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hired King's Men after almost a week of cooperating with the police. The cops were doing their best, but Freddie was the eighth newborn to go missing from hospitals all over Colorado in the past four months, and they were simply overwhelmed by false leads and mired in jurisdictional red tape.
    King's Men had no such issues. They gave finding that baby their full attention and they didn't worry about treading carefully around the local PD egos and politics. There were huge advantages to being private contractors and that included calling their own fucking shots.
    "OK," King said. "Tex and Honey, go."
    "Roger that."
    Flat on his stomach, King watched as they approached the side door, guns drawn. Tex tried the door and looked stunned when it was actually unlocked. He and Honey shook their heads and King did too. What kind of fucking kidnappers were this careless? Stupid ones, for damn sure, but also unprofessional, overconfident ones. He very much hoped that all these things would work against them now. Arrogant meant unprepared, in King's experience, and that was something he'd be happy to exploit.
    "We're in," Honey said.
    "Anyone?"
    "No. But we hear them. They're close to the front."
    "Excellent. Tank and Knox, go in hot on my mark. Anyone tries to get out the side doors, Honey and Tex, you shoot 'em in the fucking knees. I'll handle the back."
    "With pleasure," Tex growled.
    "I'm moving now," King said. "Wait for my green."
    "Got it, boss," Tank said. "Waitin'."
    He ran to the back of the building, alert and aware of everything. He got to the door and was mildly surprised to find it locked, but it was an old-fashioned key lock and he flicked it open in less than twenty seconds. He eased the door open, stood back. No movement inside, no noise, so he ducked in quickly.
    "I'm in," he said quietly. "Go."
    He heard the blast as Tank blew the front door clean off its hinges with his shotgun, heard the panicked voices and shouting. Moving now, moving towards the chaos, he came face-to-face with a man. The little prick blinked in shock and raised his gun.
    Without a second of hesitation, King shot him in the hand. The man howled and dropped the gun, and King was on him. He smashed his head in to the floor and the man went still.
    "Asshole," King muttered and got to his feet again. He stuck the man's gun in the waistband of his jeans –
never know when a spare might come in handy
– and crept down the hallway.
    The shooting was much louder now, and he heard his people shouting commands to stand still and drop weapons. From the sound of Tex's roars, these idiots weren't such great listeners and King grinned when he heard the unmistakable sound of fists on flesh and bone. It was ugly in there, no doubt about that, but that wasn't King's concern. His people were handling the kidnappers and he had to find that baby.
    I'm coming, kiddo. You just hang in there
.
    He moved faster, checking every room, every corner. The fact that Freddie wasn't crying after all that noise was worrying; King hoped that whatever drugs they'd given him weren't too strong. They had some supplies here and Knox could handle basic medical shit, but none of his team were real doctors.
    There was one closed door at the very end of the hall and he approached it carefully, sure that this was where Freddie was. He listened, heard nothing inside, turned the handle, flung the door open. It rebounded off the wall and he stepped aside, expecting a blast of gunfire, but absolutely nothing happened.
    They left the baby alone? Goddammit, these guys are morons and I truly look forward to having a word with them
.
    There was a filthy bundle on the floor and King's heart actually stopped when he saw a tiny hand peeking out from the blankets. He kicked the door closed behind him and locked it, holstered his gun and ripped off the kevlar. He crossed the room in three paces and fell to his knees next to the baby. Gently, so gently, he plucked Freddie from the stinking blankets and