P.J. frowned. “Not that I saw. He has heavy firepower, but all I laid eyes on were the rifles, and he has plenty of those. We’d be dumbasses not to plan for the worst, though.”
“Where are we going to get our hands on a chopper big enough to carry all of us and offer enough protection that we don’t get our asses shot off when we’re lifting off and getting the f**k out of there?” Baker asked.
Donovan grimaced. “Damn good question.”
“Fuck it all,” Steele swore. “This is not the way I wanted this to go down.”
“I know we all want to go in and get her out, but we have to be smart about this,” Donovan said. “We need to call in another team, have Rio get us a chopper. He has the connections and could get it done a hell of a lot faster than us trying to get a contact locally. He could be here in a few hours if we call him up now. For that matter, Nathan and Joe and their team could be here not long after that. If we wait twenty-four hours before we go in, we’ll have enough manpower and planning time to ensure this goes smoothly without getting us or Maren killed in the process.”
“And what is Maren enduring in the meantime?” Steele said in a deadly soft voice.
P.J. flinched and nodded her agreement.
Donovan ran a hand through his hair and exhaled in a deep rush. “We don’t have another option. I hate the idea of not knowing what that son of a bitch is subjecting Maren to, but the very last thing we need is to go in and get our asses handed to us, get ourselves and Maren killed. If I had to choose between her staying where she is another day and suffering that bastard’s attention or going in prematurely and getting her and us killed, I think you know what my choice is.”
Steele turned away and clenched his fingers into fists as helpless rage boiled through his veins. Fuck it all but they were in an impossible situation. It brought to mind too readily the time when P.J. had been in the hands of a goddamn monster and the entire team had been forced to listen to her being brutalized and were helpless to stop it. He never wanted to feel that again. Ever.
And now they faced a very similar situation. In a lot of ways it was worse because they didn’t know what kind of situation Maren was in. They were flying blind and could only hope like hell that she wasn’t being subjected to any kind of abuse.
It made him crazy to imagine what she could be going through. To imagine that bastard’s hands on her. Hurting her. Her being helpless and without hope. He’d seen the very worst people had to offer. He’d taken down a lot of ass**les in his time. But he’d never felt this kind of blinding fury. It rattled him. Made him second-guess every decision he was making. And Steele was nothing if not decisive. He’d always been able to calculate each situation with complete cool and calm.
All he could see was Maren’s sweet, smiling face, and he knew he wouldn’t rest until he had her back. Safe. Where she belonged.
“What’s it going to be, Steele?” Donovan asked quietly. “It’s your call. But whatever we do, we need to move fast. There’s a hell of lot to do in two days’ time.”
Steele turned back around, his jaw still locked tight in frustration. He blew out a deep breath. No, he didn’t want to wait another f**king day to go in and get Maren the hell out of there. But he had to play this smart. They needed more firepower. They were up against a hell of a lot for one team—no matter how good they were—to handle. And as badly as he wanted to get Maren to safety, he wasn’t going to risk her life to achieve that objective.
“Call Sam. Get the other team on the way. Then we need to contact Rio and see what he can help us with.” He glanced up at Dolphin. “Get me a layout of the compound. We have zero room for errors. This has to be mapped out to the nth degree.”
“I’ll put in a call to Resnick,” Donovan said.
The entire group went silent. Steele swung his gaze to Donovan, his eyes narrowing.
“Why the hell would you call Resnick?” Steele demanded.
“A guy like Mendoza is in some deep shit. No way he’s clean. With the kind of manpower he’s fronting? Who the hell has a f**king army guarding his residence complete with watchtowers and manned gates? Only someone with enemies and a reason to fear attack has that kind of setup.”
“So where does Resnick come into the picture? I still don’t like it. Every time Resnick pokes his nose in, it gets too f**king complicated. The last thing I want is Uncle Sam breathing down our necks when we’re trying to get Maren away from some batshit-crazy kidnapper.”
“Hooyah,” Cole muttered.
“Hell yeah, hooyah,” Dolphin chimed in.
“That even gets a hooyah from me,” P.J. said.
Baker and Resnick both voiced their agreements.
Donovan held up his hands, much like Sam always did when things got out of hand and he wanted calm.
“Before this dissolves into outright mutiny, here’s the thing. It’s possible Resnick has intel on Mendoza that can help us. If he can lend us resources? Even better. It would certainly help us out if we had Uncle Sam in our pockets. Maren is too important for us not to pull out all the stops and avail ourselves of every advantage we can.”
The group went silent. Donovan had scored a huge point and he knew it. When he put it like that, they could hardly argue over whether to consult with Resnick. If it gave them the upper hand with Mendoza, they’d be fools not to utilize him.
“Okay, you call Resnick,” Steele conceded. “I’ll get on the horn with Rio first and get him headed this way and tell him we need a chopper. If he has any team members he can reach and get here in time, I’ll pull them along with the other team. Cole, while Donovan and I are making those calls, I need you to contact Sam. Brief him on the situation and tell him we need the other team as fast as they can haul ass down here.”