Chapter 6 - THE MISSING MOTHER
The cabin was so quiet that the soft, steady breathing of Baby Luca sounded like a breeze in an empty room.
Vincent remained crouched on the carpet, his mind racing through decades of dark, underworld intelligence, network connections, high-level surveillance, and black-market technology. A tiny disc hidden under a kitchen table. A mother vanishing without a sound, leaving her shoes and coat behind. A matching disc hidden inside his own son's blanket on a private transatlantic flight.
This wasn't a kidnapping attempt. It wasn't an extortion plot by a rival syndicate.
This was something infinitely larger, cleaner, and far more terrifying.
"Where is your sister?" Vincent asked, his voice dropping into a deep, protective tone.
"Behind the curtain," Leah replied, pointing a small finger toward the locked velvet barrier at the back of first class. "Row fifteen. She's sleeping. She has her stuffed rabbit."
"What's her name?"
"Maya. She's three."
Vincent turned his head slightly toward Marco.
"Go get her," Vincent commanded coldly. "Bring her in here. Put her in the front seat next to the bulkhead. Nobody touches her. Nobody speaks to her."
Marco didn't ask questions. He unlatched the velvet curtain, slipped through the gap into the main passenger cabin, and returned fifteen seconds later carrying a small, sleepy girl with curly light-brown hair. Maya was wearing a pale pink travel outfit, her thumb stuffed into her mouth, her tiny arms wrapped tightly around a battered, threadbare stuffed rabbit with one floppy ear missing.
Maya blinked groggily against the bright light of first class, letting out a soft sigh as Marco placed her gently into the wide, plush cream leather seat in the front row. She didn't wake up fully; she simply curled onto her side, clutching her rabbit against her chest, and fell back asleep.
Leah let out a soft breath of relief, her shoulders dropping an inch as she saw her younger sister safe inside the locked perimeter.
Vincent turned his attention back to Leah. He remained on one knee, his broad hands still cradling Luca, his steel watch gleaming under the lights.
"What's your mother's name, Leah?" Vincent asked, his dark eyes locked onto hers with absolute focus.
Leah hesitated.
For the first time since she had walked into the cabin, a flicker of doubt crossed her pale face. She looked at the heavy, tattooed men standing around the room. She looked at the expensive silk shirt Vincent wore, the dark ink creeping up his neck, and the terrifying authority he commanded over everyone in the sky.
She knew these were dangerous men. Her mother had taught her how to spot dangerous men—how to look at their hands, their eyes, the way they stood near exits.
"It's okay," Vincent said, his gravelly voice remarkably gentle. "I need to know who she is, Leah. If she found one of these... she wasn't just a mother living in a quiet house. Tell me her name."
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Leah took a deep breath, her small fingers clutching her cardigan tightly.
"Her name is Sarah," Leah whispered. "Sarah Carter."
