Page 1 of Bravo

CHAPTER 1

BRADYN

Sweat beads along my brow, but I don’t dare wipe it away. Weapon trained straight ahead, I move near soundlessly through the jungle with my German shepherd, Bravo, at my side. He doesn’t make a sound either, both pointed ears poised as he listens for any sounds that might mean someone is onto us.

So far, so good, though. I pray our luck stays strong.

“We’re closing in on the north side,” Alpha team whispers through my earpiece. They aren’t my men, but over the last couple of months, we’ve worked so closely together that they feel like an extension of my family.

“Zulu is closing in on the south.” Another callout whispered in my earpiece.

“Foxtrot is nearly on the east side.”

I glance over at the only other man currently on my team. Silas Williamson, my cousin on my mother’s side, is a former Navy SEAL turned private security operative. Since my brothers were all otherwise occupied, with one finishing up another job and the others working our family ranch in Texas, I called him in to help me wrap this thing up.

And even though he currently resides on the East Coast with his pregnant wife and the niece he’s raising since his sister’s passing, he didn’t hesitate to step up and help.

He offers me a nod, so I whisper, “Bravo is closing in on the west.”

It’s been three months of me living off of MREs and sleeping only four hours a night. Three months of solo work, tracking men across the ocean and through jungles on the other side of the world. And, hopefully, all of this is about to come to a happy ending.

Well, as happy as it can be.

I can only pray we’re not too late.

What started as a missing person’s case turned into a full-on human trafficking bust. Thirty-seven girls aged fourteen to twenty-two were traced back to the same place our girl went missing. A gas station out of San Antonio.

And now, with God on our side, we’re about to take thirty-seven names off the missing person’s roster.

Ahead, a branch creaks, and I shift my weapon, peering into the jungle as I prepare for someone to come out of the brush—but no one does. A bird takes off into the sky, a screechingcawfilling the air as it goes, so I keep moving forward, my gaze trained ahead except for the moments I shift it to check Bravo’s body language.

Aside from my brothers and Silas, the German shepherd is the only one I trust to always have my back. He’s sharp, fast, and lethal when necessary.

That is unless we’re home and my mom is sneaking steak into his dog bowl. Then, he’s a hundred-pound ball of goofy fluff.

Home.

How I cannot wait for mom’s home-cooked meals, sleeping in my own bed, and watching the sun rise over the ranch.Soon,I remind myself. Soon, I’ll be home, and what will make it even better is that these girls will be with their families, too.

Finally, the building comes into view.

According to our inside source, the structure is comprised entirely of cinderblocks they flew in so they could keep the construction of this place off any record. We’re in the middle of a jungle in South America where the nearest coastline is a three-day walk. If we hadn’t found an inside source, we likely never would’ve found the place.

But we did. And here we are.

Thank God.

Shots ring out, booming through my earpiece and echoing through the jungle. Birds scatter, and Silas and I both hold our position—the shots aren’t being fired at us.

“Shots fired, shots fired! Zulu team pinned!”

Silas and I pick up speed with Bravo maintaining right beside me. We sprint through the plants and trees, still doing our best to keep our steps as quiet as possible. My back presses against hot concrete as we take positions on either side of the door. With the teams engaged in gunfire, our hope is that we can get in and get the girls out so they aren’t caught in the line of fire.

Silas bows his head for a moment, and I do the same.

God, protect us. Guide us so we can rescue these girls. Please, Lord. Be with us. In the name of Jesus. Amen.

I open my eyes and wait for Silas to do the same.

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