Page 15 of Danger Close
She looked at him when he stood back up, like she was studying something behind his face—those big dark eyes soft and knowing in a way a not-quite-two-year-old shouldn’t have known how to be.
Then, she held out her arms.Ricky blinked, stunned, before reaching out and lifting her gently from Blake to cradle her in his own arms.It felt comforting just having her in his arms.
She placed her tiny hands on his cheeks, palms warm against his stubble.
“Missed you,” she said solemnly.
His chest fractured.Just a hairline crack—but it went deep.
Then her brow furrowed.“Stay home.”
His breath caught.He pressed a kiss to her temple, eyes burning.
“I’ll try, pumpkin,” he whispered.“I promise I’ll try.”
He passed her back to Blake before she could see the tears welling, nodded once, then turned toward the stairs, going up a floor to the conference room.
The door clicked shut behind him, and he became a soldier again.
The second-floor conference room was already active.Screens glowed, maps layered the far wall, gear bags stacked under the table.The ficus in the corner looked slightly more alive than the last time he saw it.
Ricky didn’t sit.He dropped his bag against the wall and stood with his arms crossed.
Bateman dropped a hard copy of the message onto the table and looked at him like it was time to do more than just show up.
Bateman pointed at the sheet of paper.“This is what Ezra sent you.”
Ricky stepped forward, scanning Ezra’s message like it might flicker into clarity if he stared long enough.“Yeah, but I don’t know the full story,” he said finally.“Ezra didn’t give me one.Just the message—and the list.”
Hogan leaned forward, frowning.“What kind of list?”
“Six hundred and twenty-seven names.Girls.All trafficked through cartel-backed orphanages.Legit-looking organizations—charity fronts.The file included encrypted birth records, ID codes, movement logs.Ezra flagged one,” Ricky said.“Her file had a redacted genetic profile ...but he cracked it.The DNA string matched Van.”
Silence dropped like a hammer.
“Van?”Marsh echoed.“Our Van?”
Ricky nodded once.
“I didn’t even know he was—” Dale started, then stopped.“Shit, I didn’t even know he was straight.”
“He was bi,” Bateman said
Ricky’s throat worked.“Looks like it.A daughter.Five years old.Ezra didn’t know either.He must’ve been following something Van left behind.A trail, a code—hell, maybe just instinct.But he found that list.And he vanished right after.”
Dale exhaled, dragging a hand over his face.“So, we don’t know where he was heading?”
“No,” Ricky admitted.
Marsh looked up from where he was tapping away at his laptop.“But the message came from an encrypted server with Bratya fingerprints all over it.One of their humanitarian fronts.Could’ve been anywhere in the Balkans, but it pinged from somewhere near the Albanian border.”
“That’s thin,” Hogan muttered.
“It’s enough,” Ricky snapped.“Ezra’s out there.Hurt.Maybe worse.I’m not letting that message be his last words.”
“And we don’t exactly have the best reputation in Albania,” Dale said with a grimace.“The Minister of Defense and his poker buddy Ganglord, Shkurti, don’t exactly have us on their Christmas card list.”
Bateman held up a hand, calming the edges.“We need more than theories.And we might have it.”
