"Everything is there, including your Glock."
I breathe a sigh of relief, but it's short-lived.
Flower. I need to go rescue her.
"Kyle saw your Semper Fi tattoo on your arm."
I glance at my ink then her.
"It's why he said we needed to bring you here. He said we can't leave a man behind." Her face lights up talking about him. "He'll be back in a few minutes."
"I appreciate—"
"Sadie!" The door slams.
"In the kitchen."
A thirty-something, blond-haired, blue-eyed man with a scar on his cheek and a prosthetic arm enters the room. He holds his hand out. "Kyle Lane."
"Hunter Ward."
"Good to see you're awake."
"Thank you for your assistance. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to rescue my woman." I try to rise again, but he stops me.
"I figured as much. You haven't eaten in several days. Fill your belly, and we'll figure out a better plan than you taking off with no resources."
"Got my Glock," I say, patting my bag.
"Yeah. It would be better if you had a phone, transportation, and backup, too. Don't you think?" He arches his eyebrows.
"They took my woman."
He nods. "I know. But I'm right. Don't do something stupid right now. You'll end up armless." He holds his prosthetic up.
Silence.
"You can laugh. It's a horrible joke I tell people," Kyle says.
"Sadie said you were a medic?"
"Yep. Marines. Take it you were, too, from your tat?"
"Yeah. Look, I appreciate everything, but I need to leave. They—"
"Torres took her. You know where?" he asks.
"Belize. My guess is Belize City."
"Why there?"
"It's where her ex, who's obsessed with her, lives. He's a crooked politician."
Sadie puts a plate of spaghetti and garlic bread in front of me. "Eat."
My stomach growls again. I'm torn between eating and leaving.
Kyle holds up my fork. "Eat, and we'll create a plan. I've got connections. You'll get to Belize a lot faster if you sit and eat versus leaving now."
Kid's got a good point.
Sadie brings two more plates to the table and sits with us.
"Why are you in Honduras?" I ask.
"Cheap to live. Plus, we aren't far from the ocean," Sadie responds.
"Hmmm." I take my first bite, and the garlic and tomatoes burst with flavor in my mouth. After I gobble up half the plate, I put my fork down. "Tell me about your connections."
"I think you should go by boat. The earthquake messed a lot of roads up. Plus, you can navigate the borders easier."
The memory of Vanessa celebrating after our border crossings pops up, and my heart shakes.
"Can I leave tonight?"
"Not sure. I need to make a call. You should have a phone though."
"Don't have time."
He gets up, opens a cabinet, and throws a cell on the table.
"Where did you get that?"
Sadie nervously glances at him then me.
"What? Is it stolen?"
"No, not stolen. But we kind of have a side business going on..." Kyle says.
I snort. "Like an illegal one?"
Silence.
"Hey, how did you know it was Torres that took Vanessa?"
"Everyone knows what Torres looks like. The poverty is bad here. More people than you would ever imagine are mixed up in his cartel."
"Including my boss," Sadie grumbles.
"Your boss?"
"Yeah. Our hotel is a significant drop-off location. Every few months, Torres comes and pays us a visit, too."
My gut flips. Out of all the hotels we could have chosen, we walked right into the enemy's lair.
"I have to get to Belize City. Can you make the phone call now, please?" I ask.
Kyle nods and points. "You eat. I'll call." He leaves the room, and I shove the rest of the food in my mouth.
"Thank you, ma'am. That hit the spot."
"Do you want more?"
"No, thank you. I really just need to get going."
Kyle comes in with his hand over the phone. "We'll leave tomorrow, early morning." He exits the room again.
I sigh. I'm grateful for all Sadie and Kyle have done, but I can't get to my Flower fast enough.
The thought of her with Carlos makes my stomach churn. But the knowledge of what he could be doing to her stirs my vengeance so that I'm dizzy again.
"Whoa. Maybe you should lie down," Sadie suggests.
Kyle comes back into the room. He splits in two, and I have to shut my eyes and hold on to the table.
"I think it's best if you stay a few more days. You've got a nasty concussion."
"I'm fine. Can you show me how this phone works?"
"Sure." Kyle spends a half hour going over how to get on the internet and other features. I don't think I'll need a phone, but it's not a bad thing to have.
"I've got Marine buddies up in Belize. They can help you."
"I'm good. I don't need help."
He crosses his arms. "Now the concussion has gone to your brain, all right."
"No offense, but—"
"You're not going to be able just to walk in and grab her. You know that every mission needs a team."
Team. I wish I had my guys with me right now. I can't even get their advice.
"If you're dealing with a politician, they are going to be guarded. He'll have protection on her."
I put my hands over my face to try and quiet my mind against my pounding skull so I can think.
"I'm right," he states and I can't deny it.
I groan. "Kid, I thought you were a medic?"
He grunts. "You don't think I got my arm blown off from the vet's hospital, do you?"
"Point taken. Where did that happen?"
"Afghanistan."
"Sorry about that."
His face hardens. "Men who don't stay patient and wait for the right opportunity make mistakes."
"You're right. But every second she's with him is one second too long. I need to get her out of there."
"You make the wrong move and she's dead. And you can't do this alone."
I hold my head in my hands again, trying to think, but everything is fuzzy. "Who do you know in Belize?"
"My old sergeant is up there."
"Who's that?"
"His name is Mack Griston."
"Mack's in Belize?"
"Yes, you know him?"
He hazed me in boot camp.
"Yeah. He served in Iraq with me for several months."
"Well, he's in Belize, and he's got a group of team members who all retired there. We would have moved there, too, but it was a little more expensive than we were comfortable with, based on my work limitations and all." He holds up his arm. "Should I give him a call?"
Mack Griston's a hardcore, trained sniper. The guys call me a hothead, but he's certifiably crazy in my book. If he hadn't focused on protecting the country, I'm pretty sure he would have ended up in jail for murder. He has severe rage issues, and everyone in our unit worked hard to keep him focused on steering it toward the enemy and not the team. And he's one of the best shooters I know.