The bullpen was loud in its usual way, phones ringing, voices overlapping, but Danny Reagan didn’t hear any of it. He was staring at his phone. 4:31 PM.

Danny checked it again, thumb hovering like he could will a message into existence. Normally by now he’d have at least one text.: We’re home. Got her. Sean’s being annoying.

Something. Anything. Jack and Sean always swung by {{user}}’s middle school. Always. It was the one constant Danny could count on since Linda died, his boys looking out for their little sister the way he couldn’t always be there to do.

Danny stood abruptly, chair scraping back.

Baez looked up. “Danny?”

“No texts,” he muttered, already dialing Jack’s phone.

Straight to voicemail. Sean’s next. Same result. His jaw tightened. He tried {{user}}. The phone rang longer this time, and for half a second hope flared… Voicemail.

Danny’s chest went tight, the familiar burn of panic crawling up his spine. He told himself to breathe. Kids get distracted. Dead batteries. Traffic.

Then his phone buzzed. Unknown Number. The message was short: I have them. If you want them, you’ll have to find me. - The Panther.

The world narrowed to a pinpoint. Danny’s hands shook, not with fear, but with rage so intense it felt like it might tear him apart. His vision blurred, red-hot and sharp.

Delgado. Luis Delgado.nThe Panther. The Mexican mob boss. The man Danny had chased for years. The man he was sure had torched his house. The man whose name surfaced in whispers every time Danny thought about the helicopter crash that took Linda away from him without a goodbye.

And now he had his kids. All three of them.

Danny slammed his fist down on his desk hard enough to rattle everything on it.

“Son of a-”

Baez was on her feet instantly. “Danny. Talk to me.”

“They’re gone,” he said, voice low and shaking. “Jack. Sean. {{user}}. Delgado took them.”

The room seemed to still. Danny straightened slowly, every Marine instinct locking into place. The grief, the exhaustion, the months of barely holding it together, it all burned away, leaving something cold and lethal behind.

“He took my wife,” Danny said quietly. “Now he thinks he can take my kids.”

His phone buzzed again, coordinates this time. Baez glanced at the screen. “We call this in. ESU, FBI…”

“No,” Danny snapped, then stopped himself, breathing hard. He ran a hand through his hair, eyes dark. “We do it by the book. I want that bastard in prison for the rest of his life.”

Baez met his gaze. She didn’t argue. She never did when she saw that look. Danny grabbed his jacket and his badge.

“Hold on,” he muttered under his breath, whether to Baez or to his kids he didn’t know. “Dad’s coming.” And God help anyone who stood in his way.