Page 32 of Call Sign: King
The first words he heard as his connection went live turned his blood cold.
“This is Reaper.” The team leader’s report stopped long enough for him to cough. “Intruder disguised as hotel security gained access to suite with their own key.” Ryder could hear the breathy gurgling through the comms and knew Reaper had been shot.
“He plugged me before I even knew he was a threat. Tank… Patrick… fuck… Tank tackled him, but the bastard got one off at close range.”
Impossible. Their team had been on over fifty missions together. They’d been shot… stabbed… but he’d never lost a man yet.
“MacGyver approaching suite!” he reported, out of breath from running.
“Arrow heading back inside from front entrance. Keeping an eye out down here for bogies.”
“Hawkeye in the elevator. Thirty seconds out. Be careful, MacGyver. Wait for backup.”
“Fuck that,” he answered. “Going in hot.”
Ryder was desperate for news about Khloe but found it impossible to choke out the words. It was stupid, but if he didn’t ask, he could delude himself into believing she was alive and well. As if life had moved into slow motion, her beautiful smiling face flashed before him, taunting him with the knowledge that it was his past that would be responsible for her light going out.
“Khloe…” he finally managed to croak across their network.
A flurry of activity could be heard in the background again as members of the team started arriving at the suite.
“Call 911,” MacGyver yelled.
“Already did,” Axel said. “I’ve got police, fire, and ambulance on the way.”
“Who?” Ryder ground out.
“Reaper lost consciousness, but he’s alive. It doesn’t look as good for Tank.” He said short of breath. “God dammit, I just found Ricky and the Royal Guard — both shot and bleeding out in the bathroom.”
“Where the hell is Khloe?” Ryder screamed, finally finding his voice.
Silence. Dead silence.
“She’s gone,” MacGyver finally answered.
“Dead?” he managed to whisper.
“No… she’s not here.”
It took a second for his heart to start beating again. When it did, his pulse pounded inside his ears.
Some asshole has Khloe. She’s got to be terrified.
“Alright, let’s work the problem,” Axel’s calm voice felt out of place in the surreal moment. How could Wrath be calm when Ryder had just been thrown into his worst nightmare?
He needed to get his head on straight. Khloe needed him to keep it together.
“Her tracking device,” Ryder said switching over to login to the software they used to communicate with their network of satellites.
“I’ve pulled it up,” Torch reported. “It’s still in the hotel.”
“Thank God,” Ryder said, making a snap decision. Slamming his computer shut, he threw it into his briefcase, grabbed his still packed suitcase, and ran toward the door, still connected to the call through his Bluetooth. “I’m heading to my car. I’ll be back there in fifteen minutes. I’ll stay active on this line so keep talking with updates.”
“Roger that,” MacGyver said. Hawkeye is working on putting pressure on some of these wounds and triaging to prioritize who to work on first before EMTs arrive. Hotel security has arrived and is helping secure the scene. I’m heading out now. Michael, you take the south stairs. Arrow, go to the north. I’m going down the north stairs. Let’s see if we can trap the bastard between us.”
“Roger, that,” both Arrow and Michael acknowledged just as Ryder jumped into his rental car.
His hands shook as he struggled to get the key in the ignition. Slamming the SUV into reverse, Ryder tore out of the parking lot, heading back toward the city, grateful the late afternoon rush hour traffic was heaviest in the opposite direction.
