"The jet," Liam said. "In transit from Berlin to the safe house in Mendoza."
Dallas frowned, wondering how Argentina played into the mix as he walked naked onto the balcony so that he could speak freely. Below, at the party, a few women nudged each other as they looked up and pointed. He barely noticed them. "I'm listening."
"Mueller pulled the kid from his private school in Shanghai and managed to smuggle him to Europe. We finally caught up to the bastard in Germany
. Quince did a fine job getting him talking," he added. Dallas's boarding school roommate was now officially an MI6 operative and unofficially one of the core members of Deliverance, the handpicked covert team that Dallas had put together over a decade ago.
He'd started the organization as a way to find--and destroy--his tormentors, but it had evolved into so much more than that. Deliverance had become a powerful force, doing whatever was necessary to rescue kidnapped children, and its select, discreet clientele found their way to the organization through word of mouth and referrals. And no client could point the way back to Dallas or any of the other men.
Deliverance pushed the envelope, it bent the law. Most of all, it got the job done.
Dallas took a breath, just to ensure that his voice was steady. "So you're saying that Mueller told you about the sixth?"
"In the course of the interrogation, yes. We went through the standard questions to determine if he knew anything about your kidnapping."
"And he did."
"The son of a bitch is a goddamn rabid dog in service to anyone with a tasty enough bone."
"Any reason to believe that Mueller was actually involved?" It was a stretch, but maybe Mueller was the sixth, now trying to obfuscate the facts. Hell, maybe he was the goddamn Jailer.
"Negative," Liam said. "He was serving time in a German prison for six months before and eighteen months after you two were snatched. He wasn't involved--I'd bet my reputation on it. But he's still a source, and potentially a key one. He knew about your kidnapping and a shit ton of others."
Dallas clenched his fists as he drew a breath, forcing down the fury that threatened to overwhelm him. "How'd he know about mine? Word on the street?"
If so, that was interesting in and of itself. Eli Sykes had kept the kidnapping secret--he hadn't told anyone except his closest circle. Not the press, not the FBI, not Scotland Yard. Nobody. He'd taken matters into his own hands, hiring mercenaries, arranging to pay ransom. And above all, keeping it very, very quiet.
To this day, Dallas wasn't sure if his father had done too much or too little. Yes, he and Jane had gotten free. But the price they'd paid was brutal.
Even now, almost two decades later, the world believed that Dallas Sykes, the screwup son of billionaire retailer Eli Sykes, had left his posh boarding school for a stint in a private hospital. As for Jane, the press hadn't noted her disappearance at all, and she'd kept it a closely held secret.
When he'd recruited for Deliverance, Dallas had told his team the truth. They needed to understand the purpose, after all. Besides, each man had his own reason for being dedicated to Deliverance and its mission. More important, Dallas knew he could trust them.
But even they knew only about the kidnapping. They didn't know the worst of what happened inside those dank, locked rooms. Hell, not even Jane knew the worst of it, and she'd been in the dark with him.
"Not street gossip," Liam confirmed. "Our target's name is Silas Ortega. He was the sixth, and he's got a rep for doing pretty much anything if the pay is right. He's also got a rep for keeping his mouth shut, but I guess the thrill of bragging about how he screwed over the great Eli Sykes was just too much even for him. He told someone, and Mueller got wind."
"And he traded that intel to us."
"You could say that," Liam said.
A thin smile touched his lips, but Dallas didn't press. He didn't need to hear what Quince had done to Mueller in order to extract the intel. Every member of Deliverance did what they had to do. Hell, the group was named for its mission to fuck the bad guys in the ass.
"And check this out," Liam added, a hint of excitement coloring his businesslike presentation. "Mueller said Ortega would have known who he was working for. Said he isn't the kind of asshole who works for a voice with a bank account. He's loyal and he's brutal and he's damn effective, but he only works for people he knows."
Hope curled in Dallas's gut. Not soft, but as hard and as harsh as the bastard he was chasing. The bastard who Ortega could identify. "And Ortega's in Argentina?"
"He owns a vineyard there. Security's intense, but Quince is on it, and Noah's providing support from the States."
"And Antonio?" Dallas asked, referring to the fifth and final member of Deliverance.
"Wrapping things up in China."
Dallas nodded as he considered the options. "Move in at the first opportunity. Grab Ortega and get Quince working him. Eventually, we'll want to get him across the border to Valparaiso. We can smuggle him out on a cargo ship." Deliverance had solid connections in the Chilean port city.
"Already on it. Looks like the Minerva's scheduled to arrive soon," he said, referring to a freighter they'd hired before. "I'll let you know when--oh, hell. Hang on."
"What?"