“Its potential to kill millions of people, you mean?”
“Hey, war is a dirty business, but it’s still business. They may be required to report it to the CDC before they issue it as a drug, but they could eventually sell it to our government, even if only to keep it from the hands of any other government, and they know it. Bringing him home is a huge priority for them.”
“And Lennix? What about bringing her home?”
He shakes his head, his expression grave. “The kidnapper has tied their hands on it. Maybe they can talk this guy down and convince him to cut his losses, grab the ransom, and run without the vaccine, but I’m not sure we’ll get there in forty-eight hours.”
He pauses, flicks me a careful glance. “The best we can hope for on this abbreviated timeline is that the kidnapper stretches out the threat of killing Lennix.”
“Stretches it out? What do you mean?”
“Instead of killing the hostage right away, it’s common practice for kidnappers to…assert pressure by sending fingers, toes—”
“Fuck!” The expletive explodes from my mouth. I pull my hair until it hurts and pace my office like a trapped animal.
“I can’t take it, Grim.” I stand still long enough to tell him. “Getting her back in pieces…” I close my eyes and drag in a breath tainted with fear and rage. “What do you recommend?”
“If we can activate that tracking device remotely, we may be able to attempt a rescue, but we should try a conversation with this guy first.”
“A conversation? With the man who held a gun to her head? I don’t want a conversation with him. I want him to know how it feels to have a gun held to his head…for about thirty seconds before I blow it off.”
“King—”
“I’m serious, Grim. I don’t want to negotiate with the guy on that video. He killed an old man to prove a damn point. He’ll kill Nix, so I’m killing him first.”
Grim scowls his exasperation. “It’s not a matter of packing a lunch and taking off for the jungle. A rescue mission in conditions like these would require extensive tactical planning, strategy, assembling the best team possible. Time.”
“We don’t have time. We have to get her out of there.”
“In half these K&R rescues, someone dies. Often the hostage.”
That alarming truth sinks in alongside the just-as-alarming alternatives.
“Let me at least try to speak with him,” he says. “I asked CamTech’s negotiator to inquire, to see if this guy will talk to us.”
“And?”
“He will.”
“When?”
“Today. If you’re saying yes, we’ll try to talk to him as soon as we can.”
“We don’t have time to waste, Grim.”
“Believe me, I’m aware.”
* * *
“You have to let me handle this.”
I nod and keep my face straight when Grim says it. If he suspects how close I am to completely losing my mind, he’ll try to lock me out of the room. And I refuse to miss even one second of this negotiation call. I douse my whole being in Namaste and hope Grim doesn’t detect the shackled demon under the three-piece suit.
“Maxim, excuse me,” Jin Lei says from the office door. “Kimba’s here, and she has Mr. Hunter with her.”
I thought the first time I met Nix’s father would be at Christmas or some special occasion. She’d introduce me. Her dad and I would get to know each other over a beer and maybe a football game. I’d be nervous in that way a man is when he meets the father of the woman he loves. I’d have time to convince him I was worthy of his daughter, even though I know I’ll never be good enough for Lennix.
Now, I just don’t give a damn. When I get her back, I’m keeping her. I’m nervous about this first time meeting her father, but there’s a lot more at stake than his blessing.
“Mr. Hunter,” I say, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “Thank you for coming right away.”
“Of course. Thank you for the, uh…plane.”
His uncertain smile reminds me I’m not the guy most girls bring home. In some ways, there’s less mystery because he feels he already knows me, but most of what he’s heard is probably bullshit, so he knows less than he thinks he does. It will take time to sort the truth of who I am from the gossip and speculation. And right now, time is one thing we don’t have.
“Glad you made it,” I tell Mr. Hunter, splitting a glance between him and Kimba. “Grim’s about to speak with Abe.”
“Abe?” Kimba’s dark brows crinkle.
“What else should I call him? Coward, maybe? Hiding behind that mask.”
Grim walks over to shake hands with Mr. Hunter and Kimba.
“We’re expecting the call in the next minute or so.” Grim gestures to a table in the middle of my office. “You’ll hear us on speaker, but I’ll use the handset so he’s only actually speaking to me. We’ll also be recording the conversation to review it later in case he gives anything away about their location or any other pertinent details.”
“So there’s no lead on where they might be?” Anxiety spikes Mr. Hunter’s voice.
Grim and I exchange a look, silently asking each other how much we should divulge. Hell, if Nix was my daughter, I’d want to know it all.
“We’re working on a lead,” I say. “I, um, gave Nix a bracelet before she left.”
“I saw it,” Kimba says with a smile. “It was beautiful.”
“There’s a tracking device in it,” I say, refusing to look away when her eyes widen then narrow.
“Does she know?” Kimba’s tone turns starchy.
“No, I hadn’t activated it. I wanted to discuss it with her before I took that step.”
“Considerate of you,” she drawls.
“It’s standard practice for the significant others, wives, and girlfriends of men like Maxim to wear such devices,” Grim says absently, not looking at us but checking the telecommunications setup.
“Girlfriend?” Mr. Hunter asks, brows lifted.
“Oh.” Grim glances up and looks between Mr. Hunter and me. He shrugs. “Sorry.”
Thanks for that, Grim.
“Here we go.” Grim presses a button, which switches on a green light, and he picks up the phone. “Hello.”
“Well, hello,” the caller says. I recognize the taunting voice. “I heard you want to discuss my little squaw.”
I nearly lunge at the phone. This motherfucker.
I bite into my frustration, let it burst in my mouth like a bitter pill. My hands curl into fists in my pockets. I think I’m doing a decent job disguising my anger until I look up to find Mr. Hunter watching me, glancing from my tight jaw to the bunched fists I’m hiding. An answering outrage flashes in his eyes, and we just nod to each other in recognition. Losing our tempers won’t help Lennix.
“Yes, I’m authorized to negotiate Lennix Hunter’s freedom,” Grim says, his tone brisk, professional.
“Freedom?” Abe’s laugh echoes harshly in my office. “Who said anything about freedom? I entertained this call to let the arrogant prick who thinks he can buy his way into my good graces know that he can’t.”