Page 10

Fraiser

T he mountain was quiet tonight.

Too quiet.

I leaned against the porch railing of the command cabin, sipping my coffee and gazing into the dark. Stars twinkled high above the pine trees, and the only sounds were the crickets and the occasional rustle of a wild deer in the brush. I loved the tranquility of my mountain.

But something wasn’t sitting right in my gut. Something wasn’t right.

Maybe it was age, perhaps it was instinct, or maybe it was just being responsible for too many of these damn SEALs who acted like invincible cavemen in camo.

Then my phone buzzed.

Encrypted channel. Nate.

I straightened immediately, heart thudding. Nate didn’t check in often during jobs, but it was always short and sweet when he did. This time, his message was anything but sweet.

NATE (Encrypted):

We are being hunted, someone is after the kids I found another grandchild in a barn she escaped but they have her little sister. They were waiting for us when we landed.

Damn it.

I tapped in a secure trace request and pulled up the coordinates. Tuscany. Middle of damn nowhere.

Just then, another message came through. This one wasn't from Nate.

It was from a local Italian number.

UNKNOWN PERSON:

If you want the kids back alive, stay out of this. Do not contact authorities. Your men won’t make it out next time.

I stared at it for a beat. Then I grabbed my secure phone and hit a speed dial marked only A&R Ricci .

It rang twice before a smooth voice answered.

“Mr. Fraiser. It’s been a long time.”

“Alessandro Ricci,” I said. “I need to speak to your son and daughter-in-law. Now.”

There was a pause.

“They’re not available at the moment. Perhaps you can speak to me instead.”

“No. I’m not playing games. Your grandchildren are being hunted. One’s already missing. If you’ve got anything to do with this—”

“My dear friend, my family would never harm my grandchildren.”

“I hope for your sake that’s true,” I said. “Because if even one hair on their heads is out of place, I will personally come to Italy, and you’ll find out why Delta and SEALs never retire. We evolve.”

I hung up and grabbed my field tablet. I tapped a few keys, encrypting a message to every man on Frasier Mountain.

SEALS—ALL UNITS. CODE ORANGE. NATE AND AXEL ENGAGED. UNKNOWN HOSTILES. CHILDREN INVOLVED. POSSIBLE HUMAN TRAFFICKING ELEMENT. NO MEDIA. NO POLICE. THIS STAYS IN-HOUSE. STAND BY.

I fired off a second message—directly to Chloe and Ethan’s parents.

Your children are in danger. I’ve got men on the ground. Trust me to bring them home. Do not engage anyone or answer strange calls. We’ll handle this.

A third message was already in the works—to Jack and Max.

Time to wake up the wolves.

I was sprinting through the woods, dead set on finding that little girl, when I heard it.

Not a scream.

Not a shout.

But a signal .

A three-beat owl call that wasn’t from any bird.

My blood went hot.

Only one man used that signal.

Fraiser.

I veered toward the sound, instincts on fire. The forest was thick here, the ground wet from yesterday’s rain, and it had the kind of quiet that always came before an ambush.

Then I saw movement up ahead—dark shapes, moving low and fast through the brush. Not enemies. These were ghosts . SEAL ghosts. Faces I knew.

Max. Jack and Tucker.

And dead center, taking point with a silenced rifle slung across his chest, was Fraiser.

The man hadn’t lost an ounce of edge.

He raised two fingers and pointed left. Max broke off instantly, looping around toward a small ravine. That’s when I heard it—muffled cries.

The girl.

Trapped in a hollow, tied to a tree.

A guard stood over her with a radio in one hand and a pistol in the other, scanning the dark like he knew something was coming.

He had no idea how screwed he was.

Jack slid up beside me, whispering, “We got eyes on three more behind the rise. You ready?”

“Always.”

Fraiser gave a sharp hand signal. Go.

And we moved .

It was over in less than a minute.

Three clean takedowns. No noise. No alarms. The kind of coordinated strike that made the devil think twice about showing up.

Max reached the girl first, cutting her bonds with a blade so fast she barely had time to flinch.

“You’re safe now,” he said softly. “We’ve got you.”

She looked up at him, then over at Fraiser stepping out of the shadows like he owned the damn night. Her eyes welled up with tears.

“I—I thought I was going to die.”

“We would never let that happen,” Fraiser said, crouching beside her.

I stood at the edge of the scene, breathing hard, pulse slowing.

We did it.

She was alive.

The SEALs had landed.

Fraiser turned toward me with a wry smile. “Heard you could use a hand.”

“Took you long enough.”

“We had to finish our coffee,” muttered.

Max gave me a pat on the back. “Nice to see you still know how to get into trouble.”

“Better at it than ever,” I said. “But seriously—how the hell did you find us?”

Fraiser pulled a GPS tracker from his vest pocket. “You think I’d let one of my boys leave the country without one of these tucked into his gear?”

I couldn’t help but grin.

“Good to see you,” I said.

“Let’s get the kids out of here,” he said. “Then you can buy me a bottle of Italian wine and explain why a goat named Pancake is on your personnel file.”