I read all the bio Interpol sent. Penelope Chelton, thirty-five. Originally from England, she worked at the embassy in Panama City when she disappeared.
Hmm. So she isn't a model.
No one has seen her in eighteen months. Her boss, William Davies, reported her missing.
A year and a half is a long time. Why haven't they found her sooner if she worked for the English government?
Her family is listed back in England. She has a seventy-year-old mother and two older sisters.
I wonder what she's like. Probably smart if she works for the embassy. She looks like she could sit next to the queen and have tea with her.
I bet I could make her orgasm like a porn star and shatter every proper trait she has while in my bed.
Jesus. I need to get my head out of my ass. She's a target.
I re-read the info, as if more data on her would magically appear, but of course, it doesn't. Normally, I wouldn't be looking for more, but there's something about this woman that makes me want to know every little detail about her.
Don't be unprofessional. I'm here to do my job. This isn't a date. Other information doesn't matter.
Rescue her, deliver her to wherever Interpol wants you to take her, and hightail it out of here. I'll forget about her once I get to Summerfest.
No I won't.
Every year, if Interpol doesn't need me, I go to the music festival. It's been a few years since I was able to attend, and as long as there isn't some chaotic world event, Interpol cleared me for time off, which is a hard thing to make happen in my line of work.
When people need to be rescued, you can't say, "Oh, sorry, I have something else to do today." And teams stick together. It's a brotherhood, and the closer you are, the more you can anticipate the other's moves. And I wouldn't want to do this work with any other men besides the ones I work with.
But Interpol has members from other teams, and Andre approved a few to step in for me that week should something come up. So unless the world implodes, I should get to go this year.
Dirk comes over and pulls me out of my thoughts. "Who do you have?"
I hand him my folder and grab his to look at Zoe's details. "How crazy is this?"
"Yep." He looks at mine then raises his eyebrows.
"What?"
"Are you going to be able to control yourself?"
"What are you talking about?"
"She's five-ten and a redhead with freckles."
"So?" I grab the folder out of his hand. "Don't lose your professionalism just because your dream woman is sitting in the jungle several miles from here."
Dirk's face hardens. "Why do you think Santiago, the Colombian drug lord, has them?"
"No idea—"
The whirring of a helicopter interrupts me, and when it hits the ground, Malin and Hunter jump out. As soon as their feet touch the dirt, it's back in the air.
Within the hour, Andre, then Ryker arrive. Our teams strategize, and it's soon dark out.
Our night surveillance shows the positions of all of Santiago's men. Due to the layout of the camp, the thugs surrounding Santiago, and where the pit the women being held captive is located, Andre instructs, "Unless I signal, no one shoots Santiago or these men here." He makes a circle where Santiago is located. "Get in, get your target, get out."
Bastard kidnaps women, throws them in a dirt pit, and gets to live.
I take a deep breath, trying to contain the pissed-off rage swirling in my veins.