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Like he’d told Mustang. They’d planned this kidnapping carefully.

Despair threatened to overwhelm Casper.

“We aren’t giving up,” Pyro said over the headset as he put his hand on Casper’s shoulder. “But we need to get Pid and Mustang to the ship so they can get medical attention. I’ve stabilized Pid, but he needs a doctor.”

His copilot was right, but that didn’t mean everything within Casper wasn’t rebelling. He couldn’t leave Laryn. She was out there somewhere. Counting on him to ride in on a white horse and save her. He wanted to do that for her, just as she’d done that for him when he’d been at his most vulnerable.

But he could hear her in the back of his head, telling him to take care of the SEALs first. That she’d hold on until he could find her. That she’d be all right. That she was tougher than everyone thought, because her dad had taught her how to make the best of a bad situation.

Closing his eyes, Casper nodded.

He felt the chopper immediately lift off the ground.

They banked around, and the sound of a missile being fired was loud in the small space, making the entire chopper vibrate.

It felt different being in the back while the firepower was used, and Casper refused to watch the link he had with Laryn go up in smoke, literally.

Blowing up the chopper that she’d put so much blood, sweat, and tears into … and time and love…felt awful.

Now that he knew Laryn better, he understood her love language was making sure he was as safe as possible while he was flying.

She’d always done just that, the entire time she’d been working with him.

She’d made sure everything on his chopper was in the best shape it could be… so he’d come back after every mission.

And he had.

But she hadn’t. When push came to shove, he hadn’t done his part in keeping her safe.

It was a mistake he’d rectify or die trying.

And it might come to that. It wasn’t as if the Turkish government was going to admit one of their own had a hand in the elaborate scheme to kidnap one of the best and brightest minds the US military had working for them.

No, they were going to resist any attempts to get Laryn back.

Well, fuck them.

Casper concentrated on sending Laryn all the mental strength he could muster.

He had to believe she was all right. That the crazy lengths Osman had gone to just to get his hands on her meant he wanted her healthy and uninjured as she was transported to wherever the Turkish military had stashed their newly acquired MH-60s.

All he had to do was find where that was, get the government and his superiors to approve a mission to cross international boundaries, and get her back.

Hopefully with as little bloodshed as possible .

Casper knew the challenge in front of him was daunting, but he wasn’t a Night Stalker for nothing. He knew people, had some clout. And Laryn wasn’t a normal mechanic. The knowledge she had about their choppers would surely mean her government would fight to get her back.

If they wouldn’t, he would. And his fellow pilots would join him. Laryn would come home. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Laryn blinked, but it didn’t do any good. The material placed over her head didn’t let one speck of light in. She had no idea how long she’d been blinded, with her arms secured behind her back. Days?

She was more than sick of the damn hood. Of being treated as if she were a piece of baggage. She’d been hauled around and forced into one vehicle after another. Every time she tried to speak, she was told to shut up.

At first, she’d hoped to escape at the first chance she got, but she’d never had the slightest opportunity.

The truck she’d been shoved into in the middle of the mountains had bounced and bumped over what had to be the worst road on the planet.

After what she guessed was just fifteen or twenty minutes, it stopped for what seemed like hours.

The air had been cooler, and she could only assume the truck had been driven into a cave or something to hide from anyone looking for her from the air.

She could’ve sworn she heard a helicopter, but the sound was slight and far off, and any hopes she had of a fast rescue were dashed.

After that, she was moved into a different vehicle. Then another. And another. She estimated she’d been in at least thirty different vehicles at this point.

There was no way, even if Tate had been able to follow the truck she’d originally been taken in, he’d still be on her trail.

Not with how many times she’d been moved from car to truck to car.

She had no idea where she was now, partly because of the hood over her head, but also because they’d been driving for so long.

She slept fitfully, unaware how much time had passed each time she woke.

There were different voices around her each time she was shoved into another vehicle.

Laryn wondered if the men tasked with making sure she didn’t run, ensuring she ate stale bread every now and then, drank the water they poured down her throat because they didn’t ever release her hands from their bindings, knew or cared who they were transporting, or why.

At first, she was afraid she’d be assaulted.

She was the only woman with a group of men, and she’d stayed on high alert, determined to make it as difficult as possible for anyone to hurt her.

But no one touched her except to get her from one car to another, or to assist her in eating and drinking.

She didn’t want to think about when she’d had to use the bathroom.

It was humiliating, since they’d refused to untie her hands.

They’d had to unzip her coveralls, pull her panties down, hold her arms so she didn’t fall, then pull her underwear and clothes back up. All while she wore a hood.

With no idea how many people were looking at her, this was the first time in her life she hated the coveralls she wore on a daily basis. If she had on regular pants and a T-shirt, she at least wouldn’t feel quite so exposed every time she had to pee.

Things felt different today, however. She could hear much more noise from outside the car.

Even with the hood on, and lying on the floor of the vehicle—she thought it was a van of some sort, because the door slid shut, rather than slammed closed—the sound of horns blaring and other road noise was loud.

Being in a city was good, she hoped. It meant if and when she was able to escape, she’d hopefully be able to blend in and disappear. In the middle of the mountains, with nothing around, it would be impossible to hide from her kidnappers. But in a city? Laryn felt as if she had a fighting chance .

Throughout her ordeal, no one talked to her beyond telling her to keep her mouth shut. No one told her who had kidnapped her or why. But she had a pretty good idea.

Altan Osman.

No one else would go to the lengths he had in order to get her to work for him.

Apparently, he didn’t take rejection well.

The good news for her was that he needed her healthy in order to do her job.

The bad news? If he wasn’t pleased with anything she did, he could easily kill her and get rid of her body and no one would know what had happened or where she’d gone.

She’d be just another case of a person disappearing without a trace.

Laryn shuddered, forcing herself to take a deep breath. The hood smelled disgusting, and she immediately regretted her actions.

She simply had to figure out a way to stay alive long enough for Tate to find her.

Stay alive and not give Altan Osman any of the top-secret information she was privy to.

How the Night Stalkers operated. What technology the choppers contained.

How the US military operated. She had a lot of information other countries would find extremely useful.

The trick would be to make it seem as if she was scared shitless and giving up all the intel she had, while actually only giving away things that weren’t top secret or particularly vital.

How she’d do that, she had no idea. She was going to have to fly by the seat of her pants.

How long it would take for someone to come for her, Laryn wasn’t sure.

But she had no doubt that Tate would do everything in his power to do so himself.

To be involved in whatever plan his higher-ups came up with.

He wouldn’t leave her rescue to the government.

She knew that as well as she knew her name.

But of course, that worried her too, because the last thing she wanted was for Tate to be in danger or get hurt.

The van slowed, and Laryn prayed she wasn’t about to be shuttled to another damn vehicle.

She was exhausted, sore from being restrained, and tired of being treated like a piece of lumber.

When she came face-to-face with Altan, she’d make sure he knew how pissed off she was about this entire situation.

The noises from outside the van decreased as they drove slowly. Not for the first time, Laryn wished she could see. Any information she could get about her surroundings would be helpful when the time came to escape.

She heard two men talking, but didn’t understand a word they were saying. Then they were creeping forward once more and, finally, the van stopped.

Holding her breath, praying she was at her final destination, Laryn jumped when the door next to her slid open.

Her arm was grasped in a tight hold, making her cry out involuntarily in pain.

Her upper arm had to be covered in bruises, because she’d been grabbed in the same place so many times while being dragged from one car to another.