The entire group went silent. Steele swung his gaze to Donovan, his eyes narrowing.

“Why the hell would you call Resnick?” Steele demanded.

“A guy like Mendoza is in some deep shit. No way he’s clean. With the kind of manpower he’s fronting? Who the hell has a fucking army guarding his residence complete with watchtowers and manned gates? Only someone with enemies and a reason to fear attack has that kind of setup.”

“So where does Resnick come into the picture? I still don’t like it. Every time Resnick pokes his nose in, it gets too fucking complicated. The last thing I want is Uncle Sam breathing down our necks when we’re trying to get Maren away from some batshit-crazy kidnapper.”

“Hooyah,” Cole muttered.

“Hell yeah, hooyah,” Dolphin chimed in.

“That even gets a hooyah from me,” P.J. said.

Baker and Resnick both voiced their agreements.

Donovan held up his hands, much like Sam always did when things got out of hand and he wanted calm.

“Before this dissolves into outright mutiny, here’s the thing. It’s possible Resnick has intel on Mendoza that can help us. If he can lend us resources? Even better. It would certainly help us out if we had Uncle Sam in our pockets. Maren is too important for us not to pull out all the stops and avail ourselves of every advantage we can.”

The group went silent. Donovan had scored a huge point and he knew it. When he put it like that, they could hardly argue over whether to consult with Resnick. If it gave them the upper hand with Mendoza, they’d be fools not to utilize him.

“Okay, you call Resnick,” Steele conceded. “I’ll get on the horn with Rio first and get him headed this way and tell him we need a chopper. If he has any team members he can reach and get here in time, I’ll pull them along with the other team. Cole, while Donovan and I are making those calls, I need you to contact Sam. Brief him on the situation and tell him we need the other team as fast as they can haul ass down here.”

“You got it, boss man,” Cole said. “Let’s get this show on the road already.”

STEELE simmered with impatience as everyone reported in two miles from Mendoza’s compound. Rio had been the first to arrive, his right-hand man, Terrence, with him. Diego had come in just a few hours behind Rio. Steele could only assume the rest of Rio’s team hadn’t been able to make it on such short notice.

Nathan and Joe had flown in with their team and were accompanied by Sam. Only Garrett and Ethan remained behind at the KGI headquarters. Sam had pulled out all the stops for this mission. Maren was one of them, and they weren’t going to rest until she was safe.

And finally, Resnick had arrived, accompanied by Kyle Phillips and his black ops team that worked for Resnick. Steele had no idea if Kyle’s team was government sanctioned or if they were completely off the books. Steele’s money was on the latter. He was positive that his tax dollars paid the black ops team’s salary, but that money, like so much else, disappeared into a black hole and was recorded as some bullshit expenditure courtesy of the U.S. government.

Resnick and Kyle Phillips hurried up to where Steele, Rio, Donovan and Sam stood. The teams gathered loosely around so they could listen in on what Resnick had to say. As usual, Resnick had a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth and as soon as he finished one, he was quick to light up another. A more nervous, agitated bastard, Steele had never met. He still wasn’t too keen on the fact that KGI had kissed and made up with Resnick after he’d fucked them over in the past. But it was Sam’s call whether to use him. Only now Steele had more of a personal stake, whether he liked that or not. Maren wasn’t just under his skin. She was inside him permanently. She belonged to him. He’d staked his claim whether she realized it or not.

He’d listen to what Resnick had to say, but this was still his fucking mission and it would be done his way. Whatever Resnick had for them, it must be pretty damn important because Resnick had refused to say shit over the phone. Instead, he’d hopped a damn plane with his black ops group and hustled down to give his report in person. They didn’t have time for this shit. Steele was itching to move in. The sooner they quit fucking around with reports and intel, the sooner Maren would be back in his arms, where she was safe. And he wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving her unprotected ever again.