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Synopsis
A-Tac is an elite CIA unit masquerading as faculty at an Ivy League college. Brilliant, badass, and seemingly bulletproof, the members of A-Tac are assigned to the riskiest missions and the most elusive targets. TORN BETWEEN DUTY AND DESIRE Covert operations expert Nash Brennon has spent the last eight years trying to forget Annie Gallagher, his former field partner and the only woman he ever loved. Annie betrayed him when he needed her most, then vanished without a trace. Now suddenly she's back in the game - this time as a suspected traitor and threat to national security. Annie's son has been kidnapped by political terrorists. The price for his life? Assassinate a UN ambassador. When Nash and his group find her, the smoldering passion between Annie and the man she swore she'd never contact again blazes out of control. But can Nash trust her? The stakes couldn't be higher: Their enemy's endgame is personal, and one false move could cost them their lives.
Release date: April 1, 2010
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Print pages: 384
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Dark Deceptions
Dee Davis
Hotel Montague—Paris
So do you think we’re ever going to feel like a normal couple?” Annie asked as they stumbled back into their hotel room, Nash’s
hands cupping her breasts, his breath hot against her cheek.
“Trust me, angel, normal is overrated.” He pushed her back against the wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles through the
soft silk of her halter top. “And anyway, I kind of like what we’ve got.”
“Right,” she sighed, shivering as he kissed her neck. “Sex on the run.”
“Well, it’s not like we have a lot of free time.” His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue sending fire lacing through her
belly. It was always like this. Combustible. Their desire heightened by the possibility that each time could be the last.
“Maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom?” She nodded toward the doorway of the suite, and then gasped as he pushed her skirt
up around her thighs.
“What’s wrong with right here? Right now?” He teased her with his fingers, the friction of satin against skin threatening
instant explosion. She lifted her hips, but he pulled back, his slow smile taunting her. “Unless of course you’ve changed
your mind?”
“Not on your life.” She reached up to unbutton his shirt, her fingers tracing the scars that laced his chest. Twisted mementos
of their life together. “Tell me what you want,” she whispered, her breathing labored.
“You, Annie. All I ever want is you.”
“So take me,” she taunted, anticipation coiling inside her, hot and heavy. Sometimes she thought maybe she wanted something
more. Something that resembled normalcy—commitment. But not now. Not in this moment. Right now all she wanted was Nash.
For a moment their passion stretched taut between them; and then, trembling with the sheer power of the feelings he evoked,
she arched her back, welcoming his hands and mouth as he crushed her against him. This was what she craved. What she wanted.
As long as she had Nash, she could endure anything.
Anything.
“The bed… I can’t… please.” She gasped the words as they stumbled backward, the need so intense now she thought she might
die of it.
His dark eyes reflecting her passion, Nash swung her up into his arms and in two strides they were through the door and on
the bed, the cool cotton sheets a counterpoint to the heat that pulsed between them.
Annie pressed against him, her eyes riveted for a moment on the mirror across from the bed and the image of their interlocked
bodies moving in tandem. Two shattered souls desperately seeking release. She sighed, and then froze as something else in
the mirror moved.
A shadow detached itself from the wall, and Annie dug her nails into Nash’s back, instinct and training overriding passion
in an instant. Nash’s muscles tightened in response, and moving with a precision gained from years of working together, they
sprang apart, a bullet smashing into the headboard between them. Annie rolled to the floor, reaching for the gun she kept
strapped to her thigh. In her ardent haste she hadn’t had time to remove her weapon.
But Nash had. He’d thrown his on the table as he’d carried her to bed.
Damn it all to hell.
From her vantage point beside the bed, she couldn’t see Nash or their assailant. Which meant she needed to move. Popping up
to fire a round in the direction of the shadow, she rolled out from the bed, diving for cover behind a chair as a bullet shattered
a lamp just above her head.
Nash was cornered between the bed and the wall, the bed giving protection, at least for the moment, but the gunman had the
advantage. He stood between them and the door, with a large wardrobe to his left blocking her from taking a clear shot.
“Well, isn’t this a pickle,” their assailant said, his accent a smooth blend of American and French. She should have known.
Adrian Benoit. They’d only just been in his apartment. Looked like he was returning the favor.
“Seems we’ve got ourselves a Mexican standoff,” he drawled.
“Except that none of us are Mexican,” Nash quipped. She could see him now reflected in the mirror. And when he smiled, she
realized he could see her as well. Which meant he had a plan.
“Doesn’t matter,” Benoit continued. “I’ve clearly got the advantage.”
“So what, you want us to come out with our hands up?” Nash queried, nodding almost imperceptibly toward his gun lying on the
table about five feet in front of her.
“It would certainly make things easier. But what I really want are the files you stole from my computer.”
“And then you’ll let us go? Right. And I’ve got some swampland…” Nash’s laugh was harsh as he tipped his head slightly, signaling
for her to stand ready. Annie nodded, already shifting her position.
“Well now, there wouldn’t be any fun in letting you live, would there?” Benoit responded, anger clouding his voice.
Annie drew a breath, rolled out from behind the chair, fired once, and then dove for the table, her hand closing around the
butt of Nash’s gun. “Two o’clock,” she yelled, as she chunked the weapon overhand toward Nash, still shooting in Benoit’s
direction in an attempt to provide some modicum of cover. Her ploy worked, Benoit turning to return fire as Nash emerged from
behind the bed in a flying leap, intercepting the gun as it tumbled through the air.
Two seconds later and it was over. Benoit lay dead in a pool of his own blood.
“Are you all right?” Nash asked, pushing to his feet.
“I’m fine,” she said as they met halfway, Nash’s arms closing around her.
“You sure?” He ran his hands down her now trembling body, double-checking to ascertain if she’d told him the truth.
“Really. He didn’t hurt me. You were the one without the gun.”
“Evened the odds.” He shrugged, his voice buoyed by adrenaline, his smile edged with a ruthlessness that had kept him alive
more times than she cared to remember. “So where were we?”
“I think that ship has sailed,” she said, her gaze falling on the body.
“I suppose you’re right,” Nash said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’ve got to get out of here before someone
starts asking questions. Benoit was using a silencer. But we weren’t.”
“I’ll start wiping things down.” She pulled away and reached for a pair of gloves, falling effortlessly into a pattern they’d
perfected over countless operations.
“So what was it you said earlier?” Nash called from across the room where he was packing their gear, his tone teasing, the
fact that they’d just survived death—again—already an afterthought. “Something about wondering if we’d ever be a normal couple?”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Annie smiled. She loved this man. With every ounce of her being. And the cold hard truth
was that she wouldn’t change a single thing about their life. “I think,” she said, reaching down to retrieve Benoit’s gun,
“that I just answered my own question.”
Island off the coast of Southeast Asia—eight years later
Get the boats under cover,” Nash Brennon said, keeping his voice low as he dragged one of the dinghies behind a pile of moss-covered
rocks. “We should have about five minutes until the perimeter guard make their way back here. Everyone know their assignment?”
It was a rhetorical question. Although sometimes personnel varied, for the most part A-Tac members had been working together
for years, and they’d certainly had operations far more difficult than this one. Only difference here was that their commander,
Avery Solomon, wasn’t present. The big man was in Washington. Some top brass bullshit. Which meant Nash was in charge.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t the experience. Trained in covert operations, he was an admitted adrenaline junkie. He’d started
his career as an operative in Europe—with Annie. But then after a particularly difficult mission she’d deserted him. Disappeared.
Almost as if she’d never existed.
He pushed the memories away. He’d moved on. To A-Tac. The CIA’s most elite black ops unit. Hell of a step up from European
operative. He didn’t need Annie. He didn’t need anyone. And right now he had a mission, and he couldn’t afford a fuckup.
“Can everyone hear me?” Emmett Walsh asked, his voice crackling as Nash’s earpiece sprang to life.
“Yeah, like a freakin’ bullhorn,” Drake Flynn said with a wince. The com system was new. Emmett’s design. And even though
the man was a genius when it came to playing connect the operatives, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be hiccups. “Can you
turn the damn thing down?”
“The controls are right here,” Tyler said, tapping her ear with a grin as she looked up from a backpack full of explosives.
Tyler was Nash’s second in command for the mission. An army-trained demolitions expert, she had yet to meet a building she
couldn’t destroy. And she’d saved their asses on more than one occasion, disarming incendiary devices most people would never
even know existed.
“I’m patching Jason through now,” Emmett said. Jason Lawton, along with Hannah Marshall, served as long-distance eyes and
ears for the team. Tonight that meant keeping watch over the operation from Sunderland in New York, which, at the moment,
seemed a hell of a long way away. But at least, thanks to a couple of strategically placed satellites, they had the benefit
of Jason and Hannah’s constant vigilance.
“You’ve got two more minutes,” Jason intoned, as usual cutting right to the chase. “I’m showing two hostiles—both armed and
ready to rumble.”
“Always good to have big brother watching.” Nash laughed, signaling the team to move out. “We’re heading east. Target ETA
ten minutes.”
The operation was simple in conception. Destroy a communications array and its accompanying computer systems. The property
of an Asian terrorist group known as the Red Sword, the array was used to coordinate organizational efforts within the region
as well as operations abroad. Taking it out would severely cripple if not completely destroy enemy operations.
Unfortunately, the island’s heavy jungle undergrowth impeded movement, rendering the straight line between points A and B
anything but. The moisture-laden air was heavy and oppressive, making every breath an effort. The team had fanned out, Nash
on point, Drake keeping back, making sure they weren’t being followed. Even with Jason and Hannah watching over them, Nash
didn’t like taking chances. And there was no one he’d rather have at his back than Drake Flynn.
A specialist in CIA extractions, Drake had been with the team just over a year. Rumor had it that before A-Tac he’d been with
one of the CIA’s D units. Operations even more off the books than A-Tac. Not that the man ever talked about any of it. Hell,
Drake didn’t talk seriously about much of anything. But he got the job done, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really
mattered.
Something rustled in the bushes next to him, and Nash signaled the others as he spun, gun ready. But it was only a bird, eyes
glowing red in the moonlight. Focusing again on the barely discernible trail, he moved forward, careful to keep Tyler flanking
him on the left. She nodded toward an opening in the trees, and together they moved forward, Emmett following a pace or so
behind on the right, with Drake still bringing up the rear.
The jungle opened out on cleared space below them. Tall grass mixed in with stands of bamboo and a few straggling trees led
up to a concrete wall enclosing four buildings. Off to the left, separated from the rest of the compound by about fifty yards,
sat the array. It was small—just three dishes—but Nash had learned long ago that small packages could be just as lethal as
larger ones, and the members of Red Sword weren’t prone to wasting time with empty platitudes. They were far more interested
in terrorizing innocents under the guise of some perverted cosmic justice.
Only not for much longer.
“What have we got?” Nash whispered as he dropped to his stomach, using infrared glasses to scan the area below. “Any surprises?”
“Everything looks pretty much as we expected,” Drake’s voice echoed in his ear. “You can see the surveillance camera mounted
above the wall near the entrance. And if our intel holds true there should be additional units every fifty feet or so.”
“With a blind corner to the southwest in the back, thanks to an uprooted jackfruit tree,” Emmett added.
“What about the array?” Nash frowned as he studied the compound. He’d seen satellite photos, and rendered maps, but there
was nothing to beat firsthand observation.
“Three sixteen-foot dishes on machined counterbalanced mounts,” Tyler said, her goggles trained on the array. “Should be easy
enough to destroy. I’ve just got to get close enough to rig the explosives.”
“Don’t worry, Nash and I will get you in,” Drake assured. “Piece of cake.”
“Maybe not so much so,” Jason said, his tone grim. “I’m showing at least eight hostiles inside the compound.”
“Son of a bitch. There were only supposed to be two.”
“Sorry,” Hannah Marshall said, her voice cracking in transmission as she took the com-link from Jason. “Looks like some kind
of an impromptu meeting. I’ve got three boats moored off the pier. No way we could have predicted this.”
“So what do we do now?” Jason asked, patching through another com-link. “Abort?”
“Depends on where this little meeting is taking place,” Nash said, sorting through the alternatives. “Can you verify location?”
“Yeah. Hang on,” Jason said, his voice moving away as he shuffled through something on the other end. “I’ve got five in the
building farthest north. And two more in the guardhouse at the entrance.”
“And the eighth?” Drake barked.
“Give me a minute. He’s moving.” Silence stretched, tension building. “Looks like he’s heading back to the north building.”
“Can you confirm the location of the communications computers?”
“Little building closest to the array,” Hannah said, her voice coming in on a whisper. “The one without windows.”
“I see it.” Nash nodded, even though she was thousands of miles away. “So if our hostiles will just stay put we ought to be
able to get in and out without notice.”
“And if they don’t—well, that will only make it more of a challenge.”
“This isn’t a game, Drake.” Emmett’s tone bordered on harsh.
“Hell if it isn’t.” There was laughter in his friend’s voice, and despite himself, Nash smiled. Nothing wrong with kicking
a little Red Sword ass.
“All right then, we’re agreed. We’re going in.”
“We’ll watch your back,” Jason said.
“I don’t know…” Hannah started, only to be cut off by Tyler.
“No guts, no glory.”
“It’s not up for discussion,” Nash said, his tone brooking no argument. “We’re going in. But first we wait for the perimeter
guard to pass. If I’m marking it right, they should be showing up about now.” As if to underscore his words a jeep with two
armed men turned the corner onto the rutted road that ran in front of the compound. It continued as the guards drove in front
of the wall, slowing momentarily at the gate and then proceeding south. At the corner, the vehicle turned into the jungle,
presumably heading back toward the beach and the outer edge of the island.
“I’d say you’ve got about twenty minutes,” Jason confirmed.
“Should be more than enough time,” Drake said, swinging his utility pack over his shoulder as he rose to his feet.
“Assuming we don’t run into a welcome party,” Emmett muttered as he double-checked his gear. “Nothing like discovering a nest
of hostiles on site at the last fucking minute.”
“I heard that,” Hannah said.
“Sorry.” Emmett clearly wasn’t, but the apology seemed to placate Hannah.
“Let’s move out,” Nash said, signaling the others, falling in line with Tyler as they made their way down the hill.
“I hate to agree with Emmett, but it does seem like Hannah might have given us a heads-up a little sooner.”
“Maybe the satellite wasn’t in position. I don’t know. You know as well as I do that intel is an inexact science.” Nash shrugged.
“Point is that we know now. And with a little luck we’ll avoid an encounter altogether.”
“And if we happen to run into them?” Tyler asked.
“We’ve faced worse.”
“True enough,” she sighed. “It just seems like lately something always goes wrong.”
“Comes with the territory. Anyway, we’ll be fine. You’ll see.” Nash shifted his weapon to the other side and moved ahead,
the four of them falling into their former positions.
They managed to make their way down the incline without incident, emerging from the grass at the far southeast corner of the
enclosure. Two minutes later and they’d arrived at the fallen tree, the resulting gap in the vegetation opening the canopy
to the star-studded sky.
“The camera is definitely missing,” Drake said, pulling a climber’s rope from his pack. “Way to go, Hannah; you called it
right.”
“Hey, I aim to please.” Even long distance you could hear the smile in her voice.
“Anything on the other side we should know about?” Nash asked.
“Looks clear from here,” Jason responded. “But you’d better go quickly; I’ve got one of the front gate guards on the move.
About a hundred yards out. Heading your direction.”
“Okay, people. Let’s move,” Nash called, as Drake tossed the rope, and the grappling hook dug into the top of the wall with
a soft thunk. With a jaunty grin, Drake was up and over, Tyler following on his heels.
“You next, Emmett,” Nash said, turning slowly to survey the area, making sure they didn’t have additional company.
Emmett vaulted over the wall, and after waiting a beat, Nash turned and followed suit, straddling the barrier to remove the
rope and hook before jumping lightly to the muddy ground of the compound.
“Where’s the guard?” he barked into his earpiece.
“Moving the other way.” Despite the distance, Jason clearly sounded relieved. “For the moment you’re good to go.”
“Should we split up?” Tyler asked. “It might be more time-efficient.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Nash said, “but considering the number of hostiles present I think we’re better off sticking
together.”
Tyler nodded.
“I suggest we get a move on,” Drake urged, already heading in the direction of the tiny communications building.
The heat closed around them, the still air oppressive, drops of rain spattering the ground as they walked. Nash positioned
his silenced Sig Sauer, finger on the trigger. Better to be ready. The shrouded building loomed out of the mist, and they
stopped in the shadow of a large acacia tree.
“Drake, you and Tyler stand guard while Emmett and I deal with the computers. How much time will you need once we hit the
array?”
“Seven minutes tops.” Tyler shrugged.
“All right, we’ll be out in three.”
The building was dark and surprisingly cool. A narrow hallway ran from the door to the far end, flanking a large room full
of computers that was even colder than the hall.
“The computers can’t function in this humidity, so they’ve got to control the temperature,” Emmett explained, as he opened
a small bag at his waist.
Banks of computers lined the room on both sides, LED lights blinking off and on, giving the room a hazy green glow. Emmett
pulled out a pen drive the size of a lighter, and after a brief search opened a drawer with a keyboard and inserted the drive
in the CPU above it.
The computer’s gauges lit up, moving up and down as the machine downloaded the information on the drive. Designed to immobilize
not only the computers present but anything networked to the system, the virus Jason had created was geared to reach beyond
the compound itself into the very heart of Red Sword’s technical infrastructure.
“How’s the security?” Jason’s voice crackled into the earpiece.
“Can’t tell yet,” Emmett replied. “So far they haven’t even detected the fact that we’re in the system. You getting anything?”
The plan was for Jason to remotely detonate the virus seconds before Tyler blew the array, keeping outside interference to
a minimum. However, there was always the chance that Emmett’s download would trigger some kind of inner systemic security.
“Everything seems fine,” Jason replied.
“Five more seconds,” Emmett whispered to no one in particular.
Nash held his breath, waiting for the all-clear. In truth, he’d rather face a horde of Uzi-toting hostiles than a simple bank
of enemy computers. There were just so many variables, and nothing he could do to control them. Technology had its moments,
but push come to shove, he could live without it. Hell, he never even remembered to turn on his cell phone, a shortcoming
Tyler never failed to remind him of.
As if giving voice to his concern, the room was filled with an ominous beeping sound—some kind of alarm. “What the hell?”
“I don’t know,” Emmett said, typing furiously as the screen above him scrolled through various commands. “Jason, you got anything?”
“You tripped some kind of security,” Jason answered. “Maybe the firewall.”
“Well, that much I knew. But it’s not responding to the codes you gave me. Anything you can do from your end?”
“Hang on.”
Not exactly words to instill faith. Nash pulled his gun and turned to face the door. “You guys getting this?” he asked, speaking
into his headpiece.
“It’s all quiet out here,” Drake responded. “At least so far. Nothing’s moving.”
“Keep your eyes open.” The beeping increased in intensity, lights flashing now along the bank Emmett was working on. “Jason.
We could really use some help here.”
“I’m trying.” The sound of frantic typing filled both the room and Nash’s earpiece as both men worked to stop the alarm. Nash
tightened his hand on the Sig, almost wishing for an intruder—anything to break the tension.
Then suddenly the alarm stopped.
“Got it,” Emmett said, retrieving the hard drive before pushing the drawer with the keyboard closed. “Jason, you should have
control.”
“Hannah?” Jason asked.
“We’re in,” she confirmed. “Now you guys get the hell out of there.”
“With pleasure.” Still leading with the gun, Nash made his way out of the computer room, down the hallway, and out the front
door. Drake and Tyler were standing back to back watching the pathways for signs they’d been discovered.
“Looks like I’m up,” Tyler said as they ducked low, making their way across the open ground between the compound and the array.
The rain was coming down in earnest now, providing a gray cloak that helped to obscure their progress. Still, Nash kept himself
on hyper-alert. The alarm in the computer room had to have alerted someone. Which meant that sooner or later they were bound
to have company.
They reached the array in seconds, Tyler already pulling the prerigged plastique from her backpack. She knelt at the base
of the first dish and, using duct tape, carefully secured the explosive in place.
“Do we have to connect the three of them?” Drake asked, his attention fixed on the compound behind them.
“No.” Tyler shook her head as she moved to the second dish. “They’re wireless. I’ve got a detonator.”
“And if something happens to you?”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she said. “But worst case, Jason can trigger the charges remotely.”
Nash nodded. “How much more time?” Things were still quiet, but he had the distinct feeling the other shoe was about to drop.
“Just a couple of seconds. I need to arm them.” Using a tiny screwdriver, Tyler made an adjustment on the first device, the
small red pinprick of light on its face turning green. “One down. Any action out there?”
Clearly Tyler was having the same thoughts about impending intervention. She moved to the second device and in less than a
minute had it armed as well. But the third mechanism proved to be stubborn, the red light refusing to change to green.
Tyler let out a curse, just as a shot rang out.
“Company,” Drake called, returning fire. Emmett followed suit, the two of them moving between the gate to the array and Tyler,
who was still struggling with the third unit.
“Just leave it,” Nash said. “Better to get the hell out of here. We can blow the two you do have set.”
“It’s okay,” Tyler said. As the reticent light turned green. “I’ve got it. Let’s go.”
The four of them raced for the far wall behind the array, the shots moving closer but the gunmen still not in sight. Skidding
to a halt, Drake threw the grappling hook again and was up and over almost before it was embedded in the wall. Tyler and Emmett
followed suit while Nash kept the shooters at bay with return fire. Then after a last volley, he pulled himself over the wall,
hitting the ground on a roll.
Springing to his feet, he followed his friends as they sprinted for the cover of the jungle, quietly trying to raise someone
on his com piece. No one answered, and he wasn’t certain if the problem was his alone or if somehow the entire system was
down.
But there was no time to figure it out. Bullets exploded in the mud at his feet, and he dropped to a crouch, still moving,
veering back and forth to keep his path unpredictable. Ahead, he saw Emmett fall, but Drake was quick to pull him back to
his feet, the two of them moving in tandem. Tyler was just off to the right, almost to the cover of the trees.
All she needed was time to detonate.
Swerving back toward the road and the gunmen, Nash rolled to the ground again and came up firing, satisfied to see a burst
of blood as one of the gunmen hit the dirt. Two more shots and another man was dead.
Two down.
Knowing that he was still too close to the blast zone, he pulled to his feet just as the jeep rounded the corner, machine
guns blazing. Reaching into his flak jacket, he produced a grenade and, without slowing, lobbed it over his shoulder. Seconds
passed, but not enough time for the jeep to react, and the resulting explosion flipped the vehicle into a ditch.
Hitting the top of the ravine and the line of trees, he ran into the jungle, scanning the area for signs of Tyler.
“Here,” came her whisper, from the shelter of a clump of bamboo. “I’m here.”
“Did you lose com or is it just me?” Nash asked, dropping to his knees beside her.
“Whole system is down, which means no remote detonation. It’s got to be me.”
“How’s Emmett?” The shooting had subsided for a moment, but there was no doubt that it would resume as soon as the dust from
the grenade had cleared.
“He’s fine. Bullet to the groin. I don’t think it’s life-threatening, but there was a lot of blo. . .
So do you think we’re ever going to feel like a normal couple?” Annie asked as they stumbled back into their hotel room, Nash’s
hands cupping her breasts, his breath hot against her cheek.
“Trust me, angel, normal is overrated.” He pushed her back against the wall, his thumbs rubbing heated circles through the
soft silk of her halter top. “And anyway, I kind of like what we’ve got.”
“Right,” she sighed, shivering as he kissed her neck. “Sex on the run.”
“Well, it’s not like we have a lot of free time.” His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue sending fire lacing through her
belly. It was always like this. Combustible. Their desire heightened by the possibility that each time could be the last.
“Maybe we should adjourn to the bedroom?” She nodded toward the doorway of the suite, and then gasped as he pushed her skirt
up around her thighs.
“What’s wrong with right here? Right now?” He teased her with his fingers, the friction of satin against skin threatening
instant explosion. She lifted her hips, but he pulled back, his slow smile taunting her. “Unless of course you’ve changed
your mind?”
“Not on your life.” She reached up to unbutton his shirt, her fingers tracing the scars that laced his chest. Twisted mementos
of their life together. “Tell me what you want,” she whispered, her breathing labored.
“You, Annie. All I ever want is you.”
“So take me,” she taunted, anticipation coiling inside her, hot and heavy. Sometimes she thought maybe she wanted something
more. Something that resembled normalcy—commitment. But not now. Not in this moment. Right now all she wanted was Nash.
For a moment their passion stretched taut between them; and then, trembling with the sheer power of the feelings he evoked,
she arched her back, welcoming his hands and mouth as he crushed her against him. This was what she craved. What she wanted.
As long as she had Nash, she could endure anything.
Anything.
“The bed… I can’t… please.” She gasped the words as they stumbled backward, the need so intense now she thought she might
die of it.
His dark eyes reflecting her passion, Nash swung her up into his arms and in two strides they were through the door and on
the bed, the cool cotton sheets a counterpoint to the heat that pulsed between them.
Annie pressed against him, her eyes riveted for a moment on the mirror across from the bed and the image of their interlocked
bodies moving in tandem. Two shattered souls desperately seeking release. She sighed, and then froze as something else in
the mirror moved.
A shadow detached itself from the wall, and Annie dug her nails into Nash’s back, instinct and training overriding passion
in an instant. Nash’s muscles tightened in response, and moving with a precision gained from years of working together, they
sprang apart, a bullet smashing into the headboard between them. Annie rolled to the floor, reaching for the gun she kept
strapped to her thigh. In her ardent haste she hadn’t had time to remove her weapon.
But Nash had. He’d thrown his on the table as he’d carried her to bed.
Damn it all to hell.
From her vantage point beside the bed, she couldn’t see Nash or their assailant. Which meant she needed to move. Popping up
to fire a round in the direction of the shadow, she rolled out from the bed, diving for cover behind a chair as a bullet shattered
a lamp just above her head.
Nash was cornered between the bed and the wall, the bed giving protection, at least for the moment, but the gunman had the
advantage. He stood between them and the door, with a large wardrobe to his left blocking her from taking a clear shot.
“Well, isn’t this a pickle,” their assailant said, his accent a smooth blend of American and French. She should have known.
Adrian Benoit. They’d only just been in his apartment. Looked like he was returning the favor.
“Seems we’ve got ourselves a Mexican standoff,” he drawled.
“Except that none of us are Mexican,” Nash quipped. She could see him now reflected in the mirror. And when he smiled, she
realized he could see her as well. Which meant he had a plan.
“Doesn’t matter,” Benoit continued. “I’ve clearly got the advantage.”
“So what, you want us to come out with our hands up?” Nash queried, nodding almost imperceptibly toward his gun lying on the
table about five feet in front of her.
“It would certainly make things easier. But what I really want are the files you stole from my computer.”
“And then you’ll let us go? Right. And I’ve got some swampland…” Nash’s laugh was harsh as he tipped his head slightly, signaling
for her to stand ready. Annie nodded, already shifting her position.
“Well now, there wouldn’t be any fun in letting you live, would there?” Benoit responded, anger clouding his voice.
Annie drew a breath, rolled out from behind the chair, fired once, and then dove for the table, her hand closing around the
butt of Nash’s gun. “Two o’clock,” she yelled, as she chunked the weapon overhand toward Nash, still shooting in Benoit’s
direction in an attempt to provide some modicum of cover. Her ploy worked, Benoit turning to return fire as Nash emerged from
behind the bed in a flying leap, intercepting the gun as it tumbled through the air.
Two seconds later and it was over. Benoit lay dead in a pool of his own blood.
“Are you all right?” Nash asked, pushing to his feet.
“I’m fine,” she said as they met halfway, Nash’s arms closing around her.
“You sure?” He ran his hands down her now trembling body, double-checking to ascertain if she’d told him the truth.
“Really. He didn’t hurt me. You were the one without the gun.”
“Evened the odds.” He shrugged, his voice buoyed by adrenaline, his smile edged with a ruthlessness that had kept him alive
more times than she cared to remember. “So where were we?”
“I think that ship has sailed,” she said, her gaze falling on the body.
“I suppose you’re right,” Nash said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “We’ve got to get out of here before someone
starts asking questions. Benoit was using a silencer. But we weren’t.”
“I’ll start wiping things down.” She pulled away and reached for a pair of gloves, falling effortlessly into a pattern they’d
perfected over countless operations.
“So what was it you said earlier?” Nash called from across the room where he was packing their gear, his tone teasing, the
fact that they’d just survived death—again—already an afterthought. “Something about wondering if we’d ever be a normal couple?”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Annie smiled. She loved this man. With every ounce of her being. And the cold hard truth
was that she wouldn’t change a single thing about their life. “I think,” she said, reaching down to retrieve Benoit’s gun,
“that I just answered my own question.”
Island off the coast of Southeast Asia—eight years later
Get the boats under cover,” Nash Brennon said, keeping his voice low as he dragged one of the dinghies behind a pile of moss-covered
rocks. “We should have about five minutes until the perimeter guard make their way back here. Everyone know their assignment?”
It was a rhetorical question. Although sometimes personnel varied, for the most part A-Tac members had been working together
for years, and they’d certainly had operations far more difficult than this one. Only difference here was that their commander,
Avery Solomon, wasn’t present. The big man was in Washington. Some top brass bullshit. Which meant Nash was in charge.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t the experience. Trained in covert operations, he was an admitted adrenaline junkie. He’d started
his career as an operative in Europe—with Annie. But then after a particularly difficult mission she’d deserted him. Disappeared.
Almost as if she’d never existed.
He pushed the memories away. He’d moved on. To A-Tac. The CIA’s most elite black ops unit. Hell of a step up from European
operative. He didn’t need Annie. He didn’t need anyone. And right now he had a mission, and he couldn’t afford a fuckup.
“Can everyone hear me?” Emmett Walsh asked, his voice crackling as Nash’s earpiece sprang to life.
“Yeah, like a freakin’ bullhorn,” Drake Flynn said with a wince. The com system was new. Emmett’s design. And even though
the man was a genius when it came to playing connect the operatives, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be hiccups. “Can you
turn the damn thing down?”
“The controls are right here,” Tyler said, tapping her ear with a grin as she looked up from a backpack full of explosives.
Tyler was Nash’s second in command for the mission. An army-trained demolitions expert, she had yet to meet a building she
couldn’t destroy. And she’d saved their asses on more than one occasion, disarming incendiary devices most people would never
even know existed.
“I’m patching Jason through now,” Emmett said. Jason Lawton, along with Hannah Marshall, served as long-distance eyes and
ears for the team. Tonight that meant keeping watch over the operation from Sunderland in New York, which, at the moment,
seemed a hell of a long way away. But at least, thanks to a couple of strategically placed satellites, they had the benefit
of Jason and Hannah’s constant vigilance.
“You’ve got two more minutes,” Jason intoned, as usual cutting right to the chase. “I’m showing two hostiles—both armed and
ready to rumble.”
“Always good to have big brother watching.” Nash laughed, signaling the team to move out. “We’re heading east. Target ETA
ten minutes.”
The operation was simple in conception. Destroy a communications array and its accompanying computer systems. The property
of an Asian terrorist group known as the Red Sword, the array was used to coordinate organizational efforts within the region
as well as operations abroad. Taking it out would severely cripple if not completely destroy enemy operations.
Unfortunately, the island’s heavy jungle undergrowth impeded movement, rendering the straight line between points A and B
anything but. The moisture-laden air was heavy and oppressive, making every breath an effort. The team had fanned out, Nash
on point, Drake keeping back, making sure they weren’t being followed. Even with Jason and Hannah watching over them, Nash
didn’t like taking chances. And there was no one he’d rather have at his back than Drake Flynn.
A specialist in CIA extractions, Drake had been with the team just over a year. Rumor had it that before A-Tac he’d been with
one of the CIA’s D units. Operations even more off the books than A-Tac. Not that the man ever talked about any of it. Hell,
Drake didn’t talk seriously about much of anything. But he got the job done, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really
mattered.
Something rustled in the bushes next to him, and Nash signaled the others as he spun, gun ready. But it was only a bird, eyes
glowing red in the moonlight. Focusing again on the barely discernible trail, he moved forward, careful to keep Tyler flanking
him on the left. She nodded toward an opening in the trees, and together they moved forward, Emmett following a pace or so
behind on the right, with Drake still bringing up the rear.
The jungle opened out on cleared space below them. Tall grass mixed in with stands of bamboo and a few straggling trees led
up to a concrete wall enclosing four buildings. Off to the left, separated from the rest of the compound by about fifty yards,
sat the array. It was small—just three dishes—but Nash had learned long ago that small packages could be just as lethal as
larger ones, and the members of Red Sword weren’t prone to wasting time with empty platitudes. They were far more interested
in terrorizing innocents under the guise of some perverted cosmic justice.
Only not for much longer.
“What have we got?” Nash whispered as he dropped to his stomach, using infrared glasses to scan the area below. “Any surprises?”
“Everything looks pretty much as we expected,” Drake’s voice echoed in his ear. “You can see the surveillance camera mounted
above the wall near the entrance. And if our intel holds true there should be additional units every fifty feet or so.”
“With a blind corner to the southwest in the back, thanks to an uprooted jackfruit tree,” Emmett added.
“What about the array?” Nash frowned as he studied the compound. He’d seen satellite photos, and rendered maps, but there
was nothing to beat firsthand observation.
“Three sixteen-foot dishes on machined counterbalanced mounts,” Tyler said, her goggles trained on the array. “Should be easy
enough to destroy. I’ve just got to get close enough to rig the explosives.”
“Don’t worry, Nash and I will get you in,” Drake assured. “Piece of cake.”
“Maybe not so much so,” Jason said, his tone grim. “I’m showing at least eight hostiles inside the compound.”
“Son of a bitch. There were only supposed to be two.”
“Sorry,” Hannah Marshall said, her voice cracking in transmission as she took the com-link from Jason. “Looks like some kind
of an impromptu meeting. I’ve got three boats moored off the pier. No way we could have predicted this.”
“So what do we do now?” Jason asked, patching through another com-link. “Abort?”
“Depends on where this little meeting is taking place,” Nash said, sorting through the alternatives. “Can you verify location?”
“Yeah. Hang on,” Jason said, his voice moving away as he shuffled through something on the other end. “I’ve got five in the
building farthest north. And two more in the guardhouse at the entrance.”
“And the eighth?” Drake barked.
“Give me a minute. He’s moving.” Silence stretched, tension building. “Looks like he’s heading back to the north building.”
“Can you confirm the location of the communications computers?”
“Little building closest to the array,” Hannah said, her voice coming in on a whisper. “The one without windows.”
“I see it.” Nash nodded, even though she was thousands of miles away. “So if our hostiles will just stay put we ought to be
able to get in and out without notice.”
“And if they don’t—well, that will only make it more of a challenge.”
“This isn’t a game, Drake.” Emmett’s tone bordered on harsh.
“Hell if it isn’t.” There was laughter in his friend’s voice, and despite himself, Nash smiled. Nothing wrong with kicking
a little Red Sword ass.
“All right then, we’re agreed. We’re going in.”
“We’ll watch your back,” Jason said.
“I don’t know…” Hannah started, only to be cut off by Tyler.
“No guts, no glory.”
“It’s not up for discussion,” Nash said, his tone brooking no argument. “We’re going in. But first we wait for the perimeter
guard to pass. If I’m marking it right, they should be showing up about now.” As if to underscore his words a jeep with two
armed men turned the corner onto the rutted road that ran in front of the compound. It continued as the guards drove in front
of the wall, slowing momentarily at the gate and then proceeding south. At the corner, the vehicle turned into the jungle,
presumably heading back toward the beach and the outer edge of the island.
“I’d say you’ve got about twenty minutes,” Jason confirmed.
“Should be more than enough time,” Drake said, swinging his utility pack over his shoulder as he rose to his feet.
“Assuming we don’t run into a welcome party,” Emmett muttered as he double-checked his gear. “Nothing like discovering a nest
of hostiles on site at the last fucking minute.”
“I heard that,” Hannah said.
“Sorry.” Emmett clearly wasn’t, but the apology seemed to placate Hannah.
“Let’s move out,” Nash said, signaling the others, falling in line with Tyler as they made their way down the hill.
“I hate to agree with Emmett, but it does seem like Hannah might have given us a heads-up a little sooner.”
“Maybe the satellite wasn’t in position. I don’t know. You know as well as I do that intel is an inexact science.” Nash shrugged.
“Point is that we know now. And with a little luck we’ll avoid an encounter altogether.”
“And if we happen to run into them?” Tyler asked.
“We’ve faced worse.”
“True enough,” she sighed. “It just seems like lately something always goes wrong.”
“Comes with the territory. Anyway, we’ll be fine. You’ll see.” Nash shifted his weapon to the other side and moved ahead,
the four of them falling into their former positions.
They managed to make their way down the incline without incident, emerging from the grass at the far southeast corner of the
enclosure. Two minutes later and they’d arrived at the fallen tree, the resulting gap in the vegetation opening the canopy
to the star-studded sky.
“The camera is definitely missing,” Drake said, pulling a climber’s rope from his pack. “Way to go, Hannah; you called it
right.”
“Hey, I aim to please.” Even long distance you could hear the smile in her voice.
“Anything on the other side we should know about?” Nash asked.
“Looks clear from here,” Jason responded. “But you’d better go quickly; I’ve got one of the front gate guards on the move.
About a hundred yards out. Heading your direction.”
“Okay, people. Let’s move,” Nash called, as Drake tossed the rope, and the grappling hook dug into the top of the wall with
a soft thunk. With a jaunty grin, Drake was up and over, Tyler following on his heels.
“You next, Emmett,” Nash said, turning slowly to survey the area, making sure they didn’t have additional company.
Emmett vaulted over the wall, and after waiting a beat, Nash turned and followed suit, straddling the barrier to remove the
rope and hook before jumping lightly to the muddy ground of the compound.
“Where’s the guard?” he barked into his earpiece.
“Moving the other way.” Despite the distance, Jason clearly sounded relieved. “For the moment you’re good to go.”
“Should we split up?” Tyler asked. “It might be more time-efficient.”
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Nash said, “but considering the number of hostiles present I think we’re better off sticking
together.”
Tyler nodded.
“I suggest we get a move on,” Drake urged, already heading in the direction of the tiny communications building.
The heat closed around them, the still air oppressive, drops of rain spattering the ground as they walked. Nash positioned
his silenced Sig Sauer, finger on the trigger. Better to be ready. The shrouded building loomed out of the mist, and they
stopped in the shadow of a large acacia tree.
“Drake, you and Tyler stand guard while Emmett and I deal with the computers. How much time will you need once we hit the
array?”
“Seven minutes tops.” Tyler shrugged.
“All right, we’ll be out in three.”
The building was dark and surprisingly cool. A narrow hallway ran from the door to the far end, flanking a large room full
of computers that was even colder than the hall.
“The computers can’t function in this humidity, so they’ve got to control the temperature,” Emmett explained, as he opened
a small bag at his waist.
Banks of computers lined the room on both sides, LED lights blinking off and on, giving the room a hazy green glow. Emmett
pulled out a pen drive the size of a lighter, and after a brief search opened a drawer with a keyboard and inserted the drive
in the CPU above it.
The computer’s gauges lit up, moving up and down as the machine downloaded the information on the drive. Designed to immobilize
not only the computers present but anything networked to the system, the virus Jason had created was geared to reach beyond
the compound itself into the very heart of Red Sword’s technical infrastructure.
“How’s the security?” Jason’s voice crackled into the earpiece.
“Can’t tell yet,” Emmett replied. “So far they haven’t even detected the fact that we’re in the system. You getting anything?”
The plan was for Jason to remotely detonate the virus seconds before Tyler blew the array, keeping outside interference to
a minimum. However, there was always the chance that Emmett’s download would trigger some kind of inner systemic security.
“Everything seems fine,” Jason replied.
“Five more seconds,” Emmett whispered to no one in particular.
Nash held his breath, waiting for the all-clear. In truth, he’d rather face a horde of Uzi-toting hostiles than a simple bank
of enemy computers. There were just so many variables, and nothing he could do to control them. Technology had its moments,
but push come to shove, he could live without it. Hell, he never even remembered to turn on his cell phone, a shortcoming
Tyler never failed to remind him of.
As if giving voice to his concern, the room was filled with an ominous beeping sound—some kind of alarm. “What the hell?”
“I don’t know,” Emmett said, typing furiously as the screen above him scrolled through various commands. “Jason, you got anything?”
“You tripped some kind of security,” Jason answered. “Maybe the firewall.”
“Well, that much I knew. But it’s not responding to the codes you gave me. Anything you can do from your end?”
“Hang on.”
Not exactly words to instill faith. Nash pulled his gun and turned to face the door. “You guys getting this?” he asked, speaking
into his headpiece.
“It’s all quiet out here,” Drake responded. “At least so far. Nothing’s moving.”
“Keep your eyes open.” The beeping increased in intensity, lights flashing now along the bank Emmett was working on. “Jason.
We could really use some help here.”
“I’m trying.” The sound of frantic typing filled both the room and Nash’s earpiece as both men worked to stop the alarm. Nash
tightened his hand on the Sig, almost wishing for an intruder—anything to break the tension.
Then suddenly the alarm stopped.
“Got it,” Emmett said, retrieving the hard drive before pushing the drawer with the keyboard closed. “Jason, you should have
control.”
“Hannah?” Jason asked.
“We’re in,” she confirmed. “Now you guys get the hell out of there.”
“With pleasure.” Still leading with the gun, Nash made his way out of the computer room, down the hallway, and out the front
door. Drake and Tyler were standing back to back watching the pathways for signs they’d been discovered.
“Looks like I’m up,” Tyler said as they ducked low, making their way across the open ground between the compound and the array.
The rain was coming down in earnest now, providing a gray cloak that helped to obscure their progress. Still, Nash kept himself
on hyper-alert. The alarm in the computer room had to have alerted someone. Which meant that sooner or later they were bound
to have company.
They reached the array in seconds, Tyler already pulling the prerigged plastique from her backpack. She knelt at the base
of the first dish and, using duct tape, carefully secured the explosive in place.
“Do we have to connect the three of them?” Drake asked, his attention fixed on the compound behind them.
“No.” Tyler shook her head as she moved to the second dish. “They’re wireless. I’ve got a detonator.”
“And if something happens to you?”
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” she said. “But worst case, Jason can trigger the charges remotely.”
Nash nodded. “How much more time?” Things were still quiet, but he had the distinct feeling the other shoe was about to drop.
“Just a couple of seconds. I need to arm them.” Using a tiny screwdriver, Tyler made an adjustment on the first device, the
small red pinprick of light on its face turning green. “One down. Any action out there?”
Clearly Tyler was having the same thoughts about impending intervention. She moved to the second device and in less than a
minute had it armed as well. But the third mechanism proved to be stubborn, the red light refusing to change to green.
Tyler let out a curse, just as a shot rang out.
“Company,” Drake called, returning fire. Emmett followed suit, the two of them moving between the gate to the array and Tyler,
who was still struggling with the third unit.
“Just leave it,” Nash said. “Better to get the hell out of here. We can blow the two you do have set.”
“It’s okay,” Tyler said. As the reticent light turned green. “I’ve got it. Let’s go.”
The four of them raced for the far wall behind the array, the shots moving closer but the gunmen still not in sight. Skidding
to a halt, Drake threw the grappling hook again and was up and over almost before it was embedded in the wall. Tyler and Emmett
followed suit while Nash kept the shooters at bay with return fire. Then after a last volley, he pulled himself over the wall,
hitting the ground on a roll.
Springing to his feet, he followed his friends as they sprinted for the cover of the jungle, quietly trying to raise someone
on his com piece. No one answered, and he wasn’t certain if the problem was his alone or if somehow the entire system was
down.
But there was no time to figure it out. Bullets exploded in the mud at his feet, and he dropped to a crouch, still moving,
veering back and forth to keep his path unpredictable. Ahead, he saw Emmett fall, but Drake was quick to pull him back to
his feet, the two of them moving in tandem. Tyler was just off to the right, almost to the cover of the trees.
All she needed was time to detonate.
Swerving back toward the road and the gunmen, Nash rolled to the ground again and came up firing, satisfied to see a burst
of blood as one of the gunmen hit the dirt. Two more shots and another man was dead.
Two down.
Knowing that he was still too close to the blast zone, he pulled to his feet just as the jeep rounded the corner, machine
guns blazing. Reaching into his flak jacket, he produced a grenade and, without slowing, lobbed it over his shoulder. Seconds
passed, but not enough time for the jeep to react, and the resulting explosion flipped the vehicle into a ditch.
Hitting the top of the ravine and the line of trees, he ran into the jungle, scanning the area for signs of Tyler.
“Here,” came her whisper, from the shelter of a clump of bamboo. “I’m here.”
“Did you lose com or is it just me?” Nash asked, dropping to his knees beside her.
“Whole system is down, which means no remote detonation. It’s got to be me.”
“How’s Emmett?” The shooting had subsided for a moment, but there was no doubt that it would resume as soon as the dust from
the grenade had cleared.
“He’s fine. Bullet to the groin. I don’t think it’s life-threatening, but there was a lot of blo. . .
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