16. Vapor

16 VAPOR

Koen

The nurse had just left, letting us know Mom was in her room and we’d be able to see her soon. Visiting hours were almost over, however, the staff was kind enough to allow for an extension. It probably had more to do with my brother’s position in the police department than anything, but I’d take it. I needed to see with my own two eyes that she was doing well.

“You and your wife can go first,” Riley threw out.

I knew from the glint in his eye, he wasn’t being salty. He was giving me shit and enjoying the hell out of every moment of it. Any response I was about to give stilled on my tongue when the waiting room door flew open, banging so hard against the wall I was sure there would be a hole.

Jett stood in the doorway, breaths labored and his eyes completely unfocused.

“What the hell?” Willow ran to his side. “Jett? What’s wrong?”

Nudging her out of the way, I grabbed his chin with two fingers while simultaneously assessing him for injury. The only thing I saw was fear. And pain. So much of both seeped from his pores. That’s when I realized Jade wasn’t behind him.

“Where’s your sister?” He flinched at the venom in my voice.

“H-h-e- t-took h-her.” His teeth chattered so hard it was difficult to understand him, but I did. Then my world flipped upside down.

I couldn’t move—couldn’t breathe.

“Who, Jett?” Riley barked as I tried to contain the panic threatening to break me apart.

“A-a man. By the elevators.”

“He’s in shock.” Willow approached, taking his wrist in her hands to check his pulse. “I’ll get some juice.”

“Snap the fuck out of it, Koen. You need to pull your shit together so we can get information from Jett.” All at once, the room slammed back into focus. Riley was in my face, teeth gritted. “We will find her.”

Damn straight we would. There was no way I’d even consider another alternative. Jade was my life, and I’d burn this city to the motherfucking ground to get her back in my arms. Full stop. That fucker was breathing his last bit of free air.

“Sit before you fall.” I gently applied pressure to Jett’s shoulders, guiding his trembling body to the nearest seat. Then I followed, shoving his head between his bent knees as I demanded, “Breathe, kid.”

“Jesus.” Willow rushed back in, handing me a plastic cup filled with an orange drink. “Give him this. The sugar will help.”

Tipping the cup to his lips, I instructed him to take small sips. At the same time, I heard Riley snarling orders on his phone in the background to whoever was unlucky enough to be on the other end of the line.

“Oh God, Jade.”

Jett cried out, jolting forward. His tear-filled brown eyes––the same shade as his sister’s––flared wide with some sort of realization. They quickly scanned the room, searching left then right, looking for what? I didn’t know. Scrambling to his feet, he swayed with the sudden change in position. With a hand on his elbow, I steadied him.

“Jett, I need you to tell us everything you remember about this guy. Height. Weight. Any distinguishing marks like tattoos?”

“I need my laptop.” He broke free of my hold, dashing across the room to his backpack. “I tagged her.”

“You what?” Riley asked, the phone still at his ear.

“AirTags. I got them for my birthday.” He yanked his computer out of the bag, flipping open the lid and powering it up. His fingers flew over the keyboard. “With all the shit happening with my parents, I always kept one in my pocket. Just in case.”

“What does that have to do with your sister?” Willow knelt beside him, placing a hand on his knee.

“You tagged her.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact, which he confirmed.

“I tagged her.”

“Smart fucking kid,” Riley muttered.

“Pull it up, Jett.”

Putting a knee to the floor behind him, I stared at the mostly black screen. Seconds passed. Minutes. Then a map of the city popped up with a red flashing dot in the middle.

“Holy fuck,” I wheezed. “We’ve got her.”

It wasn’t exact, but it gave us a starting point for the search .

Riley lowered to his haunches in front of us. “Jett, send that link to my phone.” He rattled off a bunch of numbers, then his steely gaze found mine.

“I’m on this.” He opened his mouth to argue, but there was no way he’d win this one and he knew it. “I’ll call my boss if I have to. She’ll rain down holy hell, along with the full weight of the FBI, so fast your head will spin.”

“We do this right,” he acquiesced. “As much as I’d love to go in guns ablazing, we have to play it smart. My man is on his way to look at the security feeds. We need to know who’s behind this, then we’ll know why.”

“Agreed. But he better be quick, otherwise I’m vapor. And my guns won’t be blazing, they’ll be a motherfucking inferno.”

The hospital security office and the one next to it had turned into ground zero. A half a dozen SFPD drug task force officers filled the space within ten minutes of Riley’s call. There was enough firepower in these two rooms to supply a small army, not that it mattered. Nothing did until we had a firm location and the person responsible.

“Do not give into the darkness, brother. Fight it back.” Keaton’s voice was hard to hear above the flurry of activity going on around me. “We’re on the way. Me, Henley, and Duncan will be there in less than four hours.”

“See you soon.” I hung up.

Four hours would be too late, though I didn’t need to tell him that. The chances of us finding her unscathed dwindled with every tick of the clock.

When the older man at the console pulled up the video from outside of the elevator, Jett practically shoved him out of the way. The kid was on a mission and far be it from me to stop him. Right then his determination was just about the only thing keeping my sanity in check.

All eyes were glued to the large monitor as Jett fast-forwarded through hours of video until he found what we needed. Then I watched helplessly while my Angel fought like hell against a man I’d never laid eyes on before. A man who’d regret the day he was born after I got ahold of him.

“I should’ve helped her.”

The scene continued to play in the background as I split my focus between it, and the sixteen-year-old who was on the verge of breaking.

“Are you seeing the same thing I am, kid?” Laying my hand on his shoulder, I squeezed. “Look at that monitor. There was nothing you could do except what you did. You came to me. And you did it smart. Slipping that tracker in her back pocket was fucking genius, Jett.”

“Wait. Back up.” Riley leaned close. “There was a clear shot of his face.”

The guy was solidly built with dark hair, cold eyes, and a nasty scar which bisected his left eyebrow.

“Son of a bitch.” He shoved away from the desk, turning to his second-in-command, Reed. “Get eyes on Macha. Now!”

“Macha?” It all started to click into place. “As in the leader of Los Tredos? Victor Macha?”

“Yeah. That’s Brian Sweets. He’s lower-level muscle for the gang.”

“This isn’t about me, is it?” The room went static with my question. I knew I’d hit the nail on the head when Riley flicked his head down, then left. I’d watched him do the same move hundreds of times when we were kids. I took one menacing step forward, then another. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“I officially requested to have the investigation into Dad’s death reopened.”

“What else?” I seethed. “We both know Macha didn’t pull the trigger. Having some desk jockey looking into a ten-year-old murder wouldn’t even phase him. Certainly not enough to have my wife kidnapped.”

“Clear the room,” he commanded.

Whatever he’d done, he hadn’t shared with his colleagues, which also meant it may have skirted the gray side of legal. When it was just the two of us left, he sat with his head in his hands. I joined him. My big brother. The man who cheered the loudest at my high school and FBI graduation ceremonies. This was eating him up more than anything I could ever do or say.

“Talk to me, Ry.”

“After you called about Dad’s notebook, I dug deeper, trying to find the common denominator between Los Tredos and the Bolotov Bratva.”

Stupid. So stupid. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on lowering my heart rate rather than taking a few swings at him. It was one thing to go after a major drug gang and the mafia when you had the full backing of the police department behind you. It was another to foolishly go rogue.

“I found the connection, Koen. Bolotov’s nephew, Zasha Popov, aka Z.”

“The fuck did you say?” I shot to my feet, phone already in my hands.

“We’re in the air, Koen. Tell me you’ve got her.”

“Not yet, but Duncan, listen close. Z is Zasha Popov, Bolotov’s nephew. Get Nelson on it.”

“Fuck,” I heard him grunt as I disconnected the call .

“They figured out you were on to them, Riley. We need to move now before it’s too late.”

The doorknob was in my hand when Reed burst through, knocking me back on my heels. Jett rushed in behind him.

“Sorry, but we’ve got Macha. He’s at his compound near San Andreas Lake.”

“The AirTag signal is in the same area, Koen. She’s there.”

“Get everyone suited up, Riley. We’re going hunting.”

Hang on a little longer, Angel. I’m coming.