Dec never pried. He offered jobs to the former soldiers who wanted to work—ones where they normally wouldn’t get shot at while doing them—and he didn’t ask them to reveal all their demons.
Some demons could never be vanquished. He felt his gut tighten. Dec had accepted that long ago.
“Got in last night. Nice to be home.” But even as he said the words, Dec knew it wasn’t true. He was already feeling the itch to be out, moving, doing something.
It had been two and a half years since he’d left the Navy and stopped heading into the world’s worst war zones. Hell, he didn’t leave—they’d booted him out. He’d just barely avoided a dishonorable discharge, but they’d wanted him gone anyway, and he didn’t blame them.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. In those two and a half years, he’d put together Treasure Hunter Security with his brother and sister, and he’d never looked back. Or at least, he tried not to.
Hale was one of their newest recruits and had fit right in.
Dec made his way to the kitchenette and poured a cup of coffee from the pot. Darcy would have made it, which meant it was barely drinkable, but it was black and strong and had caffeine, so it ticked the boxes.
He saw his best friend slouched on one of the couches, his boots on the scarred coffee table and his long legs cased in well-worn jeans. He was flicking a switchblade open and closed.
“Logan.”
“Dec.”
Logan O’Connor was another SEAL buddy, and the best friend Dec had ever had. They hadn’t liked each other at first, but after a particularly brutal mission—followed by an equally brutal bar fight in the seedy backstreets of Bangkok where they had saved each other’s backs—they’d formed a bond.
Logan was big as well, the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt showing off his muscled arms and tattoos. From the day they’d left the military, Logan had let his brown hair grow long and shaggy, and his cheeks were covered in scruff. He looked exactly how he was—dangerous and just a little wild.
His friend eyed Dec up and down, then raised a brow. “How was the job?”
“The usual.”
Actually, the jobs were never the same, and you were never sure what was going to happen. Providing security to archeological digs, retrieving stolen artifacts, occasionally turning some bad guys over to the authorities, doing museum security, or running remote expeditions for crazy treasure hunters…it kept things interesting.
“Anyone shoot at you?”
The female voice came from over by the computers. Morgan Kincaid sat cross-legged on top of a table. She was one of the few females to pass the rigorous BUD/S training for the Navy SEALs. But when the Navy had refused to let her serve on the teams, she’d left.
The Navy’s loss was Dec’s gain. Morgan was tough, mean, and hell in a firefight. She was tall, kept her dark hair short, and had a scar down the left side of her face from a knife fight.
“Not this trip,” Dec answered.
“Too bad,” Morgan murmured.
“All right everyone, listen up.” Darcy’s voice echoed in the warehouse.
They all headed over to where Darcy stood in front of her screens. Logan and Hale dropped into chairs, Morgan stayed sitting on top of the table, and Dec pressed a hip to a desk and sipped his coffee.
“Where’s Cal?” he asked.
“He flew out a few days ago on another job. An anthropologist got snatched by a local tribe in Brazil.”
“Hate the jungle,” Logan said, his voice a growl.
“And Ronin?” Dec asked.
Ronin Cooper was another full-time Treasure Hunter Security employee. Dec kept a small full-time team and hired on trusted contractors when he needed more muscle.
“Coop’s in northern Canada on an expedition.”
Dec raised his brows, trying to imagine Ronin in the snow.
Hale hooted with laughter. “Shit, not too many shadows to hide in when you’re in the snow.”
Dec sipped his coffee again. Ronin Cooper was good at blending into the shadows. You didn’t see him coming unless he wanted you to. Another former SEAL, Ronin had gotten out earlier than Dec, and had done some work for the CIA. Lean and intense, Ronin was the scary danger no one saw coming.
Dec settled back against the desk. “What’s this new job?”
“An archeological dig in Egypt got attacked yesterday.” Darcy pointed a small remote at her screens. A map of Egypt appeared with a red dot out in the Western Desert. “It’s being run by the Rhodes University out of Massachusetts.”
Dec raised a brow. Rhodes had a hell of an archeological department. They had their fingers in digs all over the world and prided themselves on some of the biggest finds in recent times. Every kid with dreams of being the next Indiana Jones wanted to study at Rhodes.
“The dig is excavating a newly-discovered tomb and surrounding necropolis,” Darcy continued. “They’d recently found some artifacts.” She pointed again and some images of artifacts appeared. “All gold.”
Hale whistled. “Nice.”
Dec’s muscles tensed. He knew what was coming.
“And now the artifacts are gone.” Darcy leaned back on the desk. “The head of the dig was working on the artifacts at the time and was attacked. She survived. And now, we’re hired. One, to ensure no more artifacts are stolen, two to ensure the safety of the dig’s workers, and three—” Darcy’s blue-gray gaze met Dec’s “—to recover the stolen artifacts.”
Dec felt a muscle tick in his jaw. “It’s Anders.”
“Ah, hell.” Logan tipped his head back. “This is not good.”
Hale was frowning. “Who’s Anders?”
“Dec has a hard-on for the guy,” Morgan muttered.
Dec ignored Logan and Morgan. “Ian Anders. A former British Special Air Service soldier.”
Hale’s frown deepened. “Heard those SAS guys are hard-core.”
“They are,” Dec confirmed.
Darcy stepped forward. “Declan and Logan’s SEAL team was working a joint mission with Anders’ team in the Middle East.”
“Caught the sadistic fucker torturing locals.” Even now, the screams and moans of those people came back to Dec. A nightmare he couldn’t seem to outrun. “He kept them hidden, visited them every few days. Men, women…children.” Dec let out a breath. “No idea how long he’d had them there.”
“You saved them?” Hale said.
“No.” Dec stood and took his mug to the sink. He tipped the coffee he could no longer stomach down the drain.
“You did the right thing, Dec,” Logan growled.
Silence fell. Dec was not going to talk about this.
Darcy cleared her throat. “The British Military gave Anders a slap on the wrist.”
“Shit,” Hale said. “So what’s he got to do with stolen artifacts?”
“When he left the SAS, he got into black-market antiquities,” Declan said. “We’ve run into him a few times on jobs.”
“The guy is whacked,” Logan added. “He likes to hurt and kill. And he likes the pretty cash he gets for selling artifacts.”
“And you think this is his work?” Hale looked at the screens.
Dec had learned to trust his gut. Sometimes despite the facts or evidence, despite the fact you had nothing else to go on. “Yeah, it’s Anders.”
“Logan, Morgan, and Hale, this is your assignment,” Darcy said. “You’ll head to Egypt to meet Dr. Layne Rush.”
Another screen filled with a photo of a woman.
Dec blinked, feeling his belly clench, even though he’d never seen this woman before.
He wasn’t even sure what warranted the gut-deep response. She was attractive, but not the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. In the photo, she had sunglasses pushed up on her dark hair. Her hair was chocolate brown and straight as a ruler. It brushed her shoulders, except for the bangs cut bluntly just across her eyes. Her skin was so incredibly clear, not a blemish on it, and her eyes were hazel.
Sh
e had smart stamped all over her. Hell. Dec had a thing for smart women.
But he usually steered well clear. He wasn’t made for hearts and rainbows. He’d just seen too much and done too much. His relationships generally lasted one night, and he enjoyed women who wanted the same as him—uncomplicated, no-strings sex.
“I’m going.” Dec’s voice echoed in the warehouse.
Darcy’s beautiful face got a pinched look. “Declan—”
“No arguments, Darce. I’m going.”
“You’re going because of Anders,” she said.
Dec glanced at the photo of Dr. Rush. “I’m going to pack.”
His sister sighed and looked at Dec. “You’re sure you won’t change your mind.”
“Nope.”
Another sigh. “The jet’s fueled and waiting. Logan, please keep him out of trouble.”
Logan snorted. “I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
Darcy shook her head. “All of you, have a good trip…and stay safe. Please.”
Dec smiled, trying to break the tension. “You know me.”
A resigned look crossed her face. “Yes. Unfortunately, I do. So when the trouble hits, call me.”
Treasure Hunter Security
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I’m a USA Today bestselling romance author who’s passionate about fast-paced, emotion-filled contemporary and science fiction romance. I love writing about people overcoming unbeatable odds and achieving seemingly impossible goals. I like to believe it’s possible for all of us to do the same.
I live in Australia with my own personal hero and two very busy, always-on-the-move sons.
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Mission: Her Shield: Team 52 #7 Page 17