Chapter 25

The driver’sdoor gaped open like a wound, the interior empty, uselessly lit by the dome light.

Mason bit back a shout of rage. Guilt and self-recrimination twisted his gut.

Footsteps pounded behind him, then came the ragged breathing of his team as they regrouped around him. Their gazes landed on him, their faces pale and drawn in the dim light of the parking lot.

“Mace …”

He barely registered their presence, his attention focused solely on the empty driver’s seat.

It was a sight that would haunt him, a nightmare made real. He imagined the struggle, Paul’s fear and desperation. He hung his head. Please, Lord, keep Paul safe until I find him.

“Mason, we have to go,” Tai said, his voice tight with urgency. “Those guards are waking up, and we can’t afford to get caught here.”

Mason shook his head, his jaw clenched with stubborn determination. That, and anger, were the only things holding back the intense shame. He’d let Paul down. “I’m not leaving without him.”

Tai had his drone monitor in hand, staring at the screen. “There’s no indication of anyone within a six-block radius at least. My guess is he’s long gone.”

“I agree,” Paige added. “Let’s get back to Bridger’s place. I can access every security cam in the state from there. We’ll find him.”

Avery stepped forward, putting a hand on his arm. “Us getting caught isn’t going to help. We need to regroup.”

He wanted to argue, to insist that they stay and fight. But they were right. With Paige’s Phantom down, the guards would rouse soon. The guy he took down in the office might even be up already.

He stepped aside to let Fenn take the driver’s seat. He wanted to be able to concentrate on their surroundings. “Alright.”

Without a word, the team piled into the SUV, Fenn taking the wheel with a white-knuckled grip. Mason fingered his M18, the fear and anger burning in his chest like a physical ache.

With no signs of pursuit, Fenn drove slow enough for them to eye the area, but Mason saw nothing. No pedestrians. No other vehicles. Not even a lousy pigeon. Whoever took Paul had vanished.

The drive back to Bridger’s place was a blur, the streets of the city passing by in a haze of neon and shadow. When they finally reached the mansion, Mason was out of the vehicle before it stopped moving. He stalked inside, his body coiled with tension and barely-contained rage. The others followed behind him, their footsteps echoing in the cavernous foyer.

In the living room, Mason slammed his fist against the wall, the pain barely registering through the haze of his anger. “I should have been there,” he said, his voice raw with self-recrimination. “I should have protected him.”

Avery stepped forward, her face etched with concern. “This isn’t your fault,” she said, her voice soft but insistent. “We all knew the risks going in, Paul included. He made his own choice.”

“He’s my brother. I’m supposed to keep him safe. I’m supposed to be there for him, no matter what. And I failed.”

He could see the guilt in her eyes, the weight of her own sense of responsibility for the mission’s outcome.

She backed away. “Paul’s got the best of the best searching for him. You and your team can do anything. You know that.”

“Lord willing,” he whispered the fragment of a prayer. Of a plea.

Paige chose that moment to burst into the room, laptop in hand. Fenn and the others followed.

“We have another problem,” Paige said. “Before we headed out, I started a search on the informant who tipped off the FBI about the footage of Mason and Avery taking those packages. It was Lars Stenberg.”

“The company owner?” Fenn pressed a hand to the top of his head. “That makes no sense.”

No. It didn’t. Mason’s stomach clenched. This case was getting weirder by the second.

And Paul was dead center.

Desperation surged through him, a wild, reckless need to do something, anything, to save his brother. But even as he opened his mouth to speak, he realized the truth. They had no leads. No clues. No way of knowing where Paul had been taken or who had him.

All they knew was that the trucking company’s owner had caught on to their investigation. And he’d made sure Avery’s supervisor knew it, too.

“Maybe Stenberg’s not involved in a bad way,” Tai speculated. “Could be he wants the FBI to shut down the operation.”

Graham palmed an apple. “Or he senses he’s on a sinking ship and wants to cooperate so he won’t face prosecution.”

Avery shot Mason a look. “Whatever the reason, we can probably cross Stenberg off the list of kidnappers. Alerting Ryan only increased Bureau scrutiny on his company. Not exactly the move of a criminal genius.”

“Agreed.” Mason fingered the folding knife in his front pocket, aching to take action. Eliminating a suspect was progress, no matter how miniscule. But it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

He slipped away from the group, his feet carrying him out onto the balcony overlooking the city. The night air was cool against his skin, the sounds of the city distant and muffled. He leaned against the railing, his head bowed and his eyes closed as he tried to steady his racing heart.

He could feel himself slipping, retreating into that dark, lonely space he had been so many times before. The guilt and self-recrimination were like a physical ache, a pain that throbbed in his chest with every beat of his heart.

Once they had Paul back, he would have to face his own inner demons, the ones that whispered to him in the night and urged him to violence.

But for now, he had to be strong. For Paul, for Avery, for his team. He had to keep it together, to focus on the mission and the people who needed him.

He had to focus on finding his baby brother.