Page 9 of Rekindled (The MacTavish Heirs #5)

In which we learn just how fast Lucas can move when properly motivated.

Lucas…

Three days later…

“Mate, you’re gonna have to admit mine’s bigger than yours.”

Ryan’s always been a cocky bastard, but this seems the wrong time to start another dick-measuring contest. He was relentless about it in the service, always complaining that he’d be getting more lasses than I did if the girls knew what he “had roaring under the hood.”

The man has the emotional maturity of a chocolate biscuit.

“Are ye really starting that shite right now?” I rub my eyes.

It’s been three days since Cat was taken and just covering Dubois’ known residences has spread MacTavish family members and security all over the globe, and we still haven’t come up with a hint of where he’s taken her.

“Give me something to work with. Please, dinnae make me regret calling ye for help.”

“I’m just saying. When ye hear this, you’re gonna have to print up some kind of plaque I can put on my office door. Something like, ‘Behind this door is Ryan Aitken, Biggus Dickuss.’”

“You’re a fecking moron, and that’s going on the plaque first,” I snarl. “Give me the intel before I come down and rip that substandard dick of yours right off.”

“Someone’s in a mood…” he grumbles. “But aye, I think I’ve found where Dubois is keeping Catriona. Ye know he loves Morocco.”

“Aye, I’ve already sent people to both of his houses there. He hasn’t visited them in months.”

“Because he’s been busy rebuilding his castle in the Atlas Mountains,” Ryan says proudly.

“I checked his financials and he’s been funneling a shite tonne of money to a contractor he’s used on half a dozen projects in that region.

Then, I hacked into the contractor’s accounts and he’s been sending work crews and building materials to a castle located in the Atlas Mountains.

It’s isolated, just a few tiny villages around it.

The closest city is Marrakech. Perfect for a super villain, aye? ”

“You’re brilliant, mate,” I say fervently.

“I know. Also…” he drags the word out with a certain relish, “I then hacked into Dubois’ ph armaceutical vendors’ accounts and they’ve been sending tens of millions of euros worth of equipment and compounds into Morocco.”

“He’s been building a research lab.” I nod. “That’s it, then. He needs something he thinks Cat can give him, and he’s stocked a lab for her.”

“Isn’t his side gig poisons?”

“Aye, he sells them for low-key assassinations, and his clients use them as coercion to get people to sign over their assets and their companies.” I stare out the office window at smoggy Edinburgh. “Upon occasion, their political office.”

I can hear him unwrapping something and taking a big bite, chewing noisily in my ear. “That’s brilliant. He’s a right bastard, but that’s mighty impressive.”

“Ryan, I’ll say it loud and clear. Yours is the biggest. I’ve never seen it. Dinnae want to. But it’s the biggest.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” he says happily. “Sending ye the aerial scans of the castle now. I’ll run some video for the next few hours and start looking for the guard’s patterns and schedule.”

“Can ye dig back into the contractor’s records and see if you can find a blueprint? If he’s doing this much work, ye know he’s got that huge bastard all mapped out.” I’m already sending out texts on my other phone to the Chieftain and the men who are covering Dubois’ multiple homes.

“On it. I know ye can get her back, ye might be the only one who can.” He hesitates. “I just hope this time, ye dinnae let her go, aye?”

“I’m never letting her go,” I promise myself. I promise him and the universe at large. “I’m not walking away.”

“Good lad!” Ryan says happily. “I’m hanging up and getting back to work. Say it for me one more time, aye?”

“For feck’s sake…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yours is the biggest, ye gerbil-headed spunktrumpet.”

“Both of those things are true.” He hangs up laughing and I vow to beat the shite out of him.

Later. There’s work to be done.

That evening…

“We’re narrowing the search, Chieftain.”

I’m back in his office at MacTavish International and the man looks done in, like he hasn’t slept in a week. “Thank the Lord,” he sighs, “because I’ve got exactly shite on my side. No messages, no attempts at contact.”

“So no ransom demand, then?” I ask, watching fury, then grief pass through his eyes.

“No. Ye know that means he plans to keep her. Or kill her.”

“She’s too valuable to kill,” I say, leaning forward, forearms resting on my thighs. “Not much comfort, perhaps, but true.”

We’re sitting in the corner of his office, where there’s a large grouping of sleek chairs and couches around a massive coffee table made of ironwood and granite. The Chieftain has a drink, untouched, set in front of him on the table and I politely rejected his assistant’s offer to bring me one.

“We know how eager he was to meet her after approaching ye so many times for an introduction.” The memory of his expression in that image from the gala, avid, greedy, and borderline obsessed is seared in my brain.

The office door slams open and Mala, the Chieftain’s wife, hurries in. “Did you find her, Lucas?” She looks as exhausted as he does. “Do you really think you have a lead?”

The Chieftain rises, taking her hand and seating her next to him with a kiss and a whisper of comfort. The sight makes my heart twinge.

Cat was always so proud of her parent’s long and happy marriage. Mala is an American who met the Chieftain at the Ares Academy and they’ve been together ever since. Cat vowed she wouldn’t get married until she loved someone in the same way Cormac and Mala do.

“Mrs. MacTavish,” I nod politely, “I have a strong belief that Dubois is creating a lab in the Atlas Mountains castle for Catriona. We canna be sure she’s there yet.

He was in Paris yesterday and his private jet filed flight plans for a trip to Brazil tomorrow.

But that could be a distraction. I have three teams watching the most likely places he’d be. ”

She nods, her eyes bright with tears.

“He wouldn’t hurt her, ma’am. It’s clear Dubois wants something from your daughter and given their mutual interest in poisons, it’s likely a project he’s needing her help with.”

“I’m going with ye,” the Chieftain says. “I know ye have an extraction team already set.”

It’s Mala who shakes her head. “You can’t, sweetheart. You know that French bastard is obsessively following our search for Catriona. If you leave, his spies will report back to him that it’s clear that we think we have found her. He could just move her again.”

“I have to be there,” he insists, “I canna sit by and just hope for the best. For feck’s sake, she’s my daughter!”

“And she’s mine, too.” She puts her hands on his cheeks. “You brought back Lucas here for a reason. Let him do his work.”

I sigh deeply. “I swear to ye on my life that I will bring your daughter home or die trying. My team is ready. We’ll leave in an hour.”

The Chieftain runs his hands over his weary face. “The Dassault Falcon is our fastest jet, and small enough to fly in and out unnoticed. It’ll be fueled up and ready.”

“Grand,” I nod. “Send me the pilot’s contact information, please.”

We shake hands and I’ve got one foot out the door when Mala seizes me in a hug. “Thank you, Lucas,” she whispers. “I disagreed with the decision to make you leave. Thank you for being willing to come back. I know you’ll move heaven and earth to find our girl.”

Awkwardly patting her back, I say, “She’ll be coming home to ye. Keep the Chieftain from losing his mind, aye?”

She gives a wet, wee bit of a laugh. “That’ll be harder than you finding Catriona, but I’m on it.”

On the jet, flying to Morocco…

“Ye know Dubois will have this castle buttoned up tighter than the gold vault at the Bank of England,” Raul says. His dark eyes narrow as he looks over the map. The man is a genius with explosions and diversionary tactics during extraction missions.

“I’m thinking our weak points are here, and here,” I say, pointing at the castle. “We use the drones to drop explosives there and while the main forces race in those two directions, our main force can enter through the service tunnels. They’re not used much but they’re still in operation.”

“Underground. Always, fucking underground.” Morris is a gloomy bastard who served in the Special Reconnaissance Regiment with me. He’s an excellent fighter, but he has such a severe aversion to anything subterranean. He won’t even live in a house that has a basement.

“Sorry, brother. It’s a quick run-through.

” I slap him on the shoulder. There’s ten of us; most are men I served with or MacTavish security.

Most of Cat’s cousins are already spread out over the globe, searching for her, but I feel good about my team.

They’re all hard-faced men who’ve seen the worst of humanity… and killed them.

“We’ve got twelve hours flight-time, drive time, and reconnaissance. We’ll attack two hours after sunset.” I stand up and stretch, hearing my joints crack. “Try to get some sleep, aye?”

The pilot’s just announced that we’re about to land when Morris falls heavily into the seat next to me.

“You’ve been going over these plans for the entire flight, haven’t you?

” He chuckles, “Even though we have them memorized, even though nothing has changed. You’re the same bloody, obsessed bloke you were in the SRR. ”

I dinnae take my gaze away from the plans. “This is the most important mission of my life.”

“We all know that.” He slaps my shoulder. “That’s why we’re here.”

Grinning, I ask, “So that triple bonus from the MacTavish clan wasn’t part of your decision-making process, then?”

Laughing, he admits, “Maybe a tad. But we have your back. It’s not about the money and you know it.”

“I do.” Gripping his arm, I nod. “I know it. Thank ye.”