“And you didn’t think to call your brother to double check?” I growl. The man shakes his head at me, his beard twitching with indignation.
“Mark handles his family. I handle mine. Misty’s not my business,” he says angrily. I nod. I want to tear his throat out, but manage to maintain my composure.
“Any ideas as to what could have happened? Any other family members in the country she could be visiting right now? Or what about the men who brought her here? Have you tried contacting them?”
“Oh no. That’s not my place. I cannot question my brother’s employees,” he responds.
So he knows something about the Snows’ business dealings, I think. After all, before leaving the United States I reached out to my intelligence contacts and got a full rundown on what Mark and Susan have been up to. I highly doubt that Misty knows the truth about her parents because the news made me sick. Mark and Susan are in fact traitors to the United States, and bile rises up in my throat at the knowledge.
Suddenly, the sound of chimes breaks through the silence. I check my phone quickly and see that it’s an unidentified caller. Strange. Who would be trying to reach me now? I press the green “call” button and answer.
“Hello?”
At first, there’s no sound.
“Hello, hello?”
A crackle rings out and then a voice.
“Jordan?” comes a small mewl. “I need you,” she says before beginning to cry. Immediately, I’m on my feet, every cell alert.
“Sweetie, I’m going to need you to try to stay calm for me okay? I’m going to save you. Do you know where you are?”
Misty’s whispering, but I can hear the hysteria in her voice.
She knows this phone call may be her only chance at rescue, and she’s probably taking a hell of a risk making it. I’m so proud of her for finding a way to reach me.
“I’m in Azerbaijan. I got the guard to confirm it. They have me in a home for unwed mothers, a prison really, Jordan. I don’t know where it is, and I barely remember coming here. I lied to a guard to get a phone. What do I do? They want to take my baby!”
I go stock still. A baby? My baby? But I force myself to stay calm.
“Don’t worry. Just hang tight, sweetheart. I’m going to come get you. I need you to stay on this line as long as you safely can, but is there anything else you can tell me that might help me locate you?”
She cries again, and my heart breaks.
“I don’t know Jordan. It’s a real old, run down brick building. Very large. It’s in the middle of nowhere and it’s filled with girls just like me. What did we do wrong? I don’t understand.” Her voice is growing more and more frantic the longer she’s on the line.
Oh shit, Misty must be in serious danger. I can’t believe she’s been gone so long while I was just sitting at home. What the fuck is wrong with me?
But I have to keep calm for the woman I love.
“Anything else, sweetheart? Tell me more,” I say steadily, keeping my voice as strong and confident as I can for both her sake and mine.
“I know I’m in Block 3, Cell A. Oh wait, Isar is coming back now! I have to go. Please hurry. If you’re too late, it is going to end badly for me.”
Then, the line goes dead. I stare blankly at the phone. I want to figure out what she meant by that, but there’s no time. I call my connection at the CIA.
“Did you track it?”
The voice in my ear sounds in the affirmative, and without even saying goodbye to Misty’s relatives, I leave. Moments later, I have two sets of GPS coordinates in hand. This is it. I make my way to the nearest dark site, and a sergeant greets me upon entry.
“Sir, the plane’s on its way. We’ll be ready to head out in moments.” Tears begin to swell in my eyes and I thank my lucky stars for my contacts in the intelligence service.
“Alright,” I say in a calm voice. “We’re headed to Azerbaijan. Be ready to roll as soon as the wheels hit the ground.”
Within thirty minutes, I’m boarding a plane with a squad of special ops guys at hand. This is going to be ugly, but I don’t care how fucked up things get because my only mission is to save the woman I love.
After landing in Azerbaijan, we switch to a helicopter. After what feels like a lifetime, Misty’s prison comes into view on the horizon, and I visualize a blueprint of the building before me. I begin to count the wings to determine where cell block 3 might be.
Leaning out the side door, I shout directions at the pilot. I better be right because we only have one shot at getting her out of there. Hell, they already know we’re here because this Blackhawk is so fucking loud.