Tate climbed inside the cabin of his helicopter, the metal frame trembling as the blades began their slow rotation overhead. Jacob scrambled in right behind him, followed closely by the tracker specialist and a tight contingent of heavily armed men. Out on the private tarmac, a second helicopter was already idling, its rotors cutting through the air as the rest of the tactical crew boarded. Tate was entirely set. His tactical vest was locked down, his weapons were secure, and his mind was fixed on a single, unwavering objective.
He turned his torso toward the tracker, who was already adjusting the satellite receiver mounted on a rugged laptop case. "Is the signal still picking up?" Tate demanded, his voice easily cutting through the rising whine of the engine.
The tracker kept his eyes g
