Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

X avier wove in and out of the heavy Chicago traffic, his mind running as fast as his bike. Twenty-four hours here, and he was no closer to finding Jazz than he had been in Seattle. Kate had told Ash to look at the Byrne family out of Chicago. There were over two thousand Byrnes in the city. Needle meet big-assed haystack.

He’d investigated over fifty of them so far. He’d found Realtors, doctors, restaurant owners, teachers, grocery store owners, mechanics, and a dry cleaners. Not one of them looked remotely suspicious.

As soon as his plane had touched down, he’d taken a taxi to the closest BMW motorcycle store. For getting in and out of traffic quickly and going places other vehicles couldn’t go, nothing beat a motorcycle, and in his opinion, nothing beat a BMW for speed and quality. He had one back home, and now he owned another one. Jazz had mentioned that she’d like to go riding with him sometime, and he wanted to make that happen.

He just had to find her.

Ash and the rest of the team had arrived a few hours ago. They were at the hotel setting up, but he hadn’t been able to sit still. While every Byrne he’d checked into looked clean, not knowing why Jazz had been taken made it a lot harder to figure out what to consider as suspicious.

Kate’s reticence about giving them intel to help find Jazz was infuriating. Xavier didn’t care that she’d sworn that what she was withholding wouldn’t help find her. She was keeping something from them that pertained to Jazz, and that wasn’t right.

When this was over and Jazz was safe, they were going to have to confront Kate. She might not be an official OZ operative, but for years they had relied on each other to provide intel and assistance as necessary. Not being able to trust Kate Walker hit at the very heart of who Option Zero was and what they fought for every day.

An unusual feeling of helplessness washed over him. Jazz had been taken almost two weeks ago, and other than a name and a city, they had absolutely nothing to go on. Two of the men who’d abducted her were dead, which showed whoever was responsible didn’t have a problem with killing.

Why she’d been taken, who had taken her, what, if anything, was being done to her were all still mysteries. Option Zero was one of the most powerful covert ops organizations in the world. They had taken down terrorists, prevented wars, and destroyed dictators. And yet, one of their own had been taken, and it was as if they were fumbling around in the dark, having no idea which direction to head.

Jazz was counting on them to find her. He knew she was strong and resilient. If she could get away, she would. Her size and beauty took nothing away from her strength and courage. She’d had his back more times than he could count, and he trusted her with his life.

And she trusted him with hers. That was one of the most frustrating things. Jazz needed him, was depending on him to find her, and he had no idea how to do that.

He thought about all the missed opportunities he’d had to tell her how he felt about her. He’d let fear of rejection hold him back. If he’d told her he was falling for her, and she hadn’t felt the same way, he had known their partnership would be ruined. All that fear was gone now. The moment he found her, she would have no doubts about where he stood. If she didn’t feel the same way? Then he’d do his very best to convince her otherwise.

The vibration of the phone in his pocket jerked his attention away from his worry. Serena was supposed to call with a whole new list of Byrnes to check out. Quickly turning into the parking lot of a convenience store, he turned off his engine and grabbed his phone. Not looking at the screen, he clicked the answer icon and growled, “What’ve you got?”

A weak, whispering voice said, “Xavier?”

Every cell in his body stiffened as his heart stalled in his chest. “Jazz?” he whispered. “Is that you?”

“Xavier…I need help.”

“Where are you?”

“Not sure. Close to Chicago…I think.”

“Okay. Hang on, baby. I’ll trace the call.” Quickly putting Jazz on hold, he punched in Serena’s number. The second she answered, he said, “I’ve got Jazz on the phone. Can you trace the call?”

“Yes! I’m on it.”

Returning to Jazz, he said, “Jazz…you there?” When there was no answer, his heart fell. Had she passed out? “Jazz! Can you hear me?”

“Xavier…I need…”

“We’re on the way, baby. Just hang on.”

“It hurts…”

Hearing those words almost broke him. “I’m on the way, Jazz. Are you safe?”

“Yes…think so… Please hurry.”

His phone pinged with a text from Serena with an address and a map of Jazz’s location. Another text followed: We’re jumping on the chopper and will be right behind you.

Needing no more encouragement, Xavier hit the starter on his bike and took off. He was grateful he’d packed his helmet since he was able to turn on the Bluetooth and continue talking to Jazz.

“Hey, you there?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Feeling woozy.”

Since he needed to keep her awake and talking, he asked, “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Not sure. Some men grabbed me in Seattle. Brought me to Chicago.”

Weaving around a slow-moving van, Xavier asked, “Do you know who they worked for?”

No answer.

“Jazz!” he shouted. “Stay awake!”

“Sorry…I…so sleepy.”

“I know you are, baby, but you’ve got to stay awake. Can you do that?”

“I’ll…try.”

In the five minutes or so they’d been talking, her voice had gotten progressively more faint. He had to keep her awake.

“Concentrate, Jazz. Tell me what happened.”

“Okay…okay… Um… I woke up in a bedroom in Chicago. A creepy old man came in. Never told me his name.”

“Okay. Did he say what he wanted?”

“No. But he knew me…my real name.”

Then this had to be related to her life before she’d joined Option Zero. No one outside the OZ family knew their real names. They used aliases on every mission.

“Can you describe the guy? What he looked like?” When she didn’t answer, Xavier feared the worst. “Jazz!”

Still no answer. Had she lost consciousness? Was she even alive?

He checked the GPS screen. He was still eight minutes out at least. The highway was filled with midday lunch traffic, and while his bike could dodge and weave, and he could drive like a bat out of hell, that wasn’t going to get him there right this minute.

Hoping that some part of her was still aware and could hear him, Xavier did the only thing he knew to do.

“Jazz,” he whispered, “I don’t know if you can still hear me, but I need to tell you this. You’re the most important person in my life. Just…hang on, baby. Please, hang on.”

Hearing a thump-thumping roar, he looked up and spotted the OZ chopper. It would get to her faster, and he felt a swell of relief. Gideon was on the helicopter. Though they all had some emergency medical training, Gideon was their go-to guy for anything more complicated. He would get to Jazz first and be able to help her.

As he watched the chopper fly over him and continue toward their destination, he prayed with all the hope and passion in his heart that they would get there in time.

The minute Xavier skidded into the parking lot of an abandoned-looking building, any hope that Jazz would be in less serious condition than he feared disappeared the minute he saw Serena on her knees beside Jazz’s head, talking to her while Gideon was on the other side, hooking her up to an IV. It was hard to believe that the small, huddled figure lying on the ground was his partner. Blood pooled around her body, and even before he got close enough to see her face, he could tell she was hideously pale.

Jumping off his bike, he ran forward, shouting, “How is she?”

Gideon shook his head. “She’s lost a lot of blood. She was conscious when we arrived but passed out seconds later.”

“Why is she bleeding?”

“Three gunshot wounds.”

His legs no longer able to support him, he fell to his knees beside her. Some bastard had shot her three times? How the hell was she even still alive?

“Quinn?”

He turned to see Ash, who was standing close to the building where Xavier assumed Jazz had been held. The rage on his boss’s face was telling. Whatever he’d seen had infuriated him.

“Go with Gideon and Serena to the hospital,” he said. “Eve and I will finish up here and meet you there.”

Though he had a thousand questions about what Ash and Eve had seen, Xavier knew his first priority was Jazz.

“Okay,” Gideon said, “we can’t wait any longer. Xavier, you lift her. Be careful of the wounds—right hip, right thigh, and right calf. Serena, you hold on to the IV.”

His heart pounding with anguish and fury, Xavier gently lifted Jazz into his arms. He had carried her once before when she’d been injured a couple of years ago and remembered how light she’d been. That was nothing to how she felt now. Not only had the bastards shot her repeatedly, it looked like they’d starved her, too.

Serena got on the chopper first and held the IV steady while Xavier climbed into the open space and carefully placed Jazz onto a blanket someone had already laid out.

Gideon jumped into the cockpit, and they were airborne in less than a minute. As he looked down at Jazz’s pale, still face, Xavier made a silent promise that he would find who had done this to her, and he would end them.