Page 23 of Cowboy
Travis looks up from his laptop, his eyes tired. "We're doing everything we can, Ciarán. I've got every contact I have working on this. But whoever took Caoimhe, they're professionals. They've covered their tracks well."
I slam my fist against the wall, the pain barely registering through my worry. "Fuck!" I yell. "We can't just sit here doing nothing while she's out there, God knows where, with God knows who!"
"I know, I know," Travis says, his voice softer now. "But we can't rush into this blindly. We need to be smart about this, or we could end up putting Caoimhe in even more danger."
Just then, Travis' phone buzzes. He snatches it up, his eyes widening as he reads the message. "It's from an unknown number," he says, his voice tense. "They say they have information about Caoimhe."
My heart races as I move to read over his shoulder. The message is brief.
UNKNOWN: If you want to see the girl alive, come to the abandoned warehouse on Dock Road. Come alone. You have one hour.
Travis and I exchange a look. It could be a trap, but it's the only lead we've had in hours.
"I'm going," I say firmly.
Travis shakes his head. "It's too dangerous. They said to come alone. I should go."
"No," I argue. "Caoimhe trusts me. If there's any chance of getting her out safely, it has to be me."
After a moment of hesitation, Travis nods. "Alright. But you're not going in completely alone. I'll have a team on standby nearby, ready to move in if things go south."
I nod, already moving to gear up. As I check my weapon and slip on my kevlar vest, I can't help but think of Caoimhe. The fear she must be feeling, the danger she's in. I silently vow to bring her home safely, no matter what it takes.
"Be careful," Travis says as I head for the door. "And Ciarán? Whatever happens in there... don't lose your head. Caoimhe needs you to think clearly."
I nod grimly then step out of the apartment and into the cool night, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination. Hold on, Caoimhe, I think. I'm coming for you.
As I approach the abandoned warehouse, my senses are on high alert. The area is eerily quiet, the only sound the distant lapping of waves against the docks. I check my watch, I'm ten minutes early.
I scan the surroundings, looking for any sign of a trap or ambush. Nothing seems out of place, but that doesn't mean it's safe. I touch the comm device in my ear, knowing Travis and his team are listening in.
"I'm going in," I murmur, barely moving my lips.
"Copy that," Travis' voice crackles in my ear. "We've got eyes on the building. Be careful in there."
I take a deep breath and push open the rusty door. The interior of the warehouse is dark, with only slivers of moonlight filtering through broken windows. The air is thick with the smell of mold and decay.
"Hello?" I call out, my voice echoing in the empty space. "I'm here. Where's Caoimhe?"
For a moment, there's only silence. Then, a voice speaks from the shadows.
"Ciarán O'Reilly. Or should I say, Cowboy? You're right on time."
I spin toward the voice, my hand instinctively moving to my weapon. "Who are you? Where's Caoimhe?"
A figure steps into a dim light. It's a man, tall and lean, with close-cropped gray hair. His face is lined and weathered, but his eyes are sharp and alert.
"Your friend is safe. For now," he says, his voice calm and measured. "Whether she stays that way depends on you."
I clench my fists, fighting the urge to lunge at him. "What do you want?"
The man smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Information. I understand Caoimhe brought you some very interesting evidence. I want it."
My mind races. He must be talking about the USB drive Caoimhe gave me. "I don't have it with me," I say carefully.
"Of course you don't," the man replies. "But you know where it is. And you're going to get it for me."
I shake my head. "Not until I see Caoimhe. How do I know she's even alive?"
