Taking It Slow (Code of Honor Book 4)

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Taking It Slow (Code of Honor Book 4) Page 1

by Reese Knightley




  Taking It Slow

  (Code of Honor Book Four)

  Copyright © 2020 Reese Knightley

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Warnings

  Please be advised that this book is intended for adult readers aged eighteen and older due to sexually explicit content, language, and violence. Trigger warning: violence, abuse.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to the actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Crumpet, Washington is a fictional place. This is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover image (c) 2020 Michael Stokes michaelstokes.net

  Cover model Aron Abikzer in fatigues.

  Cover Art: Reese Dante reesedante.com

  Disclaimer—Cover content is for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted on the cover is a model.

  Editing provided by Heidi Ryan of Amour the Line Editing

  Interior Design and Formatting provided by

  Stacey Ryan Blake of Champagne Book Design—

  www.champagnebookdesign.com

  Copyright and Trademark Acknowledgments

  The author acknowledges the following copyright and trademark owners in this work of fiction. Prime—Amazon.com, Top Ramen—Nissin Foods, Netflix, Inc., A&W Root beer -Keurig Dr. Pepper (United States, Worldwide); A&W Canada, The Coca-Cola Company (Canada), Dumb and Dumber, Universal Pictures, Ace Ventura: Pet Detective, Warner Brothers., Liar Liar, Imagine Entertainment, Underworld, Screen Gems, Inc., Ford Motor Company, Coke, The Coca-Cola Company, Tylenol, Madden NFL 20, Electronic Arts, Nintendo, Nintendo Com., 2020 GMC Sierra Denali, GMC®

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  TITLE PAGE

  COPYRIGHT

  EPIGRAPH

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  EPILOGUE

  SNEAK PEAK of HUNTED (Pacific Northwest Shifters book 1)

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  OTHER BOOKS BY REESE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Infinity—A US Army Special Forces, Black Ops, top secret military unit that provides help, domestic and foreign, and answers only to the Secretary of Defense.

  What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal.—Albert Pike

  Spencer

  “Spence! Hold your position.”

  Fuck that!

  He heard the order, but no way in hell was he stopping. The order sure as shit wasn’t from his commander, and more importantly, he didn’t fucking want to stop, not when he was this close.

  The place was dark, but with his infrared goggles, he could see well enough to pick out the perps ahead of him. The green glow of the room showed that a previous fire had pretty much demolished the first floor of the building.

  Darting across the warehouse toward a far hallway, several suspects opened fire. Spencer returned fire, dropping one perp, hitting him in the head. The guy crumpled to the ground just as Spencer barreled past the now dead body. Gunfire echoed, light flashed, and several bullets careened into the wall near his head. Another perp lunged out and charged at him.

  Spencer ran full out and dropped to his knees in a forward slide that propelled him toward the guy. The perp shot wildly and leaped over him. Spencer spun, landed on his back, and put a bullet in the guy’s neck, the blood spurting across the floor.

  He didn’t wait for the guy to topple to the ground. Rolling, he lunged up and ducked into the hallway that led to the second-floor stairwell.

  Entering the stairwell, he took it upward on silent feet. Reaching the landing, he eased open the door and surveyed the room. A shot rang out and wood chips and stucco flew near his head. He dove for cover.

  With a grimace, he swung his arm around the corner and fired his silencer fitted weapon three times before leaping into the darkened room and behind a metal desk. A scuffle from midway into the room reached his ears, and then silence.

  Crouching there in the dark, he let his heartbeat settle for a few moments before he moved. The next suspect he came across lay prone on the ground. He placed his fingers to the perp’s bloodied throat, but there was no pulse.

  Moving again, he ran hunkered over through the darkness and squatted next to another set of sprawled, dead bodies. Both suspects had knife wounds, precise slits across each one’s throat. Link’s handiwork.

  “Spence, where the fuck are you?” Eagle growled into his ear by way of the small, invisible mic.

  “Three dead on the second level,” he said as he finally broke his silence. “I’m headed to the south stairwell to the third floor.”

  “Fucker, I was just there,” Link snarled into the mic.

  “So I see,” Spencer muttered, staring at the array of dead bodies.

  Something crunched on the floor behind him and he spun, jerking his arm up to deflect the two by four swinging for his head. His arm rang numbly and his weapon dropped to the floor near his feet. The wood was swung again and Spencer closed his fist around it and yanked, but there was no fucking give at all. The man holding the two by four was the size of a behemoth.

  Great, just once he’d like Link to take out the biggest guy in the room instead of as many perps as possible. They wrestled with the piece of wood until it toppled to the floor. He kicked his leg upward trying to hit the guy in the balls, but a massive thigh deflected his attempt. Hands reached for his throat and Spencer brought his arms up, knocking the man’s hands away.

  “Spence?”

  “What?” he snapped with a grunt when his back hit the wall. Instead of asking him questions, the fucker could have made his way up and helped him.

  “I’m coming your way,” Link warned.

  Spencer snorted and finally got his shot and kneed his attacker in the junk.

  “Better watch your ass,” Link warned. Spencer didn’t snort that time. Link was lethal, a military mercenary that handled some of the worse assignments they came across. Things that involved such heinous crimes it would leave an ordinary person psychologically damaged. Eve
n so, Link wasn’t as menacing as Eagle. Eagle was known to toy with his perps before sending them to a slow, agonizing death.

  When his attacker groaned and cupped his balls, Spencer moved in. He gut punched the fucker and when the perp doubled over, he brought his knee up beneath the big man’s chin, knocking the behemoth back. The guy crumbled to the ground on his back.

  Spencer snatched up his weapon, tired of the fucking games. He bent over the guy and pointed the barrel right between the man’s eyes.

  “You can die right here, right now, or you can roll over and put your hands behind your back.”

  The man blinked up at him and slowly turned over. The guy was too big for one zip-tie, so he used three to cuff his wrists. Good enough.

  Using the edge of his shirt, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and surveyed the room before he made any move to track his team.

  They were a three-man unit known as Fury. Three elite soldiers working for the government of the United States. Fury got the job done in places that a bigger unit, such as Infinity or Phoenix, would bring too much attention.

  Spencer had joined Fury shortly after Christmas when a high-ranking military official had approached him and asked if he was interested in filling a vacant spot in an elite three-man unit.

  He’d grown up fighting for everything. It wasn’t his thing to work with bigger teams, so hell yeah, he’d said yes.

  When he’d been briefed about the job, he’d immediately accepted. Anything to take his mind off Liam Cobalt and his offer to join Infinity. No way in hell did he want to be that close to the colonel.

  “I’m on my way to you both,” Eagle warned.

  Spencer made his way around a few torn down cubicles and paused, assessing the darkened room.

  If this job had been a bit less high profile, Infinity would have been asked to step in. As it was, this mission was so far beneath the radar, if Fury were caught, the military would deny they ordered the op.

  Fury handled criminals too traitorous to list on the FBI’s most wanted list. These were criminals that attacked agents in retaliation. The sonofabitches would kill family members, gut babies, and skin the agent alive. And the fuckers had done just that to FBI agent Robert Frankfurt, his wife, and their newborn baby girl.

  Agent Frankfurt had gone undercover and had infiltrated Fredrick Bowman’s criminal organization. They were still trying to figure shit out, but regardless of how it had happened, Robert’s cover had been blown and his family brutally murdered.

  Retired Brigadier General Luke Rhine had called Fury’s commander in the dead of night. When a General of the United States called, retired or not, you fucking snapped the fuck up.

  It seemed that FBI agent Robert Frankfurt had been a close personal friend to the General; they’d grown up together.

  The orders: Find Freddie before the cops did and make sure he never took another breath.

  After weeks of tracking the scumbag, the bastard had holed up in an abandoned warehouse near Vermilion Bay, Louisiana. The surrounding area was eerily quiet, and no law enforcement was coming to save Fredrick Bowman. They weren’t putting Freddie in the system.

  Darting from where he stood, he reached the end of the room. Spencer was completely camouflaged in black, so he didn’t worry about being seen. His weapon with a suppressor attached was kept close to his body. No worse for wear from its topple to the floor. Through his infrared goggles, he surveyed the room.

  Faint whimpers caused him to squint and he saw people huddled in corners and beneath tables. Some sat with wide eyes, hands pressed over mouths, tears staining their cheeks. So much for the warehouse being deserted.

  The florescent light flipped on and flickered overhead, bringing his head snapping around.

  Across the room stood Fredrick Bowman with a hostage in his grip.

  They had finally cornered good ole Freddie.

  “I’ll kill her! I swear to fucking god. She’s dead if you don’t back up,” Freddie screamed at him.

  Leveling his piece at Freddie, Spencer stood his ground.

  Eagle suddenly appeared so fucking stealthily, he resembled a ghost. Link came up the stairs like a shadow.

  “What, dirtbag? You gotta hide behind a hostage? You punk ass bitch,” Spencer snarled, edging closer, his weapon aimed at the guy’s head, making sure he was the center of Freddie’s attention.

  Freddie jerked his weapon up, the barrel aimed at him and away from the hostage.

  “Hey, idiot!” Eagle yelled, taking Freddie’s attention from him.

  The weapon swung around and Freddie fired. Eagle grunted and fell back against the wall. Spencer’s heart slammed against his rib cage and he felt a jolt of suspended disbelief as Eagle slid to the floor. The girl screamed and Freddie hid behind her head with a fist to her hair.

  He clenched his teeth, trying to get a clear shot.

  Link lunged forward and caught the perp by surprise. Grabbing Freddie by the hair, Link swung him around by his head and then sliced his throat open. Blood sprayed the hostage, who started screaming. When she stumbled, Spencer caught the sobbing woman.

  Freddie crumbled to the ground in a pool of spurting blood.

  “No, you don’t.” Link dropped to his knees next to Eagle, yanking open his shirt, feeling around the bulletproof vest.

  Eagle coughed and groaned. “Aw…didn’t know you cared,” Eagle gasped and coughed again.

  “You fucker!” Link snarled.

  Eagle glared and shoved Link back. “Fuck you too.”

  “I had him,” Link hissed, yanking Eagle to his feet.

  Eagle had a smidge more weight and used his bigger size to slam Link back against the wall before crowding in close with a glare. “We work as a team or you can hit the fucking door.”

  A muscle ticked in Link’s jaw. “Kiss my ass.” Rage made Link’s voice sound hoarse. The soldier shoved Eagle away and headed across the room.

  “Come on, Link,” Eagle yelled. “Don’t leave.”

  Link flipped Eagle off before he disappeared.

  “Let’s go,” Spencer said, guiding the woman out of the room. It hadn’t been the first blow up between them and it wouldn’t be the last. Link and Eagle were like oil and water.

  They called for help and took turns assisting people out of the building before EMS could arrive. The woman had grabbed his hand with a whisper of thanks. He’d pressed her fingers tightly.

  There was a shitload of drugs inside the warehouse. It looked like Freddie Bowman had moved up in his brother’s organization. There’d be hell to pay when Rocco Bowman found out his little brother was dead and his merchandise confiscated. Spencer couldn’t wait. Freddie may have pulled the trigger that killed FBI agent Robert Frankfurt, but Rocco had ordered the hit. Nothing happened in the organization without Rocco knowing about it.

  When the EMS arrived on the scene, Fury melted into the darkness. They needn’t have worried about being identified. With their heads and faces covered, none of the victims could identify them.

  He and Eagle made it to the airport early the next morning.

  Easing into the airplane seat, Eagle grimaced.

  “How are the ribs?”

  “I’m fine,” the soldier said gruffly.

  Spencer snapped his belt and set his head back.

  “You think I was out of line with Link?” Eagle glanced at him.

  “I’m not one to talk.” Spencer shrugged, glancing over.

  “You’re right, you’re not. Why the fuck didn’t you wait for Link and me?”

  “Wait? Link’s ass was already up there, and since when the fuck do I answer to you?” He squinted at Eagle.

  “You don’t, asshat.” Eagle gave a heavy sigh. “It’s a good god damned thing we’ve got a break. You both are fucking nuts. Both have a god damned death wish.”

  Spencer grunted and tucked his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. He got the job done, and that was what mattered.

  In the end, the job was the only thing t
hat mattered.

  He rubbed at his forehead. Okay, not the only thing, but one of the two things that meant the most in the world to him.

  Liam

  Where the hell was he?

  Liam scoured the crowd, but there was no trace of Spencer. His contact said Spencer would be there, but maybe he was running late.

  The military function was in full swing at the Cobalt high-rise hotel located in downtown San Francisco. The military had reserved it to celebrate Major General Wilson’s retirement, along with all the fanfare. People came from around the United States, Governors and congressmen, high ranking military and government officials, plus Secret Service when the President had come and gone.

  Yet, still no Spencer.

  Liam tossed back another drink and gave the flirtatious soldier, subbing as a bartender, a slight smile. Not returning the come on at all. He kept his private life private and never got involved with anyone he worked with nor anyone in the military.

  What about Spencer?

  Well, that had never evolved into a full-fledged fling. He and Spencer had been casual friends for going on two years before he’d made the stupid mistake of thinking they could be more. God, he’d wanted them to be more. He’d been willing to give up everything for Spencer, but his affection was not returned. Now, all Liam could do was try and salvage their friendship.

  “Liam,” a warm voice said and he turned and took the outstretched hand of his good friend, retired General Luke Rhine.

  “Luke,” he said, using the man’s first name since it was just the two of them at the moment.

  “I’m sorry to hear about Robert,” Liam said solemnly. He’d never gotten a chance to give his condolences of Luke’s FBI friend killed undercover.

  “Thank you.” Luke tipped his head and his brown hair slipped forward; he lifted a hand to brush it back.

  “It’s strange seeing you with hair,” he teased.

  Luke gave a bark of laughter and his eyes lightened as if grateful for the change in conversation.

  In the next moment, they were interrupted by Maddox, River, and Blade.

 

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