Page 61 of Freeing Savannah

Voodoo chuckled—but it didn’t last. “So, what’d he give us?”

“Classified Chinese documents. Guess who signed a backchannel trade agreement with a Chinese state-owned energy giant three years ago?”

Voodoo leaned against the wall. “Don’t say it.”

“Senator McNabney. It was supposed to be an ‘exchange of cultural and energy cooperation,’ but it was a front. The real deal was Chinese surveillance tech in exchange for exclusive drilling rights in Central Asia. It was handed off to another party, another deal. And guess who those surveillance systems weretested on?”

His stomach clenched. He started walking again, making his way outside. “Dissident groups. Journalists.”

“Bingo. One of the pilot programs targeted an underground university in Azerbaijan that taught uncensored history. The campus disappeared. Literally.”

Voodoo’s hand tightened around the comm. “This is bigger than we thought.”

His instincts flared. Across the alleyway, two men stood too still, too tense. Not part of the crew he’d already identified. One of them tapped at his ear and nodded.

“Haley. Two untagged assets at my twelve. Not security. Weapons under their jackets.”

“Cameras show two more at the loading dock. A team?”

“Possibly. What’s their purpose?”

“Running facial rec.”

He was about to respond when movement caught his eye. Tomas Esposito, one of the sound engineers from Savannah’s tour crew, stepped out of an employee door and made his way to the unsubs. They stood in hushed conversation, and their posture wasn’t casual. It was tactical.

Voodoo didn’t hesitate.

He moved quickly, sticking to the shadows, coming around the opposite corner.

As soon as Tomas spotted him, the others scattered like cockroaches. One vaulted a railing, another disappeared down a maintenance stairwell. Tomas raced to the door he’d left propped open. He attempted to let it shut behind him since itwould lock immediately, but Voodoo was faster. He grabbed the heavy steel door before it could slam shut and hurled himself through the opening, bursting into the narrow service hallway beyond.

Voodoo rounded a corner just in time to see the man duck down another hall. He pushed harder, lungs burning, boots pounding. Tomas charged ahead. Straight toward the dressing rooms.

Straight toward Savannah.

“Son of a—” Voodoo was already in pursuit.

Tomas shoved past startled stagehands and barreled through a curtain, sprinting down the back hallway. Voodoo closed the distance fast, adrenaline sharpening every step.

Tomas burst through the dressing room door. Voodoo heard a startled squeak from Savannah. Quick on his prey’s heels, Voodoo surged into the room as Savannah staggered back in a flowing green gown, eyes wide. Tomas sprang toward her, reaching for her arm.

Voodoo didn't hesitate; he launched himself at the man, tackling him to the ground with a grunt. Tomas flailed, moaning as Voodoo drove a knee into his gut. He heaved, muscles straining, trying to throw Voodoo off, but there was no way he was going to get the upper hand on a SEAL.

He slammed his elbow into Tomas’s temple. The man crumpled to the floor.

Voodoo climbed off the man and kneeled to cuff Tomas’s wrists with a zip tie he always kept on him.

“Sawyer?” Her voice trembled.

“He was coming for you.” His tone was steel, gaze not leaving the unconscious man. “You okay?”

She nodded slowly, but her face was pale. “Is that Tomas?”

“Yeah. Supposedly one of us,” Voodoo muttered. “Or so we thought.”

Haley’s voice crackled in his ear. “I lost the others. Got pics, though. Working on IDing them.”

“We’ve got a mole on the tour. Tomas Esposito.”

---