After hiking five miles to the compound, Logan waited with Mike until after midnight. In order to run this op, he needed eyes inside. Disappointing, but no surprise there hadn’t been any contact from Olivia, hostages were always locked up and guarded around the clock. And if he knew the duchess, she wouldn’t do anything to put the girls in danger or expose the op.

Logan put on a pair of night vision goggles and grabbed his backpack. He was going in. At the top of the hill, Mike would wait with a sniper rifle, just in case things didn’t go as planned.

“You need anything else?” asked the Scot.

“You got any whisky?”

“Those words will get you killed around here, mate.”

“It’s not what you think. I call it a SEAL insurance policy.”

“Aye? Then I think I can help.” Mike hopped into the cab and opened the glove box. “Here it is. Insurance.”

Logan took the fifth of Jack. “A Scot with some taste.”

“That stuff is rubbish. The best whisky on the planet is made on Islay. It’s peaty.”

“You don’t say? You’ll have to introduce me after we get out of here.” Logan stashed the bottle in his pack.

“I’d be happy to.” Mike slapped his shoulder. “You certain you don’t want me to come?”

“Reconnaissance is better done alone.”

“Right-o, mate. I’ll see you back here then.”

“Hooyah.”

Logan headed eastward on foot while Mike climbed the hill with his rifle.

The one useful thing the drone video had revealed was a hole in the chain link fence on the western side of the gate, not far from one of the outbuildings. It looked as if an animal had tried to burrow under—or a prisoner. Nonetheless, it was a breach that already existed. The last thing Logan wanted to do was to further amp up any suspicion that someone was trying to rescue the girls. The drone disaster could have been caused by curious kids, especially since the thing was in such bad shape. However, a fresh breach in the fence would only serve to confirm the fact that the compound’s security had been compromised.

He quickly skittered down the hill and, once Logan made it to the breach, he lay flat on his belly and waited until the spotlight swept past, then he scrambled through the gap. He pushed up his sleeve to look at his watch, but approaching footsteps stopped him. Dashing beside an air-conditioning unit connected to the old building, Logan hid in the shadows, pressing his back against the wall.

A guard stopped while another set of footsteps approached. Together they each lit a cigarette and continued to have a nice, long conversation, none of which Logan understood.

He crouched, frozen in place, envisioning all the ways to fight his way out if they spotted him. But fighting bore the risk of alerting the compound to his presence. Not a good option when trying to slip in and out unnoticed.

The pair didn’t just light up and have a few puffs either. They sucked their cigarettes right down to the butts. Just when Logan’s thighs started cramping, the first man flipped his to the dirt, said goodbye, then headed back the way he came.

Guard number two leaned against the wall and took in another long drag.

Yeah, suck all you can out of that cancer stick.

Logan’s knees burned, too. But he clenched his teeth and bore it.

The guy pushed off from the wall.

Logan held his breath. Not even a finger twitched.

This guard did not return from whence he came. This bastard turned and walked directly past the air-conditioning unit.

Keep going.

The guy stopped. He stood still for a moment and looked out toward the fence—up the hill where Mike lay in wait.

Logan’s heart thundered in his ears as he let out a silent breath, then drew another equally as quiet.

But the man didn’t continue on his path. The bastard turned toward the AC unit.

Logan sprang.

His knees snapped straight. Before the guard finished turning, Logan sliced a karate chop to the base of the man’s skull. With a grunt, the guard buckled and dropped to the dirt face first.

Gritting his teeth, he rolled the perp to his back then grabbed him under the pits and dragged the hulk into a sitting position against the wall.

Quickly, he pulled the fifth of Jack from his backpack and poured it over the guy’s clothes. With the dregs, Logan sluiced a dollop in his palm and a smeared it over the guard’s face. Then he planted the empty fifth in the man’s hand and rested it in his lap.

Standing back, he regarded his handiwork. The guy looked guiltier than sin. Logan left everything else as is—the AK47 remained secured in its harness, bullets in place, everything. The man would be out for hours and if anyone found him, the soldier would be flayed before he got a chance to defend himself. If he awoke first, he’d never be able to explain how he ended up smelling like whisky with a throbbing headache that would last a good week.

Logan gave the bottom of man’s boot a kick. “You had to stop, didn’t you?”

He illuminated his watch and brought up Olivia’s signal. Odd. Though the satellite map only showed the compound without the building definition, the red light flashed thirty feet in the same direction the whisky-guzzling guard had been headed. And there wasn’t a building in that direction.

And once Logan stepped around the corner, he understood why. He’d seen pit cells before and there was no mistaking the four grates secured in the ground. He tapped his watch and narrowed the scope. Olivia was on the far end—or at least her microchip was.

He gulped as he made his way over there. Who knew what he’d find. People didn’t last long sitting in the sun in the arid desert. After crawling to the grate on his stomach, he grabbed a pin light and stuck his hand down between the bars before he turned it on.

Blonde hair.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Olivia?” he whispered.

With a jolt, she sprang to her feet. “Logan?”

Heavy weight lifted from his shoulders. “How’d you end up in a pit?”

She shook her head with a snort. “Playing the Good Samaritan.”

“You?”

“Hush.” She leaned against the wall and pushed her mop of messy hair away from her eyes. Jeez, he’d never seen her so disheveled. “See what happens when I try to do something nice?”

He chuckled under his breath, then examined the lock—he could pick it in about a minute. “Let me get you out of here.”

“No,” she hissed.

He hesitated. “Why not?”

“If I escape, they’ll know something’s up. They are already jumpy because of your faulty drone prank—that was you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I had no choice. Getting equipment into northern Syria is harder than breaking into Fort Knox. This place is black to satellites, and you haven’t sent any love notes, sweetheart.”

Olivia sighed. “Not for want of trying. And that’s why I have this damned chip in my head.”

“I know. So, what are we up against. How many girls? How many guards?”

“There are four female guards around the clock—they rotate—three shifts per day. I don’t know how many soldiers are posted in the barracks along the eastern fence, but the place is locked down. I think some of them come and go—and word is a whole lot more are coming.”

“More? When?”

“Soon. something’s going down. Al-Umari’s mother told—”

“Wait—the freak has a mother?”

“She’s the head bitch—let me tell you, like mother like son. She likes to drag us around by the hair.”

“Unbelievable.” Reaching in, Logan smoothed his hand over her hair. “What’s going down?”

“A battle. I don’t know where. Someplace close and near the Euphrates. They’re expecting a victory and valiant soldiers will be rewarded.”

“With fair-haired virgins?”

“Yes, sir.” She cringed as if feeling sick. “And if al-Umari’s men are not happy, the girls will be shot…if they’re lucky.”

“Christ.” His stomach muscles clenched. “Do you know when?”

“If I did it would have been the first thing out of my mouth.” Olivia grasped Logan’s hand. Lord, it felt so good to touch her. “You’ve got to get the hostages out of here. And it’s not going to be easy, because there are fifty-three of them if you count me.”

“What?”

“Fifty-three.”

Logan looked skyward. “Jesus, we’re gonna need more copters. And if what you say is true about the soldiers, we’ll need more firepower.”

Olivia squeezed his fingers. She looked like shit—still pretty, but frazzled. “Why is Garth taking so long?”

“Brining in military ops takes time—same as it did when I was a SEAL. All the higher-ups need to give their blessing first.”

“Tell them the murder of fifty-three European girls will be on their hands. That’ll ratchet up their ire—nationalities are French, German and Dutch.”

“Dutch?”

“Yeah, and one of the Dutch girls is why I’m in this pit. She was savagely raped and beaten, and I was trying to request medical assistance for her.”

Logan grimaced. “This is messed up.”

Her eyes grew wider, resolute. “Promise me you’ll tell Garth NATO forces have to strike now.”

“He’ll be the first to know. How much time do you think we have?”

“A day or two.”

“Shit.” He scanned the grounds. “Where are they holding the girls?”

“The long building on the west side. The bunks and head are on the second floor. First floor is the mess hall. We’re assigned to cleaning every day. Groups of ten. Inside and out. We’re locked in the bunk room after dinner—I’d guess around seven every night, then we’re up at first light.”

“Great intel.” He gulped, knowing things hadn’t been a picnic. “How are you hanging in there?”

“Aside from wanting to kick some ass?” She shrugged. “Hungry, thirsty. Alive.”

Logan released her hand, pulled the two bottles of water from his pack and handed them down.

“You’re a life saver.” She cracked the cap of one and guzzled.

He rubbed fingers over his pocket and located what he was looking for. “Got a power bar, too.”

She snatched it from his fingertips and ripped off the wrapper. In two blinks, she’d devoured the chocolate.

“How long do you think they’ll keep you locked up?” he asked.

“One of the girls told me no more than two days.” She passed up the wrapper and the empty bottle. “If they find this on me, they’ll probably cut off my head.”

Logan looked to the lock. If only he could pull her out of there right now. “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not. They’ve already threatened.”

“Jesus.” He pointed. “What are you planning to do with the second bottle?”

“Guess I’ll have to toss it out when it’s empty.”

“You should bury it.” He passed down a pocket knife and a leather thong. “Know what to do with this?”

“Hey, you’re talking to one of Britain’s best.”

“Good girl.”

She took the knife. “Tell Garth we can’t wait any longer than two days. I’ve got a bad, bad feeling and my intuition is hardly ever wrong.”

Logan nodded. “Two, three tops.”

She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t think we have three.”

“I’ll ensure ICE understands.” Logan’s gut twisted and he reached down and cupped her cheek. “Hey, when this goes down, I don’t want you to be a hero.”

A determined look filled her eyes. “Sorry, cowboy, but I don’t know how to tuck my tail and walk away. I’m not leaving until every one of those girls is safe and accounted for.”

“Thought you’d say that.” He reached down and again grasped Olivia’s hand. Drawing it through the grill, he kissed her knuckles while a tempest stirred in his chest. “I mean it. Look after yourself. I’m coming with an army and if anyone lays a finger on you, I’ll blast them to hell.”

She puckered her lips and blew him a kiss. “It’s nice to have a boyfriend who’ll kill the bad guys for me.”

He grinned while his chest swelled. “Boyfriend?” He liked the sound of that.

“Teammate. Bloody hell, you know what I meant.”

“Yes, indeed, your grace.”

“You’d better get out of here before someone catches you.”

“See you in a couple days.”

“Count on it.”