Page 25 of Duty Devoted
I led my team to the small office that served as our makeshift command center. The moment the door closed, I activated the signal-jamming device Jace had installed to prevent electronic surveillance. It was probably overkill, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Situation?” Ty asked, noting the tension radiating from every line of my body.
“Silva cartel just executed a patient in front of Dr. Valentino. Diego Silva personally pulled the trigger.” I moved to the window, checking sight lines out of habit. “Mateo Silva invitedLauren to dinner tonight. When she made an excuse about staying with a patient, Diego stepped in and executed the man on the spot. It was a demonstration—a show of power that nobody says no to his family.”
Jace’s fingers stilled on his keyboard. “Jesus Christ.”
“It’s time to go. Giving them a week to wrap things up is no longer an option.”
Jace pulled up multiple screens on his laptop—weather data, communication logs, tactical assessments. “How much time do we have?”
“Too fucking little. Mateo Silva issued a dinner invitation for tonight, eight o’clock. We need to be gone before then.” I checked my watch. “That gives us maybe six hours.”
“That’s probably better anyway. Hurricane Tristan is definitely headed this way now and tracking faster than predicted,” Jace reported, pulling up meteorological data. “Latest NOAA updates show landfall in twenty-four to thirty-six hours. But the outer bands are already affecting flight conditions.”
Shit. I studied the weather patterns, calculating rapidly. “Window for helicopter extraction?”
“Look at you being a true meteorologist,” Ty said with a dry grin.
“Getting narrow,” Jace said. “Winds are picking up, visibility dropping. I’d say we have maybe twelve hours of flyable conditions before the storm makes aerial extraction impossible for multiple days.”
The tactical picture was becoming clear, and none of it was good. We were facing an obsessed cartel leader with nearly unlimited resources, a natural disaster that would eliminate our primary extraction method, and four civilians who had no idea how to operate in a combat environment.
Worse, if we stayed and Mateo or Diego Silva decided our meteorologist cover story didn’t hold up, they wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate what they’d see as foreign intelligence operatives.
Which…was exactly what we were.
“So we need to get everyone out before either the hurricane or cartel decides to make our stay here permanent.”
Jace pulled up satellite imagery of the extraction zone. “Helicopter can be here in four hours. That puts us wheels up before the dinner party deadline.”
I studied the map, running tactical scenarios in my head.
“Clinic has a medical transport van,” Jace said. “Old, but functional. That’s faster than the thirty minutes it takes to walk to the clearing.”
I nodded. “We’ll need to assume the Silva cartel has people watching the clinic. The moment we start moving, we’ll be tracked.”
As Jace worked his communications magic, I outlined our movement plan. “We stage everyone in the clinic until departure. Then single convoy to extraction point so it doesn’t look suspicious to anyone watching. Ty, you’ll be the driver. I’ll ride front for cover, and Jace, you sit in the back with the doctors and monitor comms and pull rear security.”
“Will the doctors be okay?” Ty asked. “Lauren seemed half in shock, and the others didn’t look like they signed up for this level of excitement.”
Lauren had definitely been traumatized, not that anyone could blame her. But she was going to rebound. “Dr. Valentino’s stronger than she looks. The others will follow her lead.”
“And if the Silva cartel shows up before we can extract?”
“Then we do what we’re paid to do,” I said simply. “We get our people out alive, regardless of opposition.”
Jace looked up from his laptop. “Helicopter’s en route. ETA three hours forty-five minutes. Pilot confirms weather conditions are marginal but still flyable.”
“That’s our window,” I said. “I’ll brief the medical team. Let’s move. Leave all our fake meteorological equipment behind.”
Ty let out a dramatic sigh. “But what about the flying ants?The flying ants, Logan.”
A smile pulled at the corner of my mouth. “We’ll have to leave that to the local grandmothers.”
I checked my sidearm one final time, ensuring the magazine was fully loaded. The familiar weight of the weapon was reassuring, but I hoped we wouldn’t need it. Quick and quiet was always preferable to loud and messy.
We rejoined the medical team in the main treatment area. Lauren looked steadier, though the pallor remained. Sophia had positioned herself protectively nearby, while Dr. Martinez and Dr. Williams spoke in hushed, worried tones.
