Page 31
Story: Relentless (Option Zero 2)
“Then let me help you. We’ll work on it together. I can—”
Aubrey held up her hand. “Thank you, Uncle Syd, but you’ve done more than enough for me.”
Grabbing her hand, he squeezed gently. “You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”
“I don’t know what Mom and I would have done without you after Dad died. You’ve been my lifesaver more than once. Believe me when I tell you I love you dearly and appreciate you, but I have to do this on my own.”
He sighed deeply, squeezed her hand one more time. “I understand, but you know you can always come to me.”
“Can I steal this handsome man away for a dance?”
They both looked up into the laughing eyes of Becca. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, she was the picture of health and happiness. The azure blue of her dress was the perfect complement to her white-blond hair, creamy skin, and ocean-blue eyes. The sparkle in them said she was having the time of her life.
She and Becca had wanted to be actors since they were both little girls playing dress up together. They used to put on plays f
or their families and friends, and on occasion, their efforts had been filmed. When they were teens, those old recordings had been unearthed to entertain unsuspecting guests at numerous gatherings.
Aubrey was thrilled to see her cousin’s dream come true in such a big way.
Uncle Syd rose slowly to his feet. “Chatting with my lovely niece and dancing with my beautiful daughter are the reasons I came tonight.” Holding out his hand to Becca, he said, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s show them how it’s done.”
They took a step away, and then Syd turned back to Aubrey. “Give it some thought, sweetie.”
Aubrey nodded her agreement, but she already knew the answer. She had taken enough from her uncle. She would meet with her possible new benefactor and hopefully get this project off the ground. If the funding didn’t come through, she would find another way.
Chapter Thirteen
Bogota, Colombia
While Xavier drove, Liam sat in the passenger seat and mentally reviewed the plan for the raid. With the intel Myron had been able to give them, along with the research Serena’s team had dug up on the property, Liam knew they would be successful.
No one ever questioned why he was so focused on human trafficking. They knew the story almost as well as he did. This was his op. He was the one who’d gotten the intel. The one who’d worked the assets. He was the one with the biggest investment in a successful outcome.
A small huff came from the man driving the SUV. Xavier had been his friend long before OZ. They knew everything about each other and had no issues with speaking their minds.
“You got something to say,” Liam said, “say it.”
“You’ve been looking for her for over a decade. You know the chances that she’s still alive are almost nonexistent.”
Yeah, he knew the statistics. The life expectancy of a trafficking victim in captivity was around seven years. It’d been over twelve years since Cat had been sold. The odds of her still being alive weren’t good. But they weren’t impossible, and until he had firm confirmation that she was dead, he would not stop looking.
“You think I should just give up? Stop looking for her?”
“I think you need to get on with your life.”
“And what exactly does that look like? Getting on with one’s life?”
“This is all you do, man. When you’re not working an OZ op, you’re digging up intel on human traffickers and going on raids. You have no personal life.”
Liam gave a huff of laughter. “Hate to bring this up, Xavier, but you’re not exactly a walking, talking example of a balanced life. If I’m not mistaken, the last woman you dated was back when cellphones weighed about ten pounds and mullets were still the rage.”
His friend snorted his amusement. “Not exactly that long, but I get your point. But at least I don’t spend every free moment obsessing about a hopeless cause.”
“When there’s hope, it’s never a hopeless cause. Besides, even if she can’t be saved, others can.”
“I know, brother. And it’s one of the greatest feelings in the world to rescue a trafficked person.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I just worry about you.”
“Worry about your own sorry self. When are you going to tell Jazz what you found out?”
Aubrey held up her hand. “Thank you, Uncle Syd, but you’ve done more than enough for me.”
Grabbing her hand, he squeezed gently. “You’re like a daughter to me, you know that.”
“I don’t know what Mom and I would have done without you after Dad died. You’ve been my lifesaver more than once. Believe me when I tell you I love you dearly and appreciate you, but I have to do this on my own.”
He sighed deeply, squeezed her hand one more time. “I understand, but you know you can always come to me.”
“Can I steal this handsome man away for a dance?”
They both looked up into the laughing eyes of Becca. Dressed in an off-the-shoulder cocktail dress, she was the picture of health and happiness. The azure blue of her dress was the perfect complement to her white-blond hair, creamy skin, and ocean-blue eyes. The sparkle in them said she was having the time of her life.
She and Becca had wanted to be actors since they were both little girls playing dress up together. They used to put on plays f
or their families and friends, and on occasion, their efforts had been filmed. When they were teens, those old recordings had been unearthed to entertain unsuspecting guests at numerous gatherings.
Aubrey was thrilled to see her cousin’s dream come true in such a big way.
Uncle Syd rose slowly to his feet. “Chatting with my lovely niece and dancing with my beautiful daughter are the reasons I came tonight.” Holding out his hand to Becca, he said, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s show them how it’s done.”
They took a step away, and then Syd turned back to Aubrey. “Give it some thought, sweetie.”
Aubrey nodded her agreement, but she already knew the answer. She had taken enough from her uncle. She would meet with her possible new benefactor and hopefully get this project off the ground. If the funding didn’t come through, she would find another way.
Chapter Thirteen
Bogota, Colombia
While Xavier drove, Liam sat in the passenger seat and mentally reviewed the plan for the raid. With the intel Myron had been able to give them, along with the research Serena’s team had dug up on the property, Liam knew they would be successful.
No one ever questioned why he was so focused on human trafficking. They knew the story almost as well as he did. This was his op. He was the one who’d gotten the intel. The one who’d worked the assets. He was the one with the biggest investment in a successful outcome.
A small huff came from the man driving the SUV. Xavier had been his friend long before OZ. They knew everything about each other and had no issues with speaking their minds.
“You got something to say,” Liam said, “say it.”
“You’ve been looking for her for over a decade. You know the chances that she’s still alive are almost nonexistent.”
Yeah, he knew the statistics. The life expectancy of a trafficking victim in captivity was around seven years. It’d been over twelve years since Cat had been sold. The odds of her still being alive weren’t good. But they weren’t impossible, and until he had firm confirmation that she was dead, he would not stop looking.
“You think I should just give up? Stop looking for her?”
“I think you need to get on with your life.”
“And what exactly does that look like? Getting on with one’s life?”
“This is all you do, man. When you’re not working an OZ op, you’re digging up intel on human traffickers and going on raids. You have no personal life.”
Liam gave a huff of laughter. “Hate to bring this up, Xavier, but you’re not exactly a walking, talking example of a balanced life. If I’m not mistaken, the last woman you dated was back when cellphones weighed about ten pounds and mullets were still the rage.”
His friend snorted his amusement. “Not exactly that long, but I get your point. But at least I don’t spend every free moment obsessing about a hopeless cause.”
“When there’s hope, it’s never a hopeless cause. Besides, even if she can’t be saved, others can.”
“I know, brother. And it’s one of the greatest feelings in the world to rescue a trafficked person.” He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. “I just worry about you.”
“Worry about your own sorry self. When are you going to tell Jazz what you found out?”
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