Page 11 of How Much For A Broken Heart?

Luca paused his flicking through paperwork, and his expression hardened as he leaned in closer, determined. I knew what he’d focused in on, and it wasn’t all the bullshit about danger.

“A kid, huh?” Luca said, his voice low. “I’m in.” Then, he glanced at me, and we exchanged nods. “I’m in.”

Simon redirected the focus of the briefing. “Our asset is on site, August Fox, undercover as Aubrey Mitchell, responsible for the intel we have so far, responsible for getting us the info to get the kids out from the trafficking. His extraction is not on the list, okay? Rescuing the child is our top priority.”

I could see the resolve in Luca’s eyes. “Okay. We get the kid out safe,” he stated, a sentiment I echoed with a nod. There was an unspoken understanding between us. We’d faced tough situations before, but the involvement of a child made this mission different, more personal.

“We’ll need to get in and out fast,” Simon continued, pointing to the satellite image. “The compound is heavily guarded, and the terrain is challenging. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

Luca was already studying the map. “Easy,” he muttered. “Cut the power. You can do that I assume?”

Simon looked to Cain, who nodded.

“Then, you just make sure we’re ready for a quick extraction,” he said, his tone all business now. “Always up for a challenge,” he added, leaning in to study the intel. “Although Cap’s gonna be missed.” We fist bumped, a gesture that mourned Ethan wouldn’t be on this one with us.

“Yeah,” I replied, the weight of his absence hanging in the air. “But he’s safe, and that’s what matters.”

“I just miss having the old team together,” Luca said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

“We all do,” I agreed, feeling the gap Ethan’s absence left in our trio.

“But hey, we’ve got a job to do,” Luca said, shaking off the somber mood. “Let’s make sure we do it so well that Ethan’s kicking himself for missing out.”

I grinned, nodding. “Just don’t get us killed with your ‘expert’ driving,” I teased.

Luca pretended to be offended. “I’ll have you know; my driving has only improved. You’re in safe hands, buddy.”

Simon cleared his throat, bringing our focus back to the task at hand. “Let’s get down to the details. We have a tight window.”

Luca rolled his neck. “So, what is the kid doing in there?”

I could answer that one. “Annie Lerner. She was kidnapped the same day that her dad, James Lerner was killed. She would have been nearly two when she was taken, so that puts her at four now. She has a permanent nanny in the compound—Clara—and that’s all we have, just the name of the woman, no facial rec matches.”

Simon threw up photos of others, in a kind of hierarchy. “People you need to know. This is Amos, and again there’s no facial rec that we can match him to, and nothing August can get to us about him. What we do know is that he’s responsible for communicating between lieutenants on the ground and whoever is running the cartel.”

“Is Amos a target?” Luca asked.

Simon shook his head. “No targets. The deal is you get in, get the kid, get out. August is staying under, feeding us intel, but he won’t make any moves until his daughter is safe. Do not burn him.”

“Just the kid. Got it.”

Simon and Luca chatted, but my thoughts were already inside that compound, with the child who needed our help. The stakes were high, and failure was not an option.

* * *

Two days later, Luca and I were in position, hunkered down in a concealed spot with a clear view of the compound. Getting to this point involved a day’s hike in from the only road into this area, and we’d been dropped a good five miles outside that on the highway. The terrain was rocky, then scrubby, then there was climbing, but we were both in good shape, and we managed to get to the compound a couple of hours before dusk. For the night and through the next day, we took turns observing and noting every detail—when everyone ate, when the compound was busiest, and when it was quiet. We had our binoculars trained on the building, scanning for any sign of the child, and we’d fallen into the quiet no-conversation we’d used when we served. I knew him so well he could glance at me, and I understood what he was trying to say.

I spotted movement in one of the windows. A young woman with long dark hair appeared, and right beside her was a child, no more than four years old, chatting animatedly and jumping on the spot. Relief washed over me—the kid was here, and from the looks of it, in good spirits.

Luca shifted beside me, staring through his binoculars, then held up five fingers, four times. Young, maybe early twenties.

He meant the woman with the girl. I shrugged. No intel.

We watched as the woman led the child across a room, her demeanor gentle, protective, and she smiled a lot. The child clung to a small toy, oblivious that she shouldn’t even be there. At her age, what would she have remembered of a previous life?

Luca glanced at me. A kid in a situation like this was a dangerous thing— more chance of panic during extraction, and he raised an eyebrow. Do we take the nanny too?

Boots on the ground decision.

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