Special Forces Father - By Mallory Kane Page 0,58
and Max and get the hell out of there, leaving the kidnappers for Reilly to handle.
But his training kept him in check. As a Special Forces operative, he understood the need for coordination of effort. The kidnapper was a former cop. He would almost certainly have a weapon. Therefore Travis’s team had to consider him armed and dangerous. Since Kate had heard a woman’s voice over the phone, the man had a partner who was probably also his girlfriend. But Travis knew that mistakes could cost lives, and he was not about to risk Kate’s or his son’s lives because he was impatient.
He scanned the area while he waited, making sure he was aware of everything around him. The black blobs that appeared almost shapeless in the dark were mobile homes or RVs. His gaze automatically traced the best path around each of the sad little metal houses on wheels. He didn’t know yet which direction he’d take through the cluster of trailers to get to the one holding his family, but he would be ready.
In the distance, he heard the flap-flap of helicopter rotors. His heart leaped into his throat. He swallowed against the lump, then took a huge breath. He dug deep inside himself and found the calm focus that had qualified him to be a member of the elite few men who had earned their position in the army’s Special Forces.
The helicopter flew over the trailer park slowly and casually, as if it were piloted by a bored traffic cop. Travis touched his ear, which held the tiny bud through which he’d receive the signal to go from Reilly. Within seconds, Reilly’s voice, steady and sure, sounded in Travis’s ear.
“Vehicle sighted. It’s a go. I repeat. It’s a go. Golf. Oscar. Leave the channel open. Over.”
“Confirmed. On the move. Out,” Travis responded.
“Careful, Trav. Out.”
Travis moved between the trailers, watching the screen on his phone as the GPS coordinates moved closer and closer to Dusty’s mark. He spotted the dark green sedan. It was parked at the end of a dirt path, beside a small trailer that had been pulled so far toward the edge of the parking area that its far end was obscured by woods. When Travis saw that, his pulse gave a small leap. The woods would serve as excellent cover while he ran reconnaissance to map the interior of the trailer and determine where each of the occupants was located.
Behind him, he heard a door open. Instantaneously and without conscious thought, he rolled onto the ground under a shrub. He lay there, still as a rock, as the man who’d opened the door walked outside in his undershirt, boxers and flip-flops. He stretched and yawned, then lit a cigarette and leaned against the side of the trailer, absently scratching himself as he smoked. He finished the cigarette, tossed it on the ground and crushed it with the sole of one flip-flop. Then he yawned again and went back inside.
Travis turned over onto his stomach and crawled silently through the underbrush until he was far enough back in the woods to stand without being spotted. Then he made his careful, quiet way to the trailer. He’d spent some time with Dusty studying the layout of mobile homes of a similar size to this one. From the dimensions and the locations of the small windows, it appeared that the unit had two bedrooms and one bathroom. He circled the unit, noting the position of the front door and comparing it with the layout he’d seen. He made a strategical guess that the second bedroom was the one surrounded by overgrown shrubs and trees. He pulled out a small, powerful pair of binoculars and peered in the largest window. There he saw a man and a woman sitting at a minuscule built-in table. The kidnapper and his partner. He scanned the length of the trailer, but saw no sign of Max or Kate.
Silently, he circled around behind the vehicle and made his way through the vegetation, searching for the window of the room that held his son and the woman he loved.
* * *
KATE LAY ON the makeshift bed and held her sleeping child in her arms. During the first part of the night, she’d slept hard—too hard, because of the drug Bent had given her. But a while ago, she didn’t know how long, she’d woken up and felt the soft pressure of her little boy’s head on her shoulder and heard his sweet, quiet breaths.