WEDNESDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Las Colinas, Texas.

“Riley?”

There was a note of alarm in that voice. The kind that hooked Riley out of a deep, satisfied sleep and brought him to full wakefulness.

“Hm? What?” He sat up, blinking in the darkness.

“Where’s Erin?”

Riley blinked at Brenden standing in the doorway.

Where was Erin?

Riley twisted, but the other side of the bed was empty. She’d been right there. He placed his hand on the sheets, but they were cold.

“She was taking a shower...” And he’d passed out despite telling himself to wait up for her.

“She’s not here,” Brenden said. There was a note of alarm Riley hadn’t often heard from the man. It fueled his desperation to find Erin, prove Brenden wrong.

Riley threw back the blankets and stood, glad he’d at least gone to bed with his boxers on.

“She’s here somewhere. Move.” Riley shoved past Brenden into the hall. “Erin?”

He pushed the bathroom door open.

Water droplets still clung to the shower walls. The humidity hadn’t had time to dissipate.

She hadn’t been gone that long.

“Erin? Where are you?” he called out.

“The laptop is gone.” Brenden followed him into the living room. “I thought... I thought she just needed some space.”

“What’s going on?” Grant shambled out of his room in sweats and a t-shirt, squinting at the light. Another door down the hall cracked open and Melody leaned out.

“Erin left and took the laptop with her,” Brenden said

Riley ignored the others and poked his head into the office. He made sure the exterior lights were on, checked the back yard, the SUVs and finally wound up in the kitchen. The sound of raised voices followed him, Grant demanding answers Brenden couldn’t give.

The notepad sat in the middle of the kitchen island. Folded up on top was a square of paper with his name on it.

His mouth dried up.

“Guys?”

Riley took a step toward the notepad.

She was gone.

He didn’t need to read the note to know that.

He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. This was his fault. If he’d waited up, if he’d insisted on holding her until she fell asleep, she’d still be there.

“What? What is it?” Grant strode toward the kitchen.

The others clustered in the living room. This was the first time an asset had run away from their team. They’d never had to deal with this. He knew some of the other teams had this happen, but this was a first for them.

Riley picked up the notepad and skimmed the words, each one driving an invisible knife deeper into his chest.

“She’s gone.” He handed the note across the counter to Grant.

“Thanks for all your help. I need to take it from here and do what I think is right,” Grant read aloud.

“What’s that one say?” Melody had her robe wrapped tightly around her. She leaned against the bar a few feet from Grant.

“I don’t know.” Riley held it up. His name was printed in big block letters.

Melody’s gaze flicked to his face. “Read it,” she finally said.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Erin had decided she couldn’t trust him. If she could, she’d have taken him with her. Hadn’t he proved himself to her already?

“When did you last see her?” Grant asked Brenden.

“Fifteen minutes ago? Less? She got her laptop, made a phone call, and I thought she was in here. I got up for a drink and that was when I realized she was gone.” Brenden was in some deep shit.

Riley unfolded the sheet of paper and leaned against the cabinets. He rated more than two sentences.

I’m sorry. You aren’t going to understand. I need to take care of this. I also suck at goodbyes. I hope that by the time you read this, it’s handled. If not, don’t worry about me. I have a plan. Hope to see you in Miami.

“Okay, we need to know who Erin called and where she went,” Grant said.

“I’ll alert Zain,” Melody announced before turning her back on them.

“She went out this way.” Nolan pulled the back, sliding door open. It wasn’t locked.

“Nolan and I will take a walk outside. See if we spot her. Fifteen minutes, exhausted, hauling a laptop, she’s not going to be fast,” Vaughn said.

“Go,” Grant barked.

“Where the hell were you this time?” Grant braced his hands on the counter. “You’re fucking her. You can’t keep an eye on her, too?”

“Fuck you,” Riley snarled before pulling himself back. “She was going to take a shower, that was it.”

“Last time she tried to run off she told you. What happened this time?” Grant crossed his arms over his chest.

“Guys.” Melody snapped, glaring at both of them. “Right now, pointing fingers isn’t solving the problem. We all knew that Erin was a flight risk. She proved that in Erbil. We all let our guard down. I could easily ask why Brenden was the only person on watch, but I’m not going to.”

“What’s Zain say?” Riley nodded at her phone lying on the bar.

“He’s got the outgoing call on the monitor we put on the phone line. All he’s got to do is run it, but he was out to dinner with his wife. He’s trying to get Merida or someone closer to the office to trace it.”

“Fuck. Okay.” Riley winced. Zain’s wife was a saint for putting up with the job at all hours the way she did.

The front door opened and Nolan entered.

“Guys?” He thumbed over his shoulder.

An older gentleman in jeans, a polo and a cammo print ball cap with the word army stamped on it in bold, black letters followed Nolan into the house. Vaughn brought up the rear and closed the door behind him.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Colborn. He’s been waiting to pick Erin up for the last five minutes,” Nolan said.

Riley stared at the older man.

Brenden estimated Erin had left some fifteen minutes ago.

There were ten minutes unaccounted for.

“Who the fuck are you?” Riley asked. He stalked around the kitchen counter toward the man.

“Easy.” Grant reached out and grabbed Riley by the arm, yanking him to a stop.

“What the hell is going on here?” Colborn glanced around.

“Lieutenant Colborn, did you receive a phone call from Erin Lopez half an hour or so ago?” Melody asked.

Colborn’s lips compressed into a tight line.

Riley pulled out of Grant’s hold. “Someone is after Erin because of what she’s got on that laptop. If you know something—anything—we need to know now. She’s not here, and she’s not with you, so where is she?”

“She didn’t want to tell me over the phone...” Colborn blinked. Whoever he was, he cared about Erin.

“I think it’s best if you sit.” Melody gestured at the sectional.

“Nolan, Vaughn, go back out there. See if you can spot her, or anything. What she was last wearing, a shoe print,” Grant said, then glanced at Riley. “Go put some damn clothes on.”

Riley stalked down the hall.

Erin was gone because she couldn’t wait for them to figure out the best way to handle this. He should have known she wouldn’t be satisfied with the playing it safe.

She was gone, and they didn’t know where, when or how.

Riley closed the door to the room he’d recently shared with Erin and put his back against it. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor, so at least he knew she’d been truthful about showering. Her shoes were gone, which supported Brenden’s report that she’d left of her own free will.

He needed Casey. Someone local with a badge.

Riley crossed the room to his phone and pulled the charging cable out. He jabbed his brother’s number and pressed it to his ear.

They were going to find Erin. This wasn’t a job, it was personal.

THURSDAY. UNKNOWN, Texas.

Erin’s head throbbed and her shoulders ached on top of the dull pain from her ribs. The one saving grace was that the floor was cool, giving her some respite from the heat. Her side still burned, and her toes twitched at the memory of the Taser.

She kept her eyes firmly shut, sorting through the last thing she remembered.

The man from the airport.

He’d been waiting in the shadows outside the house. She’d stupidly walked out there and put herself in his path. He’d caught her off-guard and the Taser had robbed her of the ability to fight back at first. He’d hit her with something and after that it was fuzzy. She had fleeting memories of a car ride, being drug out by her feet, and then nothing.

Had he dosed her with something?

Her mouth was dry, but that didn’t mean anything.

What was she going to do?

She took stock of her body, noting the pains and discomforts. Her ribs hurt, but that was nothing new. The back of her head was tender. The worst was her shoulders due to her hands being tied behind her back. That hurt.

The laptop wasn’t on her, but maybe he’d dropped it. She could hope. The guys would find it with any luck and carry through with whatever plans they had in store for the intel.

“I know you are awake,” a man said in Arabic.

His accent sent chills down her spine.

Erin opened her eyes.

The same young man from the airport stood over her. His face was partially shrouded by shadow with the moon behind him, but she didn’t need to see all of him to know who it was. She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. The bare concrete, unfinished walls and an unbroken view of city lights. Sort of construction site.

Construction usually meant people.

Erin sucked down a breath and screamed, “Help!”

Khalil swung his hand and struck her with the flat of his palm. The jarring blow negated any hope she had that this was all a nightmare. The taste of blood was too real.

“No one will hear you out here,” he said.

He reached down and hooked his arm through hers, hauling her into a sitting position with a metal beam at her back.

That done, he took several steps back and stared at her.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

She tried to brace herself with her feet to get into a better position, but her ankles were bound together as well. The tingling in her toes made sense now.

“One of Mark’s boys?” If he was, Erin was dead, and nothing would come of the video.

The man spat on the concrete.

A breeze drifted through, causing trees to rustle in an almost musical way.

They had to be up off the ground floor. If she looked past him, those were the tops of trees out there. Not the ground.

“My name is Khalil Muhssan Al-Araji, and you killed my parents.”

Oh, shit.

Erin swallowed.

She would have never recognized the man.

The last time she’d seen Khalil, he’d been an angry, gangly teenager. He’d thrown a rock at her. It’d cut her arm. The security had wanted to go after him, but Erin had stopped them. After what he lost, he got to throw rocks at her.

“You know who I am?” Khalil reached behind him and drew a revolver.

“Y-yes.” Her throat tightened around that word.

The others who’d kidnapped her had been his friends and cousins. Mark was behind this. Once more he was twisting those hurt by NexGen to do his dirty work

“Do you know the pain you have caused me?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Erin held up her bound hands. She’d been a junior project manager. By the time they’d brought her onto the project, they were already hurtling toward disaster. Nothing she said or did had stopped it.

“You don’t get to be sorry.” He lunged toward her, pressing the muzzle of the gun against her forehead. “My mother and father said you people would help us have a better life. Do you think this is what they meant?”

“No. No, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.” How did she explain it to him? Would it even help?

“You know what NexGen did for our family? Nothing. It was ruled an accident, so they weren’t liable to do anything for us.”

Tears trickled down Erin’s cheeks.

She knew, because she’d shown up to those meetings until her boss sent her back to the States to shut her up. By then, it’d been too late. Allied Security was fired, probably to placate her. Everything was done. No one cared what happened to the victims’ families. Even Erin had moved on. She’d failed them.

“I’m sorry.” It was her biggest regret. The one thing she wished she could go back and change.

“That’s not good enough.” He shoved her back against the pole and straightened.

Khalil stalked away from her. Sorrow and hate were twisting this young man. The choices he made here and now would change his life. Her words wouldn’t make this better, but there was something they could still do. He didn’t know it, but they were on the same side.

Khalil was going to kill her. That knowledge should scare her more. Death at the hands of the people outside Mosul had terrified her, and yet... She’d always thought she deserved to be punished for what happened to Khalil’s family. That she was responsible. She didn’t want to die, but if that was her sentence, something good should come out of it.

How had Khalil found her? Why was he here? Now? It was too coincidental.

Mark had given Khalil’s cousin’s guns and pointed them at her. Was it a stretch of the imagination to think that Mark was the reason Khalil was here now?

Erin swallowed. It wasn’t absurd that Mark would use the same tactics here.

“I know you hate me, and I’m sorry. I failed you, your family and your friends. I know that. If you have to kill me that’s what you have to do. Just—please? Tell me one thing? The laptop, do you have it?” If she could get him to see the video and understand that Mark wasn’t on Khalil’s side, they could still put a stop to this.

“Why? What is it to you?” Khalil turned toward her.

“One of my coworkers was murdered because he was trying to turn someone in. He had a video emailed to him that proved people were doing bad things to people like your family. Please, for the families who don’t know what happened to their loved ones, take the laptop to the police?”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not. I swear.” Erin swallowed. Was she willing to risk it? All or nothing. “Watch it and tell me.”

“This is a trick.”

“Kill me, then watch the video. I don’t care what order you do it in, just—please?”

Khalil stared at her his gaze narrowed.

She’d fucked up, but there was no reason Mark and his thugs couldn’t be brought to justice.

Khalil turned and strode into the shadows.

“Where are you going?” Erin might die, but she didn’t want to be left alone.

He didn’t answer her. Instead he bent and grabbed something off the floor.

The laptop bag.

Khalil brought the bag to the middle of the floor where the moon provided the most light.

“If you’re lying, I’m going to kill you slowly,” he said.

Erin stared at the guy. He was in his early twenties. He’d been, what? Sixteen back then? He was still a kid. She doubted he’d ever killed a person, but anger made people do unusual things. If it came down to shooting her, she wasn’t entirely positive he’d pull the trigger.

“Password?” Khalil asked.

“19Sabbagh81.”

Khalil frowned at her.

“My mother’s maiden name and the year my parents were married. My mother’s family was from Iraq.”

“And you came back to kill your people?”

“I wanted to help make things better.”

Khalil sat a few feet away from her, legs crossed, laptop balanced on his thighs.

“There’s a file on the desktop labeled Important. Inside is a document. It’s a copy of an email with a link. Click the link.” She leaned her head back against the pole and shut her eyes.

“Is that thing on?” a voice from the laptop asked

Erin drew her knees up and bowed her head.

“Yeah.”

“This is proof of job completion, invoice twenty-three ninety-four.”

She cringed, but nothing could brace her for the sound of that gunshot, or the one that followed it. Tears leaked out of her eyes.

If she’d have made time to go through everything, perhaps she’d have found this.

Khalil said nothing.

He clicked a few times and the video began again.

By the end, Erin couldn’t control her tears, but Khalil didn’t respond with so much as a curse. Instead, he kept clicking, never speaking.

THURSDAY. BEST WESTERN Hotel, Irving, Texas.

Mark checked his phone again, but there was no text, no call, nothing.

Where the fuck was Khalil?

Everything hinged on Khalil doing his part. It was too risky for Mark and his people to stick their necks out. He’d counted on Khalil’s rage pushing him over the edge. Had something happened? Had the woman escaped?

If it came down to it, Mark could still tie up the loose ends. It would be bloody, big and cost him an arm and a leg, but he could do it.

“Sir?”

“What?” Mark wheeled around.

“Thomas has been taken care of,” the man said.

“Good.” That was one thing taken care of. He wouldn’t put it past Thomas to cut a deal to save his skin. Having him out of the picture was for the best.

“The guys want to know...what’s our contingency plan?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything is under control.” Mark grabbed the door connecting his room to the next and shoved it closed.

Worst case scenario, Mark could dump the guys and go his own way. It wasn’t the right thing to do, and he’d make a lot of enemies, but if it came down to it and they were every man for himself, Mark couldn’t hesitate.

His phone finally rang, only he didn’t recognize the number.

“Hello?” At this point he’d answer anything.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

THURSDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Las Colinas, Texas.

Riley paced the house. The cops gave him a wide berth while Casey sat back, giving him that flat stare that never failed to piss Riley off. If his brother was going to pop over to watch, the least he could do was be helpful.

“Dude. Stop. Sit.” Casey nodded at the chair next to him at the dining table.

Riley wanted to get out. Do something. Find Erin. But he couldn’t. She’d vanished without a trace. The best thing they had was a neighbor’s security camera catching her feet as she walked down the sidewalk.

He circled the table and sat next to Casey, picked up his brother’s cup of coffee and drained it.

“Have a drink, why don’t you?” Casey said.

Riley didn’t answer.

“I thought you were here on work?” Casey studied him in a way that wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“We are.”

“They might be.” He nodded at Grant standing with Brenden. “You aren’t. Who is this woman to you?”

Riley bit the inside of his cheek.

“Riley likes a girl. There’s one Mom would love to hear.” Casey leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Mom talked to her yesterday.” How would Riley tell Erin’s family she was gone? They had to get her back. Riley watched Grant escort the officers to the front door. “Wait, are they leaving?”

“Your girl wrote a note saying she was leaving, and she left. Without more evidence, there’s not a lot they can do,” Casey said.

“But—Colborn?”

“That does make it interesting. They still aren’t going to find her by sitting around here.” Casey shrugged.

Grant closed the door behind the cops.

“That’s it? That’s all we’re doing?” Riley glared at Grant.

“I don’t want to hear it from you.” Grant held up his hand.

“Guys!” Melody stepped between them, breaking Riley’s line of sight. “Stop. Zain has an update.”

Melody carried her laptop to the dining table. Everyone gathered around and in a few moments, Zain was staring back at them. Judging by the suit jacket hung on a hook behind him and the loose tie around his neck, he hadn’t yet been to sleep.

“I’ll make this quick. The link Erin found doesn’t just lead back to the video. Once you remove the file name, you get—” Zain twisted and frowned at something off screen. “Erin’s laptop is online.”

“Can you find it?” Riley leaned forward.

“I’m working on it. I’m working.”

Grant pushed to his feet. “Everyone, get suited up. We’re bringing Erin home.”

“I shouldn’t be here for this,” Casey muttered.

“It’s bring your brother to work day.” Riley grabbed Casey and hauled him toward the stashed gear.

They’d need every capable person if they were going up against the black ops side of Allied Security.

THURSDAY. UNKNOWN, Texas.

Erin shrank away from Khalil. He grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her to him. The twelve-inch, fixed blade knife wasn’t a toy. She’d had one like it during her deployment. He’d left her alone for a few minutes and come back like this. Completely enraged.

Khalil sliced through the restraints binding her wrists together in one move, then cut the ones around her ankles without saying a word.

She stared at her hands, then at Khalil.

He’d spent hours on her laptop.

That was a stupid move.

With detailed information about the company facilities, Khalil could organize devastating attacks on all sites. She’d only meant to show him the truth, get him to help her stop Mark and his team. Instead she’d handed him the keys to what was undoubtedly a bigger revenge plan.

Khalil pushed to his feet and paced from one side of the building to the other.

What had he discovered? What plans was he making?

Erin glanced at the laptop sitting on the concrete a few yards away.

Could she grab it and run? Or should she just run?

“He did it.” Khalil whirled around and stared at her.

“W-what? Who? Did what?” Erin swallowed, her throat so dry it hurt.

“Mark.” Khalil pointed the knife at the laptop. “He did it.”

“I-I don’t understand, Khalil. Can you explain it to me?”

Khalil lunged at her, the blade still in hand and shouted, “He’s the one who did it! He killed them.”

She held up her hands and shrank down farther. “I know. It’s terrible. That’s why I’m trying to get that video to the police.”

“No. No. No, you don’t understand.” Khalil wheeled away from her and stalked across to the laptop. He grabbed it by the screen and dragged it across to Erin. “Watch.”

He ripped the headphones out of the jack and tapped the track pad.

The scene was not familiar to her, but the people were.

Erin gasped and covered her mouth.

Those were the faces burned into her mind. The people who’d died because she hadn’t done enough. She hadn’t convinced enough people that there were errors in the project.

Khalil hit the play button.

The man in the foreground, decked out in cammo, had his face covered. Except for his eyes. She’d stared at Mark Forest’s picture long enough to know him.

“This is the requested proof of job completion. This satisfies invoice one-zero—zero-eight.”

“No. No. No.” Erin covered her eyes.

“He didn’t shoot them. He couldn’t. At the same time Mark’s company was supposed to be protecting your people, he was hired to stop the facility from being built. He used the blood of my family to make it happen.”

Erin peered out from between her fingers.

Khalil pressed pause.

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“He killed my family for profit and made it look like your accident. He played both sides.” He stared at Erin, the sorrow so deeply rooted she didn’t know if he’d ever know how to smile. “How do people like this get away with it?”

“Greed. Someone is always willing to do something for the right price.” She swiped at her cheeks.

“They were invoice one thousand and eight. Does that mean...?” Khalil’s brow furrowed. He was still a kid under all that anger. A kid who’d been hurt, abandoned and alone. “I’ve thought this whole time that they died because you made a mistake. I’ve hated you.”

Invoice 1008. 2394. She didn’t want to think about what all the numbers in-between meant.

Erin stared at the screen frozen on a long view of what looked like a bonfire under the desert sky.

“Khalil, how did you find this video?” she asked.

“There are hundreds of them.” He reached over and tapped the back button.

Row upon row of files filled the screen. Each with a number.

The invoice.

“Oh, my God,” she muttered in English. She switched back to Arabic as her mind finally begun sparking. “Mark’s people killed your family and blew up our facility. NexGen didn’t hire them to do that. Why would they? That cost the company money. The bad press still influences some of their deals...”

Mark had gotten lazy if he thought listing out all the video evidence of his work on a single server was the answer. If she were in his shoes, he’d know when someone accessed their video.

Which meant...

“Khalil? Do you know where Mark is?”

“Somewhere near here. He was supposed to help me escape the country.”

Oh, fuck...

“We have to go now. We have to get to the police.” Erin grabbed his hand.

An engine rumbled in the distance, coming closer.

Mark wasn’t stupid. He’d keep tabs on when his customers accessed his files, which meant Khalil had sent up a flare the moment he started digging. They’d brought Mark to them.

Khalil scrambled to his feet, grabbing the laptop as he went.

Erin stood and glanced at the back door. She shoved the younger man.

“Go. Run, before we’re trapped!”

THURSDAY. CONSTRUCTION Site, Southlake, Texas.

Mark pushed the passenger side door open and peered at the four-story construction site.

Someone—probably Khalil—had broken in and left the gate open. Stupid. Anyone driving by could see it and call it in.

“They’re here somewhere,” Mark said.

The server had pinged this location up until sixty seconds ago.

“Spread out. Find them.” He glanced over his shoulder at the eight men still with him.

He’d lost some, but like Thomas, he’d take care of them in time. The men who joined this team knew there were only two ways off it. They didn’t get to just not show up for work. It didn’t work that way for them.

“I see movement,” one of the guys on the right flank called out.

Another man shone a spotlight, illuminating the forms of two people ducking between the incomplete walls on the first floor. Mark’s men moved like the well-oiled machine they were. Half went right, the other half moved to flank the duo.

“Khalil—stop!” Mark bellowed.

Two of his men darted into the building, shouting.

Mark jogged to catch up.

Khalil was a smart kid. Too smart for his own good. Mark had known Khalil’s usefulness might run its course, and today was that day. At least he’d brought Mark the big fish.

“Over here,” one of Mark’s men called out.

Mark slowed his gate.

He was going to have to kill them both and pull the plug on his server. He’d lose business and some credibility, but it was worth covering his ass.

“Khalil? I thought we had an understanding.” Mark came to a stop next to his man.

“They’re behind that stack of pallets,” the man said.

“Moving to flank,” a voice said through the headset.

In a few moments Mark would have the two pinned down and this problem over. Finally.

He was taking a damn vacation after this.

“Khalil, I only want the laptop and the woman,” Mark called out.

“You lie,” Khalil shouted, his voice echoing off the walls of concrete.

“Switching to infrared,” the man next to Mark said.

Mark pitched his voice low, “When you have the shot, take it.”

“Mark Forest?” This time it was the woman. Erin Lopez. The cockroach that wouldn’t die.

“Ms. Lopez, I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this,” Mark said.

“I know you want to kill me, and if you kill me, you’re going to kill Khalil, too. I just want you to know that if you do that—if you kill us—an email will go out to the police and every news station. If you don’t want that to happen, you have to let us go.”

“She’s bluffing,” Mark said, both for his own peace of mind and those men listening to him.

“I’ve got them,” the man said.

The blast of gunfire sounded far louder in the silence of the night than it should have.

Khalil screamed.

“Got him,” Mark muttered.

“They moved,” the shooter said.

“Let’s move in. They’ve got nothing.” Mark took a step forward.

Another bullet ripped through the night and this time, the man to Mark’s right pitched forward, landing in the dirt.

“Stop right there,” an unknown man shouted.

“Police!”