Chapter Thirty Eight

Gage sagged against a pillar, an empty water bottle crushed in his fisted hand. His bruised body screamed as he waited for ibuprofen to kick in. Not that the meds would make much of a difference. Kohen had patched up Gage’s head and cheek, sealing the lacerations with glue and steri strips. Now, they stood outside the tea factory, surrounded by Sri Lankan Special Forces while awaiting exfil. Ignoring his exhaustion, magnified by worrying grief, Gage focused on his team and mentally cataloged their capability. With or without them, he’d be heading up the rescue operation.

His MSD team would still be the first choice, but as a rule of thumb, the host nation would have to weigh in and give permission. They couldn’t allow American Federal Agents to run rogue in their country. How would the Sri Lankan President work around this shitstorm? Would he block rescue efforts? Was Rajin in touch with the president, and did he know about Chantal’s kidnapping and how