“Boss?” Taz releases me to check on him, and I fall forward on my stomach.
Exhaustion hits me so hard. The darkness won’t be held at bay any longer. It washes out my last ray of consciousness.
I’m drowning in what I’m certain is the end of my life…
I choke on a sob, and with the final strength in my body, I wish with all my heart for him. I hiccup a cry and say his name one last time.
Logan…
Recovery
Logan
Desperation sets in as we finish searching the third abandoned warehouse from top to bottom and find no trace of them.
“It’s empty,” Freddie says, returning to where I stand in the middle of the enormous, dark space, looking up at the grey sky visible overhead through the broken roof.
I let out a slow, measured breath. The king has his rejection of their demands set to go. He’s convinced it will force them to make a move and blunder into the open, but I’m afraid of what will happen if he’s wrong.
“What exactly did the satellite imagery show?” I demand, shining my light all around.
It’s deserted, but clearly somebody’s been here. We can tell from the abandoned shopping carts and the overwhelming funk of body odor.
“The king should be informed this one’s a den of homeless people. Refugees most likely.” Rex is beside me holding a cloth handkerchief over his mouth and nose.
“Ava will organize an outreach.” I pat his shoulder, doing my best to keep our hope alive. “Come on. We have to find her so she can help them.”
The evening is wearing on. It’s not raining, but the low-hanging clouds makes it feel later than five. “What is the schedule on Rowan’s email?”
“They gave us twenty-four hours from midnight last night. He scheduled the email to go at five thirty. We can stop him if we think that isn’t enough time.”
Reaching up, I rub my fingers over my eyes. “Fuck,” I growl. “What’s left to search?”
Freddie is pacing, studying the face on his large smartphone. “It doesn’t make sense. We’ve checked every abandoned site in the area. They have to be here!” His voice rises the more he speaks, and as much as I’m ready to shout myself, I need him to keep it together.
“So what’s left?”
He stops and looks at me, his dark brow low over his dark eyes. “They wouldn’t keep them in a warehouse being used… would they?”
“Let me see the images.”
He quickly passes the device to me, and I watch as the black vehicle creeps around the outskirts of the city in the foothills before dropping down the Avenue des Guelfes.
“Central Export is right here.” I point to the water’s edge near the international heliport.
The muscle in his jaw moves back and forth. “It’s too busy. Heli Air has hourly flights to St. Tropez. Anyone could find them there, and while they might get away with it because Kass is blind, Ava would yell for help.”
Stefano has his phone out and starts to read. “Central Export specializes in food and non-food shipping to the African continent and the Caribbean.”
Our eyes flash to each other’s, and I’m moving before I finish saying. “MOVE!” I’m in the Mercedes with Freddie driving, Rex and Stefano are right behind us.
“We can’t storm in there.” Freddie is planning out loud. “They can’t know we’re coming. They have too many ways to escape. For all we know they could have a helicopter on standby.”
“A helicopter is easy to track. They wouldn’t get far.”
“A cargo ship? They could already be gone in that case.”
“No, they want the money.” My bent elbow is propped on the window, and I pinch my top lip. “We’ve got to storm the place. We can’t afford to waste time.”