Page 73 of Her Forever SEAL

Fourteen years old.

A kid who had grabbed his daughter's hand in a parking lot and refused to let go until someone broke her arm to make her.

He pressed his jaw tight and looked at the whiteboard until the feeling had somewhere to go.

He saw his wife looking at him.

“But she’s fine. Made it through the surgery like a champ.”

“Like a champ,” Mason repeated.

Lydia said something short and loud into her headset. Then she swiveled in her chair to face the room.

“Clint’s got it narrowed down to three people. Each one of them is Boko Haram, and Midnight Delta has either captured or killed someone close to them. Now it’s a matter of finding opportunity. We need another hour.”

“Good, three’s a workable number. What about Kayla's phone?” he asked.

“We looked at that first thing,” Rylie said. “It went dark twenty-two minutes after she was taken. Last ping put it moving north on the Fifteen, which is consistent with the van's direction based on witness accounts from the parking lot. After that—” She shook her head. “Gone. Either they pulled the battery or they destroyed it.”

“Where on the Fifteen?”

“Just past Miramar.”

Mason absorbed that. North. There was a lot of north to work with. The Fifteen went all the way up and they didn't know if the van stayed on it or cut east or doubled back. Twenty-two minutes at freeway speed—the radius was a circle he didn't want to think about.

He looked at Angie. “Tell me what the FBI has.”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what do they have right now? What's Cruz running?”

Angie and Rylie exchanged a brief look. “Fuck, Mason, you’re right.” Angie was clearly upset with herself. “We didn’t tap into them to make sure we were getting everything they were piecing together.” She lifted her head. “Lydia,” she called out.

“Yeah!” Lydia responded.

“Got a second?”

Lydia spoke into her mic, then swiveled around to face the room. “What do you need?”

“Mason brought it up. We should be tapping into the FBI system. Making sure that we have whatever they have.”

Lydia’s eyebrows shot up. She looked over at Mason. “You’re right.”

“How long will that take you to set up?”

She sucked in a breath. “With both me and Clint? Maybe an hour, two max. Me alone, we’re talking four to five hours.”

“I can help,” Rylie piped up.

“Good,” Mason said. “Lydia, keep Clint on finding whoever is behind this. You work with Rylie on getting into the FBI.” He turned to Angie. “You, me and Sophia, can we work the Mary angle?”

She nodded.

23

Lydia had Clint on speaker.

His voice came through clearly despite the distance.