“Alpha team, this is bravo team coming in hot from your south at five o’clock,” Rocco’s voice came over the comm in my ear.

“Copy that, bravo team. Last known . . .” I tuned out Zane while I relayed the last known GPS coordinates. “We’re headed west. Eyes peeled.”

“Roger,” Rocco replied.

“I can’t see a motherfucking thing through the tree canopy,” Jax complained.

“Keep fucking looking,” Zane barked. “Colin. Call in our location to Tex.”

“Copy.” I switched my radio to Tex’s frequency. “Tex, this is Breeze, you copy?”

“Go for Tex.” It was hard to hear him over the rotor blades even with ear-pro on over my comms.

“We’re at last known. No sight. Do you have anything for us?”

“Has Rocco’s team arrived?”

“Affirmative.”

“I’m going to activate the subcutaneous tracking device. You’ll be on a fast-moving clock. Once it’s active, the hacks will be able to locate him, too.” Fucking hell. I didn’t want to ask when the president had gotten a tracker implanted under his skin. “Twenty-four kilometers. North 39-39. West 77-27. Your time has started. I’ll direct traffic your way when the rest of the guys land. Good luck.”

“Copy that. Out.” I switched back to the teams’ comms and repeated what Tex had said.

“Roger,” came from Rocco.

“Clusterfucking hell. Six minutes,” Zane grumbled.

We had six minutes to get to the location Tex had given us. I took that time to check my weapons and extra ammo mags. I hoped to God when we got to Tom he was still breathing. It had been almost two hours since Tex had lost communication with the pilot. I didn’t know how Tex had pulled off keeping this under wraps and I was a little afraid to find out. I always knew Tex was a whole lot of dangerous behind a computer but now, with a hundred percent certainty, I knew he could fuck some shit up and leave the US in shambles if he wanted to.

“I have visual on Marine One,” Rocco said. “No movement. Switching to thermal. Three down. I repeat there are three down.”

Shit. Three dead and cooling bodies. The helicopter Rocco and his team were in hovered over the downed Marine One.

It wasn’t but a minute later a black rope dangled out of the side of the open door. “Cover,” Gumby, one of the SEALs from Rocco’s team said as the helicopter started to lower.

“Roger,” I called back.

Pulling my FNH SCAR rifle up and to the ready, I watched the six men from the other team fast rope down. Once each of their feet hit the ground, we continued north and circled the location Tex had given us.

“Still can’t see a motherfucking thing,” Leo griped.

“Head five klicks north. We need to unload,” Zane called to the pilot.

“Pilot down. Two SSAs down. He’s not here,” Bubba called in. “Repeat, not at this location.”

It was a relief Tom wasn’t among the dead, but both of the secret service agents were, which meant he was unprotected.

“Marine One took no fire. Fully functional,” Rex called in.

“Repeat that?” Linc asked.

“No fire. Marine One was not hit.”

Zane looked at me, and, in all the years I’ve known him, I’d only ever seen fear on his face one other time. When Ivy was missing, he was terrified. Now, he was a mix of red hot pissed and worried. The emotions didn’t sit well with me.

“How they’d get into the box?” Zane asked.

He was asking about the bulletproof box in the cabin that the president sits in.

“Undamaged.”

So either Tom let himself out or one of the agents unlocked it. Neither was good. The box being destroyed would’ve been the best case.

“We have blood—motherfucker,” Phantom cut out.

“Rocco?” Zane called.

“Taking fire,” he panted.

“Do you need backup?”

“Fuck no. We can handle this in our sleep. Out.”

“Tex is in my ear,” the pilot announced. “Both follow helicopters have been downed in a Pennsylvania field. No survivors. He said you have an hour tops before it’s all over the news. He’s doing what he can.”

Marine One never flew without two follow helicopters. All the aircrafts were equipped with anti-missile and radar countermeasures. The fleet was guarded by eight hundred Marines, no one touched those helicopters unless they had special clearance. How in the fuck had someone taken down all three of them? Before today, I’d have said it would be impossible.

“How sure are we Gerard’s clean?” Declan asked.

“He’s clean,” Zane answered.

“You willing to bet your life on it?”

“He’s at HQ with my wife. I’ve already bet my life. He’s solid.”

Dec nodded and dropped the rope. The helicopter slowly lowered and finally came to a stop and hovered.

“Something’s not right!” I shouted to Zane.

“You fucking think? The goddamn president is missing. There’s not a damn thing right about this.”

“What are the chances all three helicopters malfunctioned at the same fucking time?”

“None.”

“Ready?” Dec asked.

Zane stepped forward, touched all of his equipment one last time, before he sat on the edge and wrapped his legs around the rope.

“Let’s do this!” He was instantly out of the helicopter, fast roping down.

Five rifles pointed toward the ground, ready to provide cover fire if needed. Once his feet hit the ground. Leo went, Declan, Linc, and Jax followed. I took one last look around, making sure no one had left anything. With a silent prayer the president was holding on, I slid down the rope.

“Rocco, what’s your twenty?”

“Counting the bodies,” he came back.

“How many?”

“Fifteen. By the weapons and the rest of the gear they’re well-funded. No patches. One guy has a tat on his forearm. Ace got a picture.”

“What’s it of?” I asked Rocco.

“A peacock feather.”

“Same guys,” I told Zane.

I’d seen the same peacock feather tattoo on one of the guys that had held Erin and me. The question remained, who did they work for? Greenwold? Militrix? Or the Omni? Hell, at this point I was almost positive they weren’t mutually exclusive. All three seemed to tie together in one giant clusterfuck.