Honor and Duty are turned down, they’ll stay here and sort out the flight details and where the plane will land. The final addition to the party who are going is Grinch, who’ll be there as a mechanic on the plane. They don’t want to be stranded in Mexico with an engine fault.
Pip walks in when Snatcher finishes choosing, it seems he’s been the one to contact Devil.
“He’s not happy,” he announces. “But I persuaded him he needed the additional firepower. Preach, you got the weapons sorted?”
“Rascal?” Preacher, getting straight on it, asks, “You ready to help me load up some extra armoury?”
Of course, the answer’s in the affirmative.
I sit, never in my life feeling so useless as I do now. I watch my brothers as they prepare to move out, wasting no time to go to get my woman for me.
Swift comes over, her eyes surprisingly soft. “We’ll bring her back.” Just four words, but there’s such commitment in her eyes I will myself to try to believe.
“Hold on, Brother,” Road offers, joining his woman.
“Not going to fail again,” Cowboy tells me earnestly, being the next to stop by.
One by one they file past, each with a promise they’ll bring her back to me. I’m surprised when Snatcher follows them. He’s the fuckin’ prez, he should be here, not on a mission to Mexico that might see them all dead.
“Snatcher,” I hold out my left hand, and he takes it, “take me. I’ll wait on the plane—”
Abruptly he shuts my plea off. “No can do. You need looking after, and that will detract from the mission. You’ve got to stay here.”
“Shouldn’t you?”
Snatcher looks after his men, and the woman, who’ve just exited the room, then back down at me. His mouth quirks. “Just trust we know what we’re doing, okay?” With those parting words, he’s gone.
Silence rings around the clubroom broken only by Brute behind the bar putting glasses away.
“Want to come to the comms room?”
I start and look over my shoulder. Honor has re-entered the room. “Duty’s sorting out the flight plan and filing it. I want to look at what Mouse sent me. We’re going to find a way to take Gun down. Revenge will be fuckin’ sweet, I promise you.”
Planning revenge won’t stop me worrying about Cat, nor about the bulk of the club who’ve left on a mission solely for me.
Gun. The man I’ve come to hate with a passion. Things are starting to point to him being responsible for Pooh’s death, and almost mine. I could imagine him in the helicopter egging Smythe on, even if the lieutenant commander wasn’t in on it himself. He could have been the man to take Nazia’s life, he was in the vicinity at the time. And it’s not too much of a stretch to believe he had a hand in taking my old team out. And that’s not forgetting half-killing me, and kidnapping Cat.
He’s an evil man. While I settle beside Honor, I’m planning Gun’s death in my mind.
He’s going to die hard.
30
Stormy…
Twenty-four hours can be a fucking long time, going fast or slow depending on what you’re doing. Hanging around waiting for the go ahead for a mission can make even minutes crawl by. Conversely, hours go flying by fast when you’re doing something you enjoy.
Waiting for news about Cat, the time goes past just one minute at a time. Sixty long seconds when I have to remind myself to keep breathing.
Pip had given me the news they’d arrived and were scoping out the location. Finally, I’d got the update they were going in.
I can imagine they’re proceeding with caution, and will be radio silent from now. But I’d prefer to know exactly what they are doing, and hate being kept in the dark. What’s the compound like, how many guards? I wanted to be on hand to give advice.
All I can do is sit back and try to convince myself to believe what deep down I’ve always known. I can trust the Satan’s Devils.
Without Cowboy here it’s a matter of getting food for ourselves, but I don’t bother invading his domain, I’ve no appetite at all. If I suspend living for just a few hours, maybe that will bring Cat home. It’s crazy, but that’s the way my brain is thinking.
I’ve never been dependent on anyone, not like I am on her. She’s as important as air to me. If I was a praying man, I’d send up a prayer right now, but all my life I’ve felt there’s no omnipotent being watching over me, or if so, he’d been looking the other way too many times for my thinking. He’d never been there to halt my father’s fists, or to stop my mother leaving. I wish I had faith now. Instead I can only trust in my flesh and blood brothers to find Cat and return her to me.
“Here. Made you some coffee. You want your painkillers?”
I thank Igor automatically and shake my head. No, I want as clear a head as possible, and these aching injuries? Well, those I’ll suffer gladly as though by punishing myself I’ll be saving her.
Honor and I had pulled an all-nighter. I think he wanted to sleep, but when he saw I wasn’t giving in, he stayed up as well. Now he’s coming in yawning, his hair wet from a shower.
He examines the results of a program that had kept running. “I reckon that’s all of them now. All the haunts of Jeffrey Morgan. We should be able to close in on him.”
I tap the screen I’m looking at. “I’ve found offshore accounts.” The size of the figures make me grow cold. “Deposits started a few months before Pooh was killed and continue up to when Gun left the SEALs. Then there’s a short gap, a huge payment, then more money rolling in.”
“You think he had to lie low for a while?”
“Could be,” I agree. “Maybe someone was getting too close?”
“Hmm.” Honor looks thoughtful. “What happened to Marjan, Nazia’s sister? Could she have been a threat to him? I think you’re right, he killed Nazia himself.”
“Maybe he got to her too. She was,” I think back, “twelve or thirteen at the time. But kids grow up fast in that environment, they have to. Maybe Nazia told her something, and maybe he did kill her, or maybe she got away.”
“If she had info, she would have come forward.”
“Maybe not. I mean, how could she know who to trust?”
We both ponder that for a moment and are still deep in thought when the door bangs open.
“They’ve got her,” Pip announces, sounding out of breath. “They’re bringing her home.”
Swinging around too fast, I make my head swim. “Say again?”
“Cat’s safe, Stormy. They’ve got her. Went like clockwork according to Snatcher.”
“She’s alive?” I pull my stick toward me, wanting to stand up as though being seated isn’t good enough for this momentous news. I don’t get far, and slump back down again. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
Pip’s eyes become hooded. “Physically, she seems uninjured. But mentally…” he shakes his head. “She had to be sedated as no one could get close.”
I rest my head into my working hand, as pain of the emotional sort rushes through me.
“You got this Stormy.” Pip comes closer, his fingers land on my shoulder and squeeze. “She’s coming back to you. It might take time, she might be dealing with some bad shit, but you’ll have her home. You’ve got this.”