Page 102 of Cyclone

“I need you on a plane.”

“Where?”

“Southern Europe. Off-grid training facility. Female target extraction. Name’s Emery Blake. You did say you were ready to get back to work.”

I frowned. “Yes, are you talking about the swimmer?”

“Yeah. Gold medals and magazine covers she vanished three days ago. No ransom. No demands. Not a single goddamn trace.”

“Why me?”

“She’s got fight. And she’s scared. She needs someone who can calm a fire without putting it out.”

Emery Blake: Olympic royalty. America’s Golden swimmer. And now... missing.

Cyclone’s voice dropped lower. “Oliver—whoever has her? They’re not amateurs. If she’s still alive, it’s only because they want something.”

I straightened.

Coffee forgotten. Mind already racing.

“I’m ready right now.”

“Wheels up in two hours. I’ll meet you there.”

I hung up and looked around the kitchen. I needed to tell Olly goodbye. I walked next door to Lyon’s home and took Olly’s suitcase to Niki.

“Are you sure you're up to babysitting a five-year-old boy? He has so much energy.”

I love Olly, of course, I am up for watching him. How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know,” I said, explaining everything about Emery Blake and how she had disappeared without a trace.

I hope you find her. Are you going to the school to tell Olly goodbye?”

“Yes, I’m headed there right now. Thank you, Niki. I’m so glad Olly has you living this close. I'd better get going.”

59

Emery

Waking up hurt worse than getting hit.

My head throbbed. My mouth was dry. My wrists burned.

I blinked against the dark, the edges of the room swimming as my eyes adjusted.

Concrete walls.

Metal door.

No windows.

One camera.

Red light blinking.

Great.

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