Page 136 of Wyatt

“I need you here! With Mikka!”

“Calm down, bro. Listen, I’ll send York and RJ, okay?”

York. Yeah, he could use a guy with York’s skills. “Good.”

His phone vibrated. Another text had come in. A video. “I’ll call you back.” He hung up, and his hand shook as he opened the video.

Right there in the middle of the sidewalk, his world shattered.

Coco stood in front of some trailer, crying, her voice shaking, telling him…she loved him?

I don’t know what this man wants you to do, but whatever happens…thank you for coming to Russia.

He gripped the phone with so much force it dug into the palm of his hand. “Coco!”

What man?

He looked up and no one was watching. He listened again, and a fist grabbed his throat.

With a shaking hand he forwarded both the picture and the video to Tate.

Then the third text came in.

Meet me on the hospital playground if you want her to live.

He ran.

Wyatt found a man staring at the giraffe sculptures, his back to Wyatt.

Wyatt fought the terrible urge to simply grab him, to tear him apart where he stood.

“No one has to get hurt here, Marshall,” the man said as Wyatt got closer.

Then the man turned.

He wore gauged ears, a simple black plug in each of them, his dark hair cut short, and the hint of whiskers. And, oddly, a suit coat, jeans, and a clean blue shirt.

“My name is Alan Kobie, and if you want to see your girlfriend again, you’ll do what I ask.”

Wyatt gave him a once-over. About six feet tall, the man looked fit, but Wyatt could take him apart in seconds.

Maybe Kobie figured it out because he held up his cell phone. “Don’t do anything stupid, Marshall. And here’s why.”

As Wyatt watched, the man dialed the phone.

Wyatt didn’t know what he expected, but not a connection, then a countdown timer to appear. Kobie held it up. 4:59…4:58…4:57…

“What is that?”

“The timer on the vest. Every time I call, it starts the time. When I hang up, it resets.”

He hung up.

Looked at Wyatt. Smiled.

Redialed.

The timer started over.