Wednesday. Aegis Group Headquarters, Seattle, WA.

Felix Larson stared at the gleaming surface of the conference table as though it would show him how to fix the past and all his mistakes. This time of year, regret hit hard. He was grateful they had a job to do, something that would take his mind off the anniversary of his cousin’s death. Yet another thing he was missing because he couldn’t handle listening to everyone share stories about Björn’s last days.

“Come on, guys, client’s almost on site. Stop jacking around.” Kyle’s voice drifted down the hall.

Client here, huh?

That didn’t happen very often. Usually Lepta Team had more face-to-face interaction with clients, but there was always a special case in the mix.

The team leader, Kyle, followed by the other four members of the unit filed into the room.

“You come straight from the bar?” Isaac plopped into the seat next to Felix.

“Fuck you,” Felix muttered.

He had, in fact, just come from his cousin’s pub, but not for the usual reasons.

Every year on the anniversary of Björn’s passing they all met at the pub. Björn had lived in the apartment over Trinity Hall, along with his brother Erik, back before the place was a success and Erik moved into his own place, giving Björn some privacy. Somewhere to bring his girlfriend after work. Later, it’d been his wish to die in the place he’d loved, and all they could do was sit back and watch Björn’s body fail him, this time for good.

Well, the others had.

Felix had made up a reason to not be there. He wouldn’t sit through the vigil no matter how much he loved his family. So he’d found something to throw himself into. Back then, he’d had to prep for deployment. Today, he had a job to get to.

“Okay, guys, chill. Sit.” Kyle stood at the head of the table, a clipboard in hand. “Zain is coming in here any minute with our clients, Mr. Jim Davies and his son, Jeffery. Let’s try to act professional, okay?”

“Hey, he started it.” Isaac thrust his finger toward Shane sitting across from him.

Shane merely flipped the other man off.

At least the two had made up. For the first six months Felix had been part of the team it was like walking on eggshells whenever those two were near each other. Whatever they’d done to clear the air, Felix was glad for it. They spent far too much time together on the road, in planes, and cooped up in hotels for that sort of thing to last.

“What’s the job?” he asked. Please let it be something that took them out of the country...

“Client’s daughter—”

“Morning, everyone.” Zain Lloyd, former tech guru turned supervisor of the new Aegis Group Seattle office, stepped into the room, his right hand smoothing the front of his sport coat. His prosthetic hand was less flashy today and held onto a tablet.

Felix frowned, unaccustomed to seeing Zain remotely dressed up.

Two men in suits entered behind Zain. The way they held their heads, noses up, staring down at them, set Felix’s teeth on edge.

Great.

One of those jobs.

These guys practically breathed money. They could probably afford whatever the ransom was, but didn’t want to pay it on principal. Felix had seen enough of their type while doing this job.

What had the rich girl gotten herself into?

“This is Mr. Jim Davis, and his son, Jeffery.”

“Please, call me Jeff.” The younger man smiled, but it was a plastic expression that did nothing to loosen the stick shoved up his ass. If the sister was anything like him, her captors might pay them to take her away.

“Have a seat, please?” Zain gestured at the two chairs left vacant at the end of the table. It was strange not seeing random bursts of light from his prosthetic. Zain usually sported some serious upgrades when it came to his arm.

Felix sat up a little straighter. Between clients on site, their attitudes, and Zain’s altered appearance, Felix had a funny feeling about this gig.

What the hell were they getting into?

“Thanks for coming in so quickly, everyone.” Zain turned toward the projector, and using his tablet as a controller, displayed the image of a black-haired, brown-eyed young woman on the wall. “Meet our asset, Jacqueline Davis—”

“My daughter got herself into this mess.” Jim Davis shook his head and swiveled to face the rest of them. “If her mother weren’t dying I’d be tempted to let her weather this out. Perhaps she’d finally learn her lesson.”

“Dad.” Jeff frowned at his father, but didn’t utter another word.

“That’s what we are here to do, sir. Bring Jacqueline home safe.” To Zain’s credit, he didn’t miss a beat. “I hope you guys have been paying attention to the news. If you haven’t, the capital city of the African country of Mauritania exploded into a civil war two weeks ago.”

“Just the city?” Kyle frowned.

“A large portion of the country’s population is centered around the capital. We’re talking about clusters of people on the edge of the Sahara Desert. So far, it seems the fighting is just in the city. Who controls the presidential palace controls the country sort of thing. Tensions have been strained for a long time. There’s a disproportionate amount of wealth, and a lot of poor, unhappy people. Some say this was bound to happen, others think there’s outside influence. Figuring that out isn’t our job, but it does play into bringing Jacqueline home. From the demands Mr. Davis has received we think Jacqueline and the group of people she was working with were taken hostage by one of the factions vying for control of the country.”

“What are their demands?” Felix could see how the Davis wouldn’t want to contribute to a civil war.

“We have received a few, very confusing claims that certain groups have her, but no proof.” Jeff glanced around the table.

“Wait—we aren’t even sure who has her?” That wasn’t good.

“We’ve got some leads,” Kyle said to him.

“We’re very good at finding people.” Zain smiled at the two men. It was astonishing how much he’d changed going from his role as head of logistics and computer bullshit to managing the whole branch. “Now, I’ve been in contact with the State Department, and they believe this can be negotiated, but that takes time and Mrs. Davis—”

“She’s not my wife,” Jim interjected.

“Sorry, Jacqueline’s mother doesn’t have long. Our goal is to bring Jacqueline home in time for her to say goodbye. Publically, the State Department can’t support us, but they’re not going to hinder us or slap us with a warning if we do go in fully geared.” Zain glanced around the room.

“How long does Jacqueline’s mom have?” Felix asked.

“She’s on a ventilator.” Jeff leaned forward and for the first time his compassion went deeper than the lines around his mouth. “Medically speaking she’s already gone. They’re keeping her plugged in so Jackie can be there when her body goes. This was a matter of time. She’s been a heavy user for...most of our lives.”

“We’re hoping we can get you guys in, find Jackie, and get out in under three days,” Zain said.

Three days to trek across a city in civil war?

Shit. Not only were they working on limited time, but they didn’t even know who had her. Their job was hard enough as is, but to put a deadline on what could very likely be a difficult rescue mission made it worse. They’d have to be smart.

“What can you tell us about their demands?” Felix leaned forward. “Is there any way we can pull a bait and switch?”

“Their demands change.” Jeff turned and braced his arms on the table.

Jim frowned at his phone and stood.

“I’ve got to take this. Jeff can answer any of your questions.” Jim strode out of the room without so much of a, please bring my daughter home safe.

No one spoke.

Jim’s voice faded the farther he went from the conference room.

Kyle crossed to the door and eased it shut. The tense edge in the room dissipated without Mr. Davis’ voice whispering down the hall at them.

Jeff blew out a breath and his shoulders slumped.

“What isn’t your father telling us?” Kyle asked.

“We don’t know a lot.” Jeff grimaced. “Every time we get a demand email or letter, it’s always different. They want money. Now they want resources. Then they want someone to go to bat for them with the UN. Look, my sister is...”

“What’s the story with her and your dad?” Felix asked.

“That’s none of our business.” Kyle glared at Felix across the table.

“Actually, it’s the whole reason she’s there.” Jeff slumped in his chair and blew out a breath suddenly looking older and weary. “Long story short, Jacqueline blames Dad for our mother’s condition. Ever since Jackie turned eighteen she’s spent as much of Dad’s money as she can, and Dad doesn’t exactly appreciate it. Shoot. Hold on.”

Jeff pulled his phone out of his pocket and grimaced. That seemed to be a family thing, the frowning and sighing. What would a female Jeff be like? If she was traipsing around Africa spending Dad’s money, chances were she was worse company than Jeff.

Wonderful.

“Dad needs me. A client thing got moved up.” Jeff stood, hands braced on the table. “You need anything, call me. This might go better if I’m the point of contact instead of Dad.”

“I think we’ve got it from here.” Zain stepped back, giving Jeff room to get to the door. “If we have any questions, we’ll call you.”

“Please do.” Jeff buttoned his coat. “We haven’t let it get out that Jackie is being held.”

“We don’t make a habit of talking about our clients. Hope we speak under better circumstances next time, Mr. Davis.” Zain held out his hand.

Jeff gave it a quick shake then strode out of the conference room.

Again, no one spoke for several minutes even with the door shut. What they were waiting on, Felix didn’t know, but they continued to while away the seconds in utter silence.

The conference phone beeped, the light for the receptionist desk blinking.

“Both Mr. Davises have left the building,” Merida said, her voice cool and composed as always.

Zain blew out a breath and shrugged out of his sport coat. He draped it over a chair and proceeded to roll up his sleeves. He was still a little too fancy to be the real Zain, but at least he didn’t look so foreign.

“What aren’t they telling us?” Felix glanced around the room. “I’m not the only one smelling a rat, right?”

“No, you’re not. Initial look into the Davis family paints a pretty dysfunctional picture.” Zain turned toward the projector and more images filled the screen. “Back story on our asset, who goes by the name of Jackie Davis: Dad divorced Mom when Jackie was pretty young. Mom has been in and out of rehab with a steady pill addiction. She overdosed a week ago. Doctors are keeping her alive at her son’s request so that Jackie can say goodbye. That much lines up with what both Jim and Jeff are saying.”

“Shit.” Felix shook his head.

“What’s the story on the asset? Is she the spoiled rich girl?” Isaac asked.

“That’s where it gets interesting, and it’s all about perspective.” Zain wagged his finger at them. “Jackie documents what her dad calls frivolous spending on her social media accounts.”

Image after image of the same dark-haired girl cradling babies, hauling water by hand and delivering what looked like relief crates to devastated areas filled the screen. Those weren’t shoes or handbags. Hell, most of what Jackie wore in the pictures had seen better days.

“She donates her time and money to a dozen different humanitarian organizations. If you can think of it, she’s probably been listed as a major donor. Officially she’s a project manager specializing in disaster relief, but from the looks of it, if there’s a country in need—she’s there. She’s a fucking Nobel Peace Prize nominee in the making. This is her last post from two weeks ago before everything went to hell. The caption reads, Can’t wait to get these babies to a better life.”

Felix swallowed at the image of Jackie, her clothes dirty and what looked like blood smeared on her sleeve, holding two infants who were little more than skin and bones. Three more children whose heads seemed too big for their bodies clung to her arms and legs, their smiles so big they split their faces in two. The images just kept coming.

“Everything about this particular trip? I guess we’ll call it that. It all seems different.” Zain frowned at the pictures, moving them around on the wall using his phone. “Breaking down her social media posts they go in a pattern. There’s an announcement she’s working with Group A for some purpose or another. Then a fundraising push. They show preparation, the team. There’s a flow that shows that these things she does are organized. This time she’s talking about an upcoming fundraiser, she posts a progress picture of an orphanage from last year, and then she’s holding babies an in Mauritania. Something happened out of order, but we don’t know what—and that could be the key for why it’s all gone wrong.”

“Shit, you’d think a pompous asshole like her old man would love this kind of positive press.” Isaac swung his chair back and forth.

“Yeah, but I get the feeling all dear old Dad cares about is profit,” Felix said.

“You’re probably right.” Zain tapped his screen a few more times. “What we do know is that Jackie works with several civil rights, anti-slavery groups who are particularly active in Mauritania. Slavery was made a punishable offense in 2007, but by all accounts, it’s still a very real problem there. It’s hard for organizations to get into the country to do any sort of good because the government takes the stance that they don’t have a slavery problem. I’m following up with some of Jackie’s friends, and it sounds like she went rogue with this trip, run, not sure what it is. What we can tell from the two pictures she posted is that she was there to rescue some people. For all we know it might have been a trap, or wrong time wrong place, who knows?”

“Jesus...” Felix scrubbed a hand over his face.

“It’s highly likely more than just Jackie is being held there. I’m trying to get in contact with someone who can tell me how many individuals were working with Jackie so we know how many we’re hoping to bring back. Right now, all the other teams are deployed, but as soon as one gets back I want to have them on standby for backup. This is going to be a tricky, messy rescue. This whole civil war seems...off.” Zain threw his hands up. “If I had more than ten hours notice on this we’d be better briefed.”

“When do you sleep?” Felix asked.

“Never, according to my wife.” Zain grinned.

“We’re booked on a flight that leaves in three hours.” Kyle stretched his arms toward the ceiling. “I’d suggest repacking your bags and keep them light on nonessentials, heavy on ammo and tactical gear. Pack for hot weather. There’s a good chance we’ll be doing some running.”

“And I’ll hopefully have more for you by the time you land to make your connection in Egypt.”

The others filed out of the room, talking in hushed tones.

Felix didn’t get up. He kept staring at Jackie’s dirt-smudged face. When he met, he owed her an apology. His kind of frivolous spending was getting another game system he didn’t need. She was out to save the world.

“Everything okay?” Zain flipped through the papers on his clipboard.

“How does a guy think this is frivolous? I feel like a piece of shit looking at her life.”

“Some people have different drives.” Zain glanced at the screen. “Some of us are driven to succeed, which means getting more money, climbing to the top of the ladder. Some of us are driven to help people, which puts people like Jackie here in danger. And some of us unlucky bastards are driven to protect people, which means you better get your ass in gear.”

“You’re right.” Felix pushed to his feet and stretched.

“Ian was surprised you weren’t off. Something I should know?” Zain asked.

“Nah.”

“Well, if you can take this job, we need more boots on the ground. You don’t speak French or Arabic, do you?”

“My French is shit, and I can’t even ask for a beer in Arabic. I’m going to go get my damn bag.”

The best thing Felix could do to commemorate his cousin was bring Jackie home. The Björns and Jackies of the world were important. There needed to be more of them because too many people just wanted to make a buck at the expense of others.