“Are they going to hurt my mom?” he asked.

“I won’t let them,” I said, though the words felt heavy in my chest.

The radio in my hand hissed with static.

A voice cut through the white noise, sharp and authoritative.

“Transport Team One, we are approaching the secure perimeter.”

“Copy that,” another voice replied. “The asset is secured. The doctor is waiting on board.”

“Is the vessel ready for departure?” the first voice asked.

“Engine start is scheduled for thirty minutes,” the reply came. “The harbor master has cleared our path.”

I stared at the radio, my mind racing through the map of the Chicago shoreline.

“Dante,” Marco’s voice came back through my earpiece. “I’ve got a lock on their signal bounce.”

“Where are they?” I demanded.

“They’re bypassing the public docks,” Marco said. “The signal is originating from the private industrial basin near the mouth of the river.”

“Kane’s private yacht,” I muttered.

“Yes,” Marco confirmed. “The *Aegis*. It’s a hundred-and-fifty-foot luxury vessel registered under one of his shell companies.”

The snow was falling thicker now, obscuring the distant skyline of the city.