If anyone ever wanted to know if Hell was real, I could now confirm it was, and it was a place on earth. In SoHo. More specifically, in a crowded factory with electronic music blowing out my eardrums, neon lights flashing everywhere, as twentysomething-year-olds danced (jumped? gyrated?) around me. If one more girl half my age grabbed my ass or hit on me, I was outta there, leaving the mission up to Hudson and my sister.

“They’re all high as a kite,” I grumbled, assuming they could still hear me over comms thanks to the high-tech noise-canceling feature they came with. However, the DJ was testing the sound barrier, so maybe not.

I searched Izzy and Hudson out on the crowded dance floor. She had her arms over his shoulders, grinding up against him. Perfect. I rolled my eyes and looked away from the two of them.

“I still can’t believe you used to go to raves,” I huffed out. The fact that Izzy had once hung out in places like this while in high school, and I’d been a half a world away on a sub, made me physically ill. Being in this place was a harsh reminder of that reality.

“I don’t want to imagine Bella was ever at a place like this and not without one of us having her six.” Hudson was on the same page of fuck that shit as I was, confirming they could hear me.

“That was forever ago when I was in high school, and I was only at raves to dance and for nothing else,” she shot back. “Anywayyyyy.”

“Sure, you better deflect.” I shook my head, redirecting my focus to the VIP area and the reason we were there in the first place.

Daniel and his boss, Jamie, and a few other unknowns sat at one of the tables in the roped-off section by the dance floor. I needed Jamie to get his ass moving so this op could end, and I could go back to thinking about all I currently cared about—my son and my . . . well, the mother of my child.

I was two seconds away from changing my mind and returning to the original plan to snatch and grab Jamie so we could exfil when Jamie and Daniel finally got up. I shoved away from the support beam I’d been leaning against and alerted Hudson and Izzy to the fact they were on the move.

“Roger that,” Hudson transmitted back.

“They’re—” The words and the blood flow to my brain stopped at the same time. My heart needed reviving as well because that couldn’t be Colin on the dance floor, lip-locked with a blonde.

Shock had me tethered to the floor, forgetting how to be an operator with my son in a room full of people on drugs and gangbangers.

“We have him in our sights,” Izzy shared.