Chapter 51 Kitten In Danger
Cole Ryder's POV
I wiped the blood from my knuckles with a clean cloth, staring down at the pathetic excuse for a man tied to the chair in front of me. He was breathing heavily and sweat was dripping down his face, mixed with the blood from his split lip.
After so much torture, I felt something was wrong with the whole situation.
The entire thing had been too easy. He'd given up too quickly and confessed too readily. My instincts , gotten from years of living in shadows and blood, were screaming at me.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Jeffery.
"Boss," he answered immediately.
"Check on Celene, now."
There was a pause. "Boss, I thought you said you handled the tail?"
"I did. Just check on her and call me back in sixty seconds."
I hung up and turned back to the man in the chair. His eyes were glazed over, half-conscious from the beating I'd given him. I grabbed his face roughly, forcing him to look at me.
"Wake up," I growled.
He blinked, trying to focus.
My phone rang after fifty-eight seconds. Jeffery was efficient as always.
"Boss," his voice was tight, "she's not answering her door. I'm breaking in now."
My blood ran cold.
I heard sounds through the phone. The crack of wood and Jeffery's footsteps, then silence.
"She's gone," Jeffery said quietly. "Her place is empty and there's signs of struggle in the bedroom. I also noticed that the front door lock was picked."
The phone slipped slightly in my grip. For a moment, I couldn't breathe or think. I was trying to process what I was hearing.
Gone?Celene was gone?
"Boss?" Jeffery's voice came through. "Boss, what do you want me to do?"
I didn't answer and ended the call.
The rage that filled me was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It wasn't hot or explosive. It was cold, calculated and deadly.
I turned slowly to face the man in the chair.
He saw something in my eyes because he immediately started shaking his head, trying to speak through his broken mouth.
"Wait, wait, please, I already told you everything I know!"
I grabbed the scalpel from the table beside me.
"You lied to me," I said softly.
"No! No, I swear I didn't lie! I told you the truth!"
"You were a distraction." I leaned closer, the scalpel catching the light. "You were meant to keep me busy while they took her."
His eyes widened. "I didn't know! I swear I didn't know what they were planning!"
"Who took her?" My voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried more threat than any scream.
"I don't know! I told you, I don't know who's behind this! They never showed me their face!"
I pressed the scalpel against his cheek. "Wrong answer."
"Please! Please, I'm telling the truth! They contacted me through messages, through phone calls with a voice changer! I never met them! I just did what they told me to do!"
"Which was?"
"To follow the girl! To make myself visible so you'd chase me! To keep you talking, keep you distracted!" The words tumbled out of him desperately. "That's all I know, I swear on my life!"
"Your life means nothing to me." I dragged the scalpel down slowly, not cutting deep, just enough to draw blood and he screamed.
"Where did they take her?"
"I don't know! I don't know!" he sobbed.
I moved the scalpel to his other cheek. "Think harder."
"I'm thinking! I'm thinking! Please, I told you everything!"
"Not everything." I pressed harder. "You just said they told you to keep me distracted. Distracted for how long? Distracted while what happened?"
He was hyperventilating now, tears streaming down his face. "I don't know what they were doing! They just said to keep you busy for at least an hour! That's all!"
An hour. They'd needed an hour.
"Did they say anything else? Anything about where they were going? What they planned to do with her?"
"No! Nothing! I swear!"
I grabbed one of his fingers and bent it backward until I heard it snap. He shrieked.
"Think!" I roared. "Every detail! Every word they said to you!"
"I am! I am! There's nothing else!"
I broke another finger.
"Please! God, please! I'm trying to remember!"
"Try harder."
"Wait! Wait!" he gasped. "There was something! When they called me tonight, before I went to follow her, I heard something in the background!"
I stopped. "What did you hear?"
"It sounded like an engine! Like a big engine! And they said something about timing, about making sure the flight window was clear!"
"Flight window," I repeated slowly.
"Yes! They mentioned flying! I didn't think about it before but they were definitely talking about a plane or something! Maybe they're taking her to another country!"
A plane. They were flying her out.
I looked at the man's terrified face. He'd given me everything he had and I could see it in his eyes. There was nothing else to extract.
I picked up a larger knife from the table.
"You did well," I said.
Hope flickered in his eyes. "So you'll let me go?"
"No."
I drove the knife through his bicep, pinning his arm to the chair. His scream echoed off the walls.
"That's for touching what's mine," I said coldly.
I left him there, screaming and bleeding, and walked out of the room. Jeffery was waiting in the hallway.
"Get the team ready," I told him. "Full tactical gear. We're going to war."
"Where are we going, Boss?"
"I don't know yet but I'll find out."
I pulled out my phone and started making calls. The first was to my contact at the FAA. He owed me several favors.
"I need flight logs," I said without preamble. "Every private and commercial flight that left New York in the last two hours."
"That's a lot of data, Mr. Ryder."
"I don't care, send it to me. Now!"
The next call was to my man inside the NYPD aviation unit.
"Get me helicopter activity over Manhattan in the last two hours. I need everything."
"That's going to take some time to compile."
"You have ten minutes."
I hung up and called my third contact, a man who worked in air traffic control.
"Unregistered flights," I said. "Anything that didn't file a proper flight plan. Anything suspicious."
"Mr. Ryder, there are protocols I have to follow."
"Break them and I'll make it worth your while."
I ended the call and started pacing. Celene's face flashed through my mind. I started imagining her smile and her laugh. The way she looked at me with those brown eyes, like I was something more than a monster.
My hands were shaking. I couldn't remember the last time my hands had shaken.
My phone started buzzing with incoming data of flight logs. Dozens of them and I scrolled through them rapidly, my eyes scanning every detail.
Commercial flights to London, Paris, Tokyo. Private jets to Miami, Los Angeles, Dubai and none of them felt right.
More data came in. Helicopter activity, Tours, medical transports, news choppers and there was nothing unusual.
I kept searching and looking. My contact at air traffic control sent over a list of flights that had filed late or unusual flight plans.
Still I found nothing.
I wanted to put my fist through a wall and burn down the entire city until I found her.
Then my phone buzzed one more time.
It was a text from my FAA contact.
"Found something, though, I almost missed it. Private aircraft, filed under a shell company. Flight plan was buried deep and took off from a small airfield in Jersey two hours ago. Destination listed as an airstrip in rural Pennsylvania, but the flight path suggests they might be going further. Sending coordinates now."
The coordinates came through and I forwarded them to Jeffery immediately.
"Get everyone to the hangar," I texted. "We leave in twenty minutes."