A few minutes later she knew exactly what that meant. Her stomach was twirling, threatening to revolt, as Tory continued to stare her down, as a man tied the last loop through the vest connected to her ensemble.
Full black.
Black pants. Black shirt. Black vest. And lastly her hair tied up and a plastic black mask covering her face.
“Are you sure you can handle this?” Tory whispered to her, coming up and speaking where no one else could hear him.
“No,” she whispered shakily, “but I have no choice. I will not sit here and wait for him. He saved me once. And now it’s my turn to save him.”
Tory smiled at her, his finger coming up to bump her chin. “My little sister, so brave.” He leaned over picking up a gun from the chair next to her, and handed it to her.
“Let’s go get your man.”
I’m coming, Mark.
***
They were walking down the porch stairs, when Tory’s phone rang and everyone stilled.
“Yes?”
“What?” Tory’s eyes came to her, narrowing and her own eyes widened.
“It’s for you,” he said, eyeing her while holding his cell out to her.
“Hello,” she said cautiously. Nobody should be calling her here. Nobody even knew where she was.
“Hey, girl.” Branson’s words rang out over the line, and she almost collapsed in relief.
“Branson,” she said, and nodded to Tory at his look.
“Got some information on our boy, put me on speaker phone will ya.”
She smiled and did as he asked.
“Okay Branson.”
“Okay I know y’all are headed out, but you need to know a few key things. The men that took our boy …” She saw Ben mouth the words ‘our boy’ to one of the other men and she smiled. Branson certainly had a way with words.
“They’re part of the cartel. You understand Winter?” Branson’s words dropped, letting her know exactly what he meant, and she understood immediately.
“Yes, I got it, Branson,” she stated, the cold seeping in at the knowledge that this was retaliation for her.
For Mark killing Ernesto.
Branson rattled off an address and Tory gestured to someone that started typing away on their phone. Tory glanced at her, and she saw the questions in his gaze.
Questions that she didn’t want to answer just then.
Later.
Later she would break down. But right now wasn’t the time. Mark needed her. She took a breath and pushed it aside.
“Thank you Branson.”
“Your welcome doll. Get our boy.” Then the line went dead.
“Got the location, Pres. It’s closer than the coordinates that we had. Damn spot on,” the man muttered, and she smiled, staring at the phone.
