“I can’t believe you lost her,” Trey grumbled from the surveillance van down the street.
Despite the fact their positions spanned the four-block length between Tres Brujas and the safe house, communication earwigs linked Rafe with each of the team. He didn’t need to see his friend’s face to know that a scowl was probably firmly etched in place.
“It isn’t my fault she’s allergic to listening. I planted her ass on the stool and told her to stay the hell put,” Rafe said, halfheartedly defending himself.
“Allergic is one way to describe it. In case you don’t already know, telling Penn to do something only guarantees she’s going to do the exact opposite. Basic Penny 101, brother. If we’re going to be letting her stick around, you best learn that pretty fucking quick.”
“Quick. You hear that, Callahan?” Rafe goaded Logan. “That would be the exact opposite length of time it’s taking you to get a bead on Red. Pick up the pace or I’m making a motion to replace you with another loud-mouthed Marine with bad fashion sense.”
“Hey now.” Logan’s keyboard clacked in the background. “Don’t be hating on my T-shirts, man. And as for finding our little lady…pinpointing her in a sea of white fuzz isn’t exactly child’s play. San Pedro Sula is in serious fucking need of upgrades. You all are sure you don’t see a thing? Maybe the surveillance equipment at HQ is on the fritz and she’s already lounging back with a sangria.”
“Or maybe she’s fucking with us because Ortega was getting too friendly with the locals,” Trey jived.
How the hell could this woman disappear? On his watch?
Rafe’s bird’s-eye view from a rickety fire escape let him overlook the alley across the street. To his left, a stray dog barreled after paper garbage that skidded across the wet ground, and just inside the mouth of the alley, a young couple battled it out with a lot of pissed-off body language.
Rafe half wished the dipshit boyfriend would do something stupid so he could pound out a few aggravations, because while on an op, there was no other pleasurable way to relieve stress. It’s not like they could run down the street and hit the weight machine at the local gym, and sex was fucking out of the running. Mixing business with pleasure ensured a mission went straight to hell. Fast.
A three-month station. Five men. And a shit ton of testosterone. Rafe and the team probably had enough morning driftwood on any given morning to build themselves a fucking yacht.
About to suggest resetting shop closer to the safe house, Rafe saw the lowlife across the street give his girlfriend a hard shove. The echoing crack of her head hitting brick made him wince. Getting involved in San Pedro Sula’s daily grind wasn’t the reason Alpha Security was there, but sometimes interventions couldn’t be helped—like dealing with run-of-the-mill assholes.
Rafe shifted to make his move when the familiar click-clack of heels echoed on the deserted street. His body stiffened as Penny, still dressed head to toe in the painted-on leather number, rounded the corner. Her gait slowed as she observed the quarreling couple.
“Keep it moving, sweetheart,” Rafe murmured under his breath, wishing he could keep her walking by will alone. Prepped to move in case his will wasn’t enough, he announced into the mic, “I got her, but she’s about to poke her nose where it doesn’t belong. Corner of Del Sol and Ramones.”
Penny changed directions, headed straight toward the abusive bastard.
“Fuck! She’s on the move. We gotta get down there. Now.”
Rafe half skidded, half flew down the fire escape. “I’m going to have to go in hot. ETAs?”
“Logan and I are nowhere close.” A slam of a car door announced Trey had left the surveillance van. “Stone? Chase?”
“I’m on the move, but there’s no way I’m making it first,” Stone announced.
“Me neither.” Chase could be heard cursing out a taxi that decided to play chicken with him as he crossed the street. “Rafe?”
“Almost there.” Rafe’s feet barely touched the ground with his mad dash. His eyes locked on the petite form more than twenty-five yards away, and he narrowed both his vision and his thoughts to one thing.
Getting to Penny.
*
The second Penny turned the corner, the hair on her arms stood on end. She saw the man first. He was pressed and primped, an aura of self-importance radiating off his immaculately trimmed hair and high-end shoes. His clothes hugged a tall, rangy build too perfectly for them to be anything but tailor-made, and on his wrist, a gold watch glittered beneath the barely working lamppost.
For this side of the city, his dress alone rose her internal alert system…and then his body shifted and she caught a glimpse of the young woman.