Page 64 of Freeing Savannah

The humid night air hung thick around them as the waters of the Pearl River lapped quietly at the stone embankment just beyond the floodlights. Guangzhou’s skyline shimmered behind them, a far cry from the tense meeting unfolding in the shadows.

A pair of Zodiac boats cut across the water, silent and low, and came ashore near the service dock. Mustang was the first to step out, the lean, commanding presence of the SEAL team leader instantly shifting the gravity of the space. Behind him came Midas, Jag, Aleck, Pid, and Slate. Each geared up and ready, eyes sharp, expressions grim.

Mustang met Voodoo’s gaze, then looked past him at the man zip-tied and kneeling on the concrete, blood dried to the corner of his mouth.

“This the bastard?” Mustang asked.

“Yeah,” Voodoo said. “Tomas Esposito. Crewman on Savannah’s tour. Also a contractor running backdoor ops for McNabney. Tried to reach her dressing room with intent to kill—or silence. Your pick.”

“Hell,” Mustang muttered, then signaled for Slate and Aleck to take Tomas into custody. The man didn’t resist, but his smirk stayed fixed as if he still had cards to play.

“You’re not gonna like what he knows,” Voodoo added darkly.

Mustang exhaled sharply through his nose. “Flint briefed me on the trip over. Said to tell you he’s pulling in favors. Congressional contacts. Intelligence liaisons. Even someone from Interpol.”

“Going for the kill,” Voodoo said.

“As he should,” Mustang replied.

Voodoo turned slightly, his hand still resting on Savannah’s hip. She was silent, eyes cast toward the river as if trying to find peace in its steady movement. Mustang followed his gaze.

“She okay?”

“No,” Voodoo said honestly. “But she’s strong.”

Savannah looked up at that. “I’m tired of being used,” she said quietly. “I want to help take him down.”

Mustang gave her a long look. “Then you stay close to him,” he said, nodding to Voodoo. “We’ll do the rest.”

Jag stepped up beside Mustang, holding a data stick.

“We searched Tomas’s hotel room. This was hidden in a secret pouch inside the lining of his suitcase. Haley’s already on it. There’s shipping manifests and encrypted messages tied to weapons shipments.”

Voodoo’s brows lifted. “What kind of weapons?”

“Looks like small arms, surveillance drones. She’s working through the layers. Whatever it is, it’s enough to implicate McNabney on an international level.”

Mustang nodded to Slate. “Get him on the boat. We’ll secure him at the safe house across the river until we can extradite.”

As Tomas was dragged away, he looked back, eyes locking with Savannah’s before sneering, “The daughter performs while the father profits. It’s a hell of a duet.”

Voodoo surged forward, but Mustang blocked him with a hand.

“Not worth it, brother. Let the evidence speak.”

The boats pushed off again, their wakes cutting across the black water.

Savannah exhaled, her voice low. “Do you really think this will bring him down?”

“I think,” Voodoo said, stepping closer, “it’s already begun.”

She leaned into him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shielding her from the night, from the cold truth of what her family had done, and what it might cost to make it right.

CHAPTER 26

Savannah stoodunder the rainfall showerhead, letting the hot water pound against her scalp like a desperate attempt to wash away the evening. The performance at the Guangzhou Opera House had been a disaster, at least to her. Her fingers had stumbled, her tempo had wavered, and the music—the thing that had always been her refuge—felt distant and cold. Mechanical. Like she’d played it from someone else’s hands.

She’d tried to hold it together. Smile for the patrons. Bow to the dignitaries. But inside . . . she was unraveling.

---