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“Shut up and listen, Torres.”
He straightened at the sharp edge in his boss’s voice.
“A woman was kidnapped at the Sandoval Hotel in Gatlinburg. She’s being held on Hart Mountain. Zane sent you her coordinates. Since you’re currently hiking the trails on Hart Mountain instead of sleeping like a normal person and you’re the closest operative, you drew the short straw.”
A frown. Zane had her coordinates? “How do you know where she is?”
“A GPS tracker is embedded under the skin at her lower back.”
Uneasiness curled in Rafe’s gut. Why did this woman have a GPS tracker? “Since you know her location, why not send in law enforcement?”
“The kidnappers warned her father not to involve the police or his daughter would pay the price.”
He rolled his eyes. Kidnappers always made that stipulation. “Details?”
“Zane sent the relevant security cam footage.”
While Maddox spoke, Rafe brought up the video clip. Although unable to see the vic’s face, he watched the kidnapper pull a stun gun from his pocket, slip up on the vic, and jam the device against her neck. She stiffened and dropped to the floor. The kidnapper hoisted her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and walked quickly to the stairs.
“At least two kidnappers were involved in the grab-and-go,” Maddox said. “Not sure yet if there are more people involved. The ransom demand is for $5 million, and the payment deadline is in six hours.”
Rafe frowned, his stomach twisting into a knot. Something about the victim was familiar. “When did they take her?”
“Ten o’clock last night. Hotel security saw the abduction on camera, but by the time they mobilized, the kidnappers were gone with the woman.”
A ten-hour deadline of $5 million? Who had that much money sitting around in an account? “Do I have backup?”
“On the way, but Durango is two hours out. Coordinate with Cahill.”
“Instructions after I have the package?”
“Take her to Otter Creek.”
Rafe’s brows knitted. Wouldn’t she prefer to go home to her father, boyfriend, or husband? “Who’s the vic?”
“Kristi Stewart, owner of Kristi’s Bridal.”
He stiffened. No way. “Send in Durango. Two hours won’t make a difference. I can’t do this, Brent.”
“Explain.”
“No.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
A growl. “I know she ran in the same social circles as Callie. Suck it up and deal, Torres. Callie is dead, and Kristi will be, too, if you don’t man up and take the mission.”
“The kidnappers want money. Her father has that much in petty cash. End of story.”
“They threatened to cut Kristi into pieces and mail her body back to her father if he missed the deadline. While he might agree to pay the money, you and I know they won’t release her. Move, Torres. That’s an order.” Maddox ended the call, effectively forcing Rafe’s hand.
He stuffed the raw pain ripping at his insides behind a mental wall, checked the tracking program for Kristi’s location, and grimaced. Great. Kristi was on the other side of the mountain, a hard hour of fast hiking off the trail to reach her. Based on the coordinates, she was likely being held in one of the rental cabins popular with tourists during the summer.
Rafe adjusted his pack for a more comfortable fit and set off at a fast pace. At least he was armed, although not as heavily as he would have liked. No bullet-resistant vest. Guess he’d have to dodge bullets if the kidnappers discovered him.
He skirted fallen trees and boulders, all the while moving toward Kristi Stewart. He dreaded the coming encounter with the society princess. Maddox was right. Callie, the woman he’d loved and lost to a crew of killers three years earlier, had been friends with Kristi. Although Rafe hadn’t spent much time with her, he’d been aware of Kristi and her father, Alan Stewart, owner of Stewart Group.
