Free Extraction Point (Ricochet #3) by Heather C. Leigh

have a recent photo of Travis to scan. Only his old DMV photo, one without the alterations Quinn had made to his face.
    Rick pulled up the grainy photo Tucker had isolated from a security camera near where Hardy took Quinn. It wasn’t good enough to use in the facial recognition program, but it was good enough to make Rick smile. It was obvious, even with the poor quality of the image, that something was wrong with his face. He wasn’t sure what, and wasn’t about to ask Quinn no matter how badly he wanted to know. Upsetting her for information was the last thing he would do at this point.
    In his peripheral vision, Rick spotted movement on one of the screens. He jumped to his feet, staring incredulously at the security camera live feed.
    “Fuck!”
    Rick thrust his hand under the desk, pulling a nine-millimeter Glock out of a holster mounted beneath the solid surface, knowing a round was already chambered.
    Goddamn it! I should be carrying my own weapons at all times!
    He cursed himself for his poor planning, and for leaving Quinn alone. Fucking Xavier!
    Rick raced through the gym, barreling out the front door. Sprinting across the parking lot towards the woman he loved, he saw Travis trying to drag a kicking and screaming Quinn into his car. As much as he wanted to drop to one knee and shoot the fucker between the eyes, he couldn’t. Not with Quinn thrashing in his line of sight.
    “Rick!”
    He caught the fear in her wide eyes. Her desperate plea had him running as fast as he could, praying he would get the chance to kill that sick fuck. As he just about reached them, Travis looked up and their eyes met. The man’s disfigured face surprised him, but it was his eyes that caught his attention. Rick had seen that look before, the look of someone who was completely unhinged… desperate, vicious, and completely without remorse.
    Travis must have known he didn’t have time to get Quinn in the car, so he let go of his hold and jumped into the driver’s seat. He slammed the door shut, speeding out of the lot as Quinn flung herself into Rick’s arms, preventing him from getting a shot off.
    “Goddamn it!” Rick lowered his weapon, the car already merging in with traffic. He couldn’t fire his weapon at a car in the middle of downtown rush hour. “Fuuuuck!”
    Rick wanted to pull his own hair out for missing what could have been his only chance to get Travis. Though the thought was short-lived, his attention redirected as Quinn clung to him, her body heaving as she sobbed into his shirt. He tucked the Glock into the back of his waistband and scooped her up into his arms. The fury radiating through him was palpable as he carried her into the building. He didn’t stop as he walked through the gym and Xavier yelled to him, or when he passed Mack’s office and heard his boss ask what happened. Rick didn’t stop until he reached the conference room, where he sat on one of the large leather chairs with Quinn cradled in his lap.
    “Shhhhh, baby. You’re okay doll. I’m sorry, so sorry.” He spoke softly into her ear as he held her, his shirt balled up in her torn and ragged fingers. He felt like a monumental failure.
    I’m a fucking trained Force Recon Marine with an army of paid mercenaries and I can’t stop one fuckwit sheriff’s deputy from assaulting my girl.
    Rick continued to pet Quinn’s hair as she wept, his heart breaking a little more with each quiet sob. By the time she cried herself out, the conference room had filled up with the men of Sanctum, each looking angry, determined, and fully dressed in their combat gear.
    Mack entered the room last, taking the seat at the head of the table.
    They’re going to have a meeting now? With Quinn here?
    “Mack.” Rick gestured with his chin to Quinn, who was still curled up on his lap, her face buried into his chest.
    “Rick, I could give a shit less if she knows. At this point, she needs to know that we have her covered and it will be easier if she understands