John had been through a lot in his life. Afghanistan had been one of the most emotionally exhausting experiences in his life, and he had thought nothing could possibly even approach some of the things that he had seen.
Until now, facing the probability that something had just happened to his wife.
When they reached the store and they found Cait's and Fred's bags on the ground, John pulled out his gun and looked around. He swore to God that he was going to shoot the son of a bitch. No questions. No second chances. The asshole was dead for this.
"A flickering yellow light?" Myka said, furrowing her brow. "That sounds like Jack the Ripper's lantern. Warehouse agents have been looking for that for years. It mesmerizes people, which would explain how he would be able to get Fred and Cait. But I don't understand how he could have gotten them out of here without anyone seeing."
John looked over at her, seeing the worry on her face for her cousin as she spoke.
"When we find him, I'm tearing him about," John seethed.