Page 112 of The Wrecked One

“And by out, you mean swim to the yacht you have anchored?” Better than jumping from a plane, I supposed.

He nodded. “You’ll have an underwater sea scooter.” Wyatt jerked a thumb toward the window, the vast expanse of the Persian Gulf’s waters the only thing in sight.

“Not having us Phelps it out to the yacht, then?” At least I could still make a joke at a time like this, but based on Wyatt’s confused expression, that joke was lost on him.

“Anyway, I think we should get your parents off the island as early as possible as well.” Ah, there was the reason for the facial expression, not because of my comedy attempt. “The yacht will serve as our TOC, and Jessica will be there, too.”

Jessica Hayes was married to Asher, Bravo Three, and she co-ran Bravo with her brother. She often stayed back at their tactical operations center while the guys went out, similar to what Gwen and I did on missions.

My mood soured at the mention of my parents, though. No more teasing to break the tension. Not from me, at least.

“Who’s taking us to the yacht, and who stays with us once we’re there?” I hated leaving Oliver and the others on that island, but I also didn’t want them to be distracted by trying to keep us alive in the midst of warfare. God forbid Oliver needed to sacrifice himself for the hundredth time to protect me. Nope, not on my watch. Not again.

“I’ll personally escort you, and Teddy and Easton will work to secure your parents and get them out to you. We can’t be present in the arena for part one of the night, since we’re not part of Falcon, but we’ll be there waiting for what comes next, I promise,” Wyatt remarked in a steady voice.

The Sorens hadn’t mentioned Teddy or Easton last night, which was why they’d be infil’ing with Wyatt and the others after we arrived. Even though I was sure the Sorens knew about them, because of what happened in Canada because of Steve, we weren’t about to bring up their names at the party.

“They’ll have to knock your parents out with something, then pull them through the water.” Wyatt swapped a quick look with Teddy who’d remained quiet. “Two SEALs from Charlie Team will be at our TOC with Jessica. I recruited them to the team myself, so they’re who I want watching you.” That comment was definitely meant for Gwen’s sake, her father’s eyes fully locked on to hers. “Once you’re all on board, Teddy will remain with you while I head back to the island to help the others.”

“Won’t you need all the help you can get on the island? Maybe not leave three or more people to babysit us,” Gwen suggested.

I was glad she said it, but I still didn’t want to think about how much help the team might truly need. Definitely not if there was going to be some crooked CIA guy there trying to help the Sorens one-up us by seeking out Brutus’s help.

“This is non-negotiable. If I don’t feel you’re safe when I leave you on that yacht, then?—”

“Fine, fine,” Gwen cut off her father. “I suppose they can also be backup in case you need an extra hand at any point. You will be on comms, right? Or will the signals be jammed so we can’t use them to talk with you all?”

Signals blocked? I blinked at the reminder that . . . “Do you think my parents did know what happened in Thailand? Did my father steal intel from Sydney’s dad about our trackers and pass that information over to the Sorens to help them? Maybe he didn’t know they planned to kill me.” Why am I thinking about this?

“It’s possible your signal was blocked with some premium tech, and that’s why the trackers stopped transmitting. The Sorens would cover all bases.” A valid point from Gray. “Regardless of whether your parents helped them in Thailand or not, I doubt they knew their plans when you were held captive, or that they’d planned to take down our jet once we took off in Singapore. If they wanted to save you in Canada, then . . .” He let go of his words, opting to let me draw my own conclusion.

The only one I could draw was that it didn’t matter at this point how much they knew and when they knew it. Because they didn’t care about my friends, who were now more of a family to me than they ever were. They’d tried to have them killed in Canada by threatening Steve’s mother and sister, and that was enough to convince me they were evil.

Gray cleared his throat, likely trying to kill the awkwardness and redirected to Gwen’s original question. “They won’t jam the signals. Hell, they can’t.”

“Oh, shit, you’re right,” Mason said. “Nicholas is livestreaming the whole event back to his guests. Can’t exactly kill the signals.”

Good point. One less thing to worry about. At least we’d have comms. I dropped that train of thought when Jesse came into the room, pulling a shirt over his head.

“Doesn’t mean the Sorens won’t try to do that, though.” And there went Gray, killing my concerned-about-one-less-thing moment. “We’ll anticipate the worst, hope for the best,” he added.

Pivoting to Jesse for now, and away from doom-and-gloom thoughts, I asked him, “Where’s Oliver?”

“Taking a shower,” he answered. “I forced him to stop practicing, or he won’t have any energy for the fight tonight.”

“Which is in four hours,” Mason reminded us.

But I didn’t need the reminder. There was already an eerie countdown ticking away in my head, impossible to forget.

“I’m going to check on him. Let me know if anything new comes up before Nicholas sends his team here to escort us to the island.” I scanned the room, prepared to take off when Gwen stopped me in my tracks.

“Shit, it worked. Our hacker got my message. They’re inside the chat box with me now and typing.” Gwen slumped back in her seat, a puzzled expression on her face. “All it says is, ‘Message relayed. Be in touch.’ Then they exited the chat.”

“Wait, relayed?” More puzzle pieces clicked into place. “The hacker works for our insider but isn’t actually our insider.”

“Which means it has to be someone in Sly’s tight circle, and presumably back in Arizona,” Gray responded as Gwen began typing. “Narrow down a list of everyone close to Sly and?—”

“His wife,” Carter interrupted him, dragging his hands through his hair. “It’s Sly’s wife. She’d have access to his laptop and could go through his files the way . . .” He shook his head, closing his eyes as bad memories must’ve come to mind.

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