Remi Was Kidnapped
Rowan returned from the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel as he stepped into the living room. His brow furrowed.
“Remi?” he called, his voice bouncing off the walls.
Silence.
Jo looked up from where she sat with the twins, a coloring book sprawled on the table between them. “She said she’d be back in a minute.”
Rowan’s stomach dipped. He walked toward the hallway, glancing into the kitchen, then into the guest room.
Empty.
“Remi,” he tried again, louder now. Still nothing.
“Did she say where she was going?” he asked Jo.
Jo shook her head. “No. Just… she stood up suddenly. Said she’d be right back. That was about ten minutes ago.”
Rowan’s jaw clenched. “Did she take her phone?”
One of the kids, Laura, looked up. “She didn’t say goodbye.”
“She always says goodbye,” Larry added.
That’s when the unease turned into full-blown dread. Rowan darted through the house, checked every room, checked the front and back doors. No sign of her.
“She wouldn’t just leave,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Not without a word.”
Jo stood now, tension creeping into her voice. “I’ll check outside. Maybe she needed air—”
“She wouldn’t leave the kids alone.”
Rowan’s voice was sharp. Final.
He moved toward the wall panel and pressed a few buttons. “Security cam.”
The screen flickered to life. Rowan skipped through the footage, rewinding to about fifteen minutes ago.
“There,” he said, pointing.
The footage showed Remi stepping into the hallway. She paused, as if hearing something. Then she turned.
Two figures appeared from the edge of the frame.
Rowan’s heart stopped.
They were wearing... faces. His face. Jo’s face. But it wasn’t them. The eyes were wrong. Too glassy. Too still. Their movements were too clean, too perfect. Uncanny.
“What the hell—” Jo whispered, stepping closer.
Rowan’s fists balled.
On the screen, Remi backed away slowly, confusion on her face. She said something—they couldn’t hear it—but her body language was clear: alarm. Suspicion.
Then one of them—his doppelganger—reached into their coat and pulled out a small device. It looked like a flashlight.
He pressed it to Remi’s eyes.
Her knees buckled.
She collapsed like a ragdoll.
Jo gasped and covered her mouth.
The other imposter caught her before she hit the ground. They looked around briefly—then moved off screen, Remi limp in their arms.
“Oh my God,” Jo whispered. “Rowan—she’s been—”
“Kidnapped.”
He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. He just stared at the screen like it would offer a different outcome if he waited long enough.
“Who the hell wears our faces?”
Jo shook her head, her voice shaking. “That was a silicon mask. That wasn’t tech. That was someone trying to look like us—trying to make her feel safe.”
Rowan’s chest heaved.
“She didn’t fight,” he muttered. “She trusted them. She thought—” His throat closed. “She thought she was seeing us.”
He turned away from the screen, shaking his head. “How did they get past the security? We’ve got guards. Gates. Cameras. How did they get this close?”
Jo pulled out her phone. “I’ll alert the security team. I’ll send a freeze command on all exits. Maybe they haven’t gotten far—”
“She’s been gone for over ten minutes,” Rowan said, already moving toward the door. “They planned this. They had a window.”
Jo's voice cracked. “We need the police. FBI. Whoever. Rowan, this wasn’t some random attack. This was organized. That wasn’t a kidnapping. That was an extraction.”
The word sank into his chest like a lead weight.
“Who would do this?” she whispered. “And why now?”
Rowan didn’t answer.
He stormed down the hallway, entered the control room, and dialed Callum.
“Boss?”
“I need every damn camera within a ten-mile radius pulled up. City cams. Traffic cams. Private feeds. I don’t care. Remi’s been taken.”
There was silence.
“Say that again?”
Rowan growled. “She was taken. Two people wearing silicon masks—mine and Jo’s. They used a device. Some kind of light. Knocked her out cold. I want every eye in the city scanning for a black SUV. Plate starts with T8N. They turned down Eastward Avenue.”
“I’m on it,” Callum said immediately. “Sending a team to your location now.”
Rowan hung up.
His mind raced.
Why her? Why now? And how the hell did they bypass all his defenses?
He turned, found Jo standing in the doorway.
“They were prepared,” she said softly.
“I know.”
“They knew where she’d be. What time. How long you’d be gone.”
“Someone leaked this.”
Jo’s eyes were wide. “Do you think it’s Gigi?”
Rowan didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t think so—but because his gut was already screaming yes.
The front door slammed as Callum and his team stormed in. Armed. Ready.
Rowan didn’t wait for questions.
“She’s somewhere out there. Find her. I don’t care if we burn half the city to do it.”
Jo stepped forward. “Rowan…”
He looked at her.
“She’s strong,” she said quietly. “But whatever they did to her…”
Rowan’s hands trembled.
“She thought she was safe,” he muttered. “She thought she was seeing us.”
He turned back to the screen. The moment Remi’s knees buckled played again on repeat. The way her arms dropped. The way her head tilted.
The trust in her eyes, right before it faded.
That did it.
His voice dropped low. Dark.
“Whoever did this,” he said, “is going to wish they never touched her.”
Rowan didn’t wait for anyone to breathe. He pulled out his phone, dialed a secured line, and walked straight into his office, slamming the door behind him. Callum followed, already typing furiously on his tablet.
“Activate Sentinel Protocol,” Rowan said into the phone.
“Sir, that’s classified. Are you—”
“Do it.”
The line went dead.
Jo lingered by the doorway, her voice hesitant. “What’s Sentinel Protocol?”
Callum didn’t look up. “It’s not public. Only a few of us even know about it.”
Jo’s eyes widened. “What does it do?”
“Mobilizes every Vaughn-trained operative still on the payroll. Worldwide.”
Rowan hung up and faced Callum. “I want eyes in every airport, train station, private hangar. No one leaves this city without us knowing. Check the ports. Private boats. Helipads. I don’t care if they’re hiding under a manhole—dig the damn street up.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And call Alexander. Tell him to start backtracing every call made to and from this property in the last forty-eight hours. I want facial recognition run on every masked bastard on that footage. And check their gait. Silicon masks don’t change how someone walks.”
“Already on it.”
He turned to Jo. “Keep the twins inside. Don’t tell them what’s going on. If they ask, lie.”
Jo nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You think they’re after her because of you?”
He d
idn’t answer.
But they both knew.
“Do you want me to contact Gigi? She might have a hand, we could see that she is up to” she asked.
His head snapped up. “No.”
Jo blinked. “Rowan—”
Authors Note: I might continue with Harper story later but maybe I could give it a closure later on. Hehe.
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