Logan

by Theodora Lane

  God, what would he tell Shae if the men didn’t agree to this?

  He’d just go it alone.

  No matter what, he’d come through for Shae and for Billy.

  And her father.

  Chapter Four

  Around eleven, Logan followed Max into the work area. They passed the small kitchen and long table and benches where they cooked lunch and ate.

  Next to it rose the metal stairs to Max’s apartment.

  In the open workshop, Rowdy Richards, his welder’s mask painted with yellow and red flames, sparks flying, worked on their latest project—retrofitting a Hummer with bulletproof armor for this week’s hottest rapper out in Hollywood with more money than sense.

  “Where’s Travis?” Max shouted.

  Rowdy turned off the torch and flipped up his mask. “What?”

  “Travis? Where is he?”

  “Went into Houston to pick up the new speakers for this bad boy.” He caressed the driver’s side door of the black Hummer. “Should be back in an hour.”

  “When he gets back, we need to have a meeting. Something’s come up.” He glanced at Logan.

  “Got it.” Rowdy nodded at Logan. “Hey.” He returned to Max. “Business?”

  “Sort of. I’ll let the others know. Soon as he gets here, you get the guys rounded up and come to the office.”

  “Roger.” Rowdy flipped his mask back down, sparked up the torch, and got back to work.

  Max continued toward the rear of the hut as Logan followed. A row of vehicles, in all sorts of de-construction, lined one side of the building. At the far end stood a large room, its door half opened. Max rapped on it, waited a moment, and then pushed in. No sudden surprises here.

  “Jake?”

  “Yeah, Cap.” Jake Wilson, their arms and munitions expert, stood behind a long table filled with assorted weapons, some whole and others broken apart. He held what looked like a small rocket grenade in his hand.

  “That live?” Max cocked his eyebrows up. Logan froze in the door. Best not to go all the way in. Live explosives made him nervous.

  “Nah.” He tossed it on the table. Logan jumped back, and Jake just laughed, the bastard. Max hadn’t flinched.

  “Meeting when Travis gets here. In the office.”

  Jake saluted. “Got it. Logan, you get us into trouble again?”

  “Something like that.” Logan grinned.

  “Hope that rich daddy of yours left you enough money to bail us out.” Jake winked.

  Logan opened his mouth to shoot a snappy retort, but he closed it. Jake was just yanking his chain, and to reply would play into it.

  Max picked up the grenade, studied it for a minute, and then put it back down. “What’s this for?”

  “Personal.” Jake shrugged. “Thought I might need something with a bit more power.”

  “All you need’s a single bullet, Jake.” Max stared into Jake’s gaze until the man lowered his and shuffled his feet.

  “Not if you want to make a big splash,” Jake muttered, then turned and walked to his desk and sat.

  Max looked at Logan and frowned. “Jake, just don’t blow the garage to hell and back, okay? I live here, and the rest of us need the work.”

  Jake laughed. “Cap, you know I’m cool.” He played with the grenade, rolling it back and forth on the table.

  Max nodded. “I know.”

  Logan wasn’t so sure. He knew Jake had bad dreams too. And slept with a gun under his pillow. No one sneaked up on Jake. It wasn’t healthy.

  Max backed out and faced Logan. “I’ll call Gunnar from the office. He hasn’t made it in yet.”

  “Right.” He followed Max back to the main office. Logan took his seat at his desk, Max at his, and they both stared at Gunnar’s empty seat.

  “Where do you think he’s at?” Logan chewed on a pencil.

  Max shrugged. “Could be anywhere. Probably trying to extract himself from some woman’s bed.” He snorted. “Never met a guy who got so much action in my life.”

  Logan laughed. “He has a way with words, no doubt.”

  That was an understatement. Gunnar Walker’s good Nordic looks and silver tongue made him one smooth operator. He could con a barfly out of her panties and convince her to bring a friend, or talk a distributor into a deep discount. Either way, his skills were impressive.

  Max and Logan got busy working. Logan finished processing bills, sending out invoices, and balancing accounts. Max emailed, answering questions from new clients and dealing with old ones.

  The door opened. Rowdy entered, his limp not as noticeable as usual, and Travis followed.

  “Cap, you wanted to see us?” Rowdy fell into a chair in front of Max’s desk and stuck out his bad leg. Travis sat behind his desk.

  “This meeting is for everyone.” Max picked up the office phone and punched in a number. “Jake? Come on up front.” He hung up. “Anyone seen or heard from Gunnar?”

  “He’s on his way in.” Travis held up his smart phone. “Got his text. He’s coming from Austin.”

  “Austin?” Max grumbled.

  Jake came in. “Austin who?” He flung himself into a chair next to Travis’s desk.

  “Not who. Where.” Rowdy snickered. “I bet it’s a woman.”

  “Naw. Barbeque,” Travis tossed out. “Or a woman and barbeque.”

  Max shook his head. “How far out is he?”

  “Another fifteen minutes.”

  “So what’s this about?” Travis put his boots up on the edge of his desk and leaned back, his chair squeaking. Logan didn’t think they owned a chair that didn’t squeak.

  “I only want to tell this once. We wait.” Max looked around the room. Everyone nodded.

  The men sat, patient, quiet, yet on the ready. Years of training kicked in. Hurry up and wait. Jake pulled out his phone and stared at it. Travis worked on his computer. Rowdy pulled out a knife and cleaned under his nails. Whatever they thought about to kill the time, Logan didn’t know and wasn’t sure he wanted to. What had to be locked in those minds—well, he had his own demons. No sense in taking on everyone else’s.

  At last, the door to the office opened, and Gunnar blew in. Tall, built, blond, and tanned, he strode to his desk and sat. “Here.”

  Max nodded and stood. “So. Logan is the reason we’re all here. It seems he’s fallen into something, and we, as a team, need to decide if we can help him or not.”

  Jake said, “I’m in.”

  Logan laughed. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”

  Jake shrugged. “I’m bored. It’s got to be better than farting around my workshop.”

  “So that was that smell?” Rowdy crowed, holding his nose and waving his hand in front of his face.

  “Kiss my ass.” Jake shot him the one-finger salute. Rowdy blew him a kiss.

  “Men.” Max could silence them with a single word. Logan admired his skill, his ability to lead without pushing anyone. Men just followed Maximillian Howe, as if it was his right.

  “Y’all know Billy had a kid sister, Shae, right?” Heads nodded. “Well, according to Logan, Shae has a problem. Seems her father has disappeared.” He told the men what Logan had said about a possible kidnapping.

  “But there’s been no ransom demand?” Gunnar asked. “A week and no ransom?” He shook his head. “Sounds off.”

  Logan spoke up. “Here’s the problem with that. Shae doesn’t know if the company has gotten a ransom, ignored it, refused it, or paid it and they didn’t return him. They’ve cut her out of the information loop.”

  “That’s not good.” Travis shook his head. “I could see if I can hack into their company email network, find some info on it.”

  Max nodded. “I want as much intel as possible before we jump into this. We have twenty-four hours to make an educated decision. Travis, Gunnar, check into the incursion and extraction possibilities. Jake, make sure we have everything here we might need if we have to go in. If they’re hiding in the jungle, that’s one scenario,
but they could be hiding in an urban area or a small village.”

  “Got it.” Gunnar nodded.

  Travis typed into his computer. “I’ll see what I find on satellite imagery. A week ago, right?”

  Max nodded. “The corporate office is located in Brasília. However, we don’t know when, where, or if he was taken. I want to have some answers before we commit our time, our lives, and our hearts into this mission.”

  He stared around the room, gazing into each man’s eyes. “If anyone thinks they can’t handle this, or that we shouldn’t go, speak up now or before we vote. I told Logan, it’s all or nothing.”

  The men shook their heads.

  “Dismissed.” Max rapped his knuckles on the desk, and Rowdy and Jake stood and left. Travis and Gunnar glanced at each other. It wasn’t a good look.

  Logan growled. “What? Just say it.”

  Gunnar pushed away from his desk and locked his hands behind his head. “Look. I get the whole Billy was your best friend thing. You want to help his sister. But this can be trouble, in a big way. Trouble we don’t need. It’s been good here. Quiet. No drama. This is drama.”

  “I know.” Not much else he could say or deny.

  “Travis? What’s your take?” Logan looked to their IT, communications, and logistics man. Most of this mission would depend on Travis’s skills and knowledge to find Shae’s father and get them in and out without anyone knowing.

  “It’s a challenge.” Travis shrugged. “I like a challenge, but I’m not the only one making this decision. Some of the guys—” he gazed toward the door to the garage “—might not be in such good shape. This could mess a few of them up.”

  Logan nodded. “I agree. That’s why it’s all or nothing. I don’t want any of us getting hurt or…hurt worse than we already are.”

  Max sighed and ran his hand though his close-cropped hair. “Look. I’m not going to lie. A part of me wants to do this. Experience the rush again. Get out in the field.”

  “Carry a rifle.” Gunnar smirked.

  “Shoot someone,” Travis deadpanned.

  Max snorted and shook his head.

  “The teamwork. Like putting on a pair of just-right faded Levis.” Travis ran his hand over his thigh. “But there’s shit there too. Bad shit. You, better than any of us, know that, Logan. Jake, well, he’s as good as he’s been in years. I’d hate to see him backslide like a Baptist in a whorehouse.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” Logan swore under his breath. “I don’t want this to tear us apart. If the vote is no, I go on my own. No hard feelings. No regrets.”

  Travis glanced at Gunnar, then back to Logan. “Think that’s wise?”

  “It might not be wise, but I’m not going to let Shae or Billy down.” Logan gave them each a hard stare, trying to telegraph the seriousness of his intentions.

  They just went back to their work.

  Logan knew it was only a matter of time. Tomorrow at nine, he had to call Shae and tell her what he’d decided.

  And he had no intention of letting her down. Whether Max and the men agreed or not.

  Logan would go alone to Brazil, find Shae’s father, and bring him home whether he liked it or not.

  »»•««

  Gunnar leaned back in his chair and clapped his hands.

  “What’s up?” Logan tried to keep the hope out of his voice.

  “We can fly from here to Brasília on a cargo plane under Maximus Garage business, no problem. That includes our equipment. We’ve used them before to ship a few vehicles to South America. They are discreet, and the price is affordable, especially if Mr. Walker is paying.”

  “Good.” A thrill of excitement traveled up Logan’s spine as the first piece fell into place. “Max? Any ideas on if, when, and where he was taken?”

  “Maybe. I’m going over some reports on the eco-terrorists. We might be on the right path with them. Looks like they’ve gotten progressively more violent in the last few months. From what I can glean from news articles, there’s been a shake-up in their upper management. It got pretty ugly. The new head honcho is a lot more militant than the last guy, who dropped out of sight.” He looked over the black-framed glasses he used to read that perched on his nose. “Marco Esposa. Used to be a mid-level captain. But I’ve found records saying he’s got a past gun running.”

  “So he knows a few places to stash a man.” Logan nodded.

  “And it means he’s dangerous.” Max looked over his glasses at Logan. A look passed between them, and Logan heard it loud and clear—don’t get my men killed.

  Logan gave his partner and former captain a single nod.

  “I got something.” Travis motioned them over. “Look.” He pointed to the screen. “This is recent satellite intel the Brazilian national police shot about three days ago. Seems like they’ve been watching this group for months.”

  A long column of men on the high res video trekked down narrow paths through the jungle. Most carried rifles. Some supplies on their backs.

  “See? This guy?” Travis pointed out the figure of a man. “I think this might be Shae’s dad. Look. See these dudes around him? All armed. He’s the only one without a weapon or a backpack. And he’s wearing a white shirt, not camouflage like the others.”

  “That is odd.” Max bit his bottom lip. “Can you zoom in?”

  “Not much more. It’s high res, but not enough. Won’t go better than twenty meters. I’d need at least two meters to get a positive ID.”

  “Can you get geographical coordinates from that?” Max straightened.

  “Sure. Just give me a few.” Travis bent over his keyboard. “Sending them to you now.”

  “Okay. It’s few days old, but it gives us a place to start.” Max looked at each of them. Logan knew from experience what they had as evidence of Mr. Walker’s disappearance wouldn’t be enough to suit Max.

  “Let me work on the company memos a little more.” Travis typed as if he were a dirt devil spinning over West Texas’s hard-packed ground.

  Logan held his breath and glanced at the clock. Nearly nine p.m. and they were still gathering intel. They hadn’t even stopped for dinner. Whether the men decided to go or not, he still had all their information to use. It wasn’t like he was going in with nothing to show.

  Travis hooted. “Hot damn! Got it!”

  Logan rushed to his side. “What?”

  “Check this out. Corporate emails discussing the disappearance of Shae’s father.” Travis read another one. “They’re dated almost a week ago. There was a flurry of emails going back and forth from the Houston office to the office in Brazil.” He skimmed a few, clicking and opening new ones.

  “And?” Logan tried to read them, but Travis read so damn fast, they moved like a blur.

  Travis halted. “Damn. Here it is. Max, you better look at this.” He leaned back as Max moved into position on the other side of his chair.

  Logan focused on the screen as he read the email.

  “Shit.” Max exhaled. “Here’s the smoking gun.”

  The email spelled it out. The corporation had received a ransom demand—to stop all fracking and drilling—from the eco-terrorists a day after Walker had disappeared. They’d refused to comply. The company approached the US consulate and had been turned away; the government stated their stand—they don’t negotiate with terrorists.

  Shae’s father was on his own.

  Chapter Five

  Walter Walker lay on the ground in a ball, curled around his knees. The damp leaf litter under him soaked into his tattered clothing. He tried to keep his eyes open, but he could barely stay awake.

  They’d moved him from camp to camp, never staying in one place long enough for him to get enough rest or enough to eat.

  If he survived this, he was going to… No, not kill anyone. He’d had enough talk of killing over the last week, listening to the threats of Marco, the group’s leader.

  Walter just wanted to see Shae. See her, tell her that he loved her, and hold
her tight.

  Last night’s campfire had died down, but the change in the light all around him signaled another day began. Another march through the jungle to another camp with unfamiliar and unfriendly faces staring at him like hungry badgers.

  These people were nothing like what he’d thought of as eco-terrorists. He’d imagined them, when he even thought about them, as college student types, young and idealistic and so sure in their motives and actions.

  That had been a dream. These people were more like paid mercenaries than committed ecologists. They acted more like soldiers. Did ecologists carry weapons?

  A shadow fell over him.

  Marco.

  “Time to go, Walker.” A heavy boot nudged him. Walter rolled onto his back, knowing by now not responding would earn him a harder kick.

  “I’m moving.” He held up his hand to ward off Marco’s displeasure, and then struggled to push up to sitting. He groaned as the muscles in his body cramped, and his spine cracked from being in the same position for hours on damp ground.

  “Make sure you’re on your feet in five minutes. We’re leaving.” Marco’s thickly accented English had been the only English he’d heard in over five days. Most of the men around him spoke Portuguese or didn’t speak at all. Walter hadn’t engaged any of them since the beginning of this nightmare, when he’d try to offer one of the men money to let him go. The man had told Marco, laughing and shaking his head.

  Marco had beaten Walter as the man held Walter’s arms behind him.

  Walter had learned. These were not civilized men. They were goddamned animals. And they would kill him in a heartbeat.

  He’d never see Shae again. She’d never know what had happened to him. The idea of Shae spending the rest of her life not knowing if he was dead or alive made his stomach roll.

  No, he had to stop thinking that way. Whatever happened, he had to stay alive. Do whatever they asked, keep his mouth shut, anything.

  A few days ago, Marco had come back to camp after being gone for nearly a day. He’d strode straight over to Walter and went wild, waving his arms, screaming at Walter, his spittle flying into Walter’s face.