Page 30 of Cowboy
"Time we don't have," I growl, running a hand through my hair.
Just then, Tank approaches, his expression grim. "Cowboy, we found something you need to see."
He leads us to a small office at the back of the warehouse. Inside, pinned to a corkboard, is a map of Europe with various locations marked.
"Look at this," Tank says, pointing to a red pin stuck in the south of France. "It's marked 'Next Shipment'. Could be where they're taking Caoimhe."
Hope surges through me. It's not much, but it's a lead. "We need to get there, now," I say, already moving toward the door.
"Hold on," Travis says, grabbing my arm. "We can't just rush in blind. We need a plan."
I spin to face him, anger flaring. "Every second we waste is another second Caoimhe's in danger. We need to move!"
"And we will," Travis assures me, his voice calm but firm. "But we do this smartly. I've got contacts in France. Let me make some calls, see if we can get some local support."
I clench my fists, wanting to argue, but I know he's right. "Fine. But make it quick."
As Travis steps away to make his calls, I turn to Jer. "I need a favor."
"Name it," he says without hesitation.
"I need a plane. Something fast, that can get us to France ASAP."
Jer nods, already pulling out his phone. "Consider it done. I've got a guy who owes me a favor. We can be in the air within the hour."
"Good," I say, feeling a small measure of relief. We're not out of this yet, but at least we're moving in the right direction.
As Jer makes his arrangements, I step outside for a moment, needing some air. I look up at the sky, thinking of Caoimhe. Is she scared? In pain? When I find these fuckers who’ve done this to her, I’m going to kill them slowly.
I close my eyes, pushing down the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm me. "Hold on, Caoimhe," I say, hoping that somehow she’ll hear me. "I'm coming for you. I promise."
10
CAOIMHE
The shipping container doors swing open, flooding the dark space with blinding light. I squint, trying to shield my eyes and Saoirse's face. Rough hands grab us and drag us out into what looks like a private airfield, small, quiet, and only a few planes are here.
"Move," a gruff voice orders, as he shoves us toward a waiting jet.
My heart races as I realize we're about to be taken even further from home. I tighten my grip on Saoirse's hand, determined not to let her go.
As we're herded onto the plane, I catch sight of our captor for the first time, a well-dressed man with cold, calculating eyes. He looks us over like we're cattle at an auction.
"Acceptable," he says with a nod. "Get them cleaned up and ready. We leave in thirty minutes."
I'm pushed into a small bathroom with Saoirse, where we’re told to wash up quickly. As I help the terrified little girl clean her face, my mind races. This may be our last chance to escape before we're taken out of the country.
But how? We're outnumbered and outgunned. And even if we could somehow overpower our captors, where would we go?
As I debate our options, the bathroom door flies open. "Time's up," a guard barks. "Let's go."
He grabs Saoirse roughly by the arm. Without thinking, I lunge at him. "Don't touch her!"
Pain explodes in my head as he backhands me, sending me sprawling. Through the ringing in my ears, I hear Saoirse's frightened cries.
"That was stupid," the guard growls, hauling me to my feet. "Do it again and the kid pays the price. Understand?"
I nod, tasting blood. As he shoves us toward the plane, I catch Saoirse's eye and give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. I have to stay strong, for her sake if nothing else.
