Securing Willow (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Guardian Elite Book 5)

by KaLyn Cooper

  And handsome.

  Willow shocked herself at that revelation. Maybe it was because these men were close to her age and everyone else working at the embassy was at least ten years older. Well, except for the Marine guards and they were all too young. At twenty-nine, she wasn’t ready to start playing the role of cougar. She missed going out with her friends, having drinks and dancing just for fun. She also missed sex. But with everything going on in Venezuela, the former president no longer recognized by the United States government, she had been too busy with her job to think about men.

  But, as she sized up the two in front of her, she had to admit, her dry spell from overwork could be coming to an end. Perhaps with the new ambassador on board, her constant presence might not be needed, finally giving her some much needed downtime. But none that could happen until she actually met her new boss.

  Two armed-to-the-teeth guards were not going to stand in her way of meeting Ambassador Mark Snyder. She strode up to them the same way she would approach anyone new at the embassy.

  She pasted on her PR smile and extended her hand. “Good afternoon, gentlemen, I’m Willow Cardenas. Welcome to the U.S. Embassy in Venezuela. I am the Public Diplomacy Officer.”

  The men ignored her outstretched hand. One moved his hand to his side, very close to his holstered pistol.

  Okay, time for a new approach.

  Her smile widened and became real as she reached for a point of connection. “I went through public affairs training at Fort Meade with several naval officers.”

  She looked at the insignias embroidered on their green camouflage uniforms. Oops. These men were enlisted, and she had just made references to officers. They had been taught at PAO school that there is often an animosity between enlisted and officers. Well, she’d fucked that up.

  Lowering her hand to her side, she took a step back and tried to make eye contact. At five feet, four-inches, she had to back up a second step.

  These two men could be mirror images. They were about six feet tall, brown hair, brown eyes. They were also both right-handed since they wore their guns on that side. Both had also seen action, since their boots were well-worn, but spit and polish enough to represent the United States of America in the embassy.

  “Okay, gentlemen, we are going to try this again. I have an appointment with Ambassador Snyder.” She made a point of looking at her watch. “Damn.” She swore under her breath, but quickly recouped and looked up at the guards. “I’m already two minutes late, and you guys are making me even more late. I’m going to make a terrible first impression with my new boss. Do you think you can just move aside so I can knock on the door?”

  The man on the right fought a smile.

  “No, ma’am.” The one on the left spoke in such a deep voice, she swore she felt the words vibrate inside her chest.

  Wonderful. It speaks. Now, maybe she was getting somewhere. “No, you can’t move aside, or, no, I can’t knock on the door?”

  “No.” The man repeated but said nothing else.

  Willow rolled her hand in the keep going gesture.

  Silence.

  “Okay, so which is it?” Then with exaggerated facial expressions, she said, “Aha, I now understand. I got both of those assumptions wrong so you will move aside, and I can knock on the door.” She was an expert at doublespeak.

  “No, ma’am.” There was a slight tilt to his head when the man on the left spoke that time.

  “Cut her a break, Gumby.” The man on the right smiled. “She’s obviously worried…and cute.”

  Gumby? What the hell kind of name was Gumby? She was about to ask when it hit her. Cute? There was nothing cute about her. She was a serious, hard-nosed foreign service officer. She had faced down some of the toughest reporters from the BBC, CNN, Headline News, MSNBC, and all the major U.S. networks. Oh, no. She was not going to take that.

  Her sensible two-inch heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked up within a foot of the man on the left. “Look, soldier, you seem—”

  “Ma’am, I’m not a soldier. I’m a sailor.”

  “What?” Willow had a perfectly logical argument prepared before the guard interrupted her.

  “Sailors. We’re not soldiers.” Gumby, the one on the left clarified. “We’re in the Navy, not the Army.”

  “Fine.” Willow personally didn’t care what service they were in…they were in her way. “Gumby, is Ambassador Snyder in his office?”

  The two men exchanged a glance. The man on the right said, “Kind of,” at the same time Gumby said, “Sort of.”

  “The ambassador is…” Gumby trailed off as he looked hopefully toward the man next to him.

  “Tied up,” the second sailor suggested.

  No. Willow did not hear him correctly. “You tied up the ambassador? Are we talking about you restraining Ambassador Charles Vance? I thought he was gone. They told me he was sent back home.” Her mind scrambled to put together the pieces. The idea that Ambassador Vance might still be inside the embassy scared the shit out of her.

  She’d get to the bottom of this. What a mess. Another pile of shit she’d have to clean up.

  “Ma’am, tied up was a poor choice of words.” Gumby glared at the other guard. “The flight didn’t agree with him, but Ambassador Snyder was extremely pleased to discover a personal restroom attached to his new office.” He looked very pleased with the explanation.

  “So, the ambassador is sick?” She flopped her arms next to her body as the file in her hand smacked against her hip. “Please tell me he didn’t drink the water or eat something out there?” Anyone who ever traveled outside the United States knows better than to drink the local water.

  Both men grimaced.

  “In the limousine on the way here, he put ice in his glass before he poured the cola over top,” Gumby offered.

  “That’s the only place with we could figure he may have been exposed to something that upset his stomach.” The sailor on the right concluded.

  Willow took a deep breath. “Why didn’t you just tell me he was in the bathroom? We could’ve avoided this whole scene.”

  Gumby grinned. “But it was fun.”

  “Miss Cardenas, our apologies. We were attempting discretion on behalf of the ambassador while doing our jobs. I know you’re just trying to do yours.” The man on the right held out his hand. “I’m Mark Wright but everybody calls me Bubba.”

  Finally. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mark Wright. Since you’ve asked, I’ll call you Bubba.” Willow turned toward Gumby. “And what would your given name be?”

  “Decker Kincade, ma’am.” He took her hand and simply held it. It was such a sweet gesture. Too bad there was no zing. No tingles. “You have my apologies as well. We’re not so good at this kind of guard duty. We are the best in the world when it comes to protecting people in the field, but we leave the standing around looking pretty to the Marine Corps guards.”

  She burst out laughing. “Don’t let them hear you saying things like that.”

  Click. The sound of the lock opening from behind the men was unmistakable.

  Both Navy men came to attention.

  “Sir, Miss Willow Cardenas to see you,” Bubba announced.

  The ambassador swung the door wide. “Why don’t you all come in and join me?” He pointed to a seating area just inside the door.

  Willow automatically walked in and stood in front of her seat. She considered it hers because this is the way she had started every single day for the past five years. She held out her hand to her surprisingly handsome new boss. “Ambassador Snyder, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” She slid a glance toward Bubba and Gumby before quietly adding the word, “finally.”

  Both men had the decency to look sheepish.

  The ambassador sat, Willow followed suit, as was protocol. Waiting for him to speak first, was another of the many lessons she had learned in diplomacy classes as part of her foreign service officer training.

  He nodded to the file in her hand. “Is
there an agenda in there for me to follow?”

  Oh, damn. She and Ambassador Vance had never used an agenda. That’s okay. She would get through this. “I thought for our initial meeting it would be better for me to explain exactly what I do for the United States government and this embassy, then we can talk a little bit about how we’re going to work together. In my role as public diplomacy officer, I will be accompanying you everywhere, but I am not your aide or your secretary.”

  She may have said that last part too emphatically. She wanted him to understand that she couldn’t perform those duties for him as well as everything assigned to her. She did not take notes during his meetings or type them up. She quickly added to clarify, “Many ambassadors consider their public diplomacy officer like a senator or congressman would his chief of staff. I am completely versed in everything that goes on in this embassy, and that includes the good, the bad, and the ugly. On a moment’s notice, I have to be prepared to present the views and policies of the United States government and how it affects the country of Venezuela.”

  When Ambassador Snyder smiled, he looked as though he could be running for any political office. “Sounds like you are my right-hand man.”

  “Yes, sir.” She gave him her PR smile. “I’m here to make sure you look good, especially in front of cameras.”

  He ran his hand down his slightly ashen face. “Let’s skip the cameras today, please.” He slid a glance toward the guards who stood with their hands crossed at the small of their backs. Bubba and Gumby had taken turns pacing the office and peeking through the blinds to the outer office and looking out the expanse of windows. “I’m afraid the country greeted me with Montezuma’s revenge.”

  Willow glanced at the file in her lap to hide her grimace. “Our physician was removed as nonessential personnel, but I have keys to the medical center. I’ll call him, so he can technically prescribe something for you. You should feel better within hours.”

  “That would be wonderful.” Relief seemed to wash over her new boss. He looked up at Bubba, then to her. “I know you’ve been here for several years and were key to my predecessor. Everything in your file says that you were loyal to the ambassador, but—”

  Willow had heard enough. “With all due respect, Ambassador Snyder, my position here is to represent the United States of America.” She practically jumped out of her chair and leaned toward him. “And to make sure you do, too. If you don’t think you’re capable of handling every aspect of the duties of an ambassador, then it is my responsibility to notify the State Department immediately. I want to make sure you completely understand that I was not involved, in any way, in the dealings of former Ambassador Vance.” She emphasized the word former so he would understand that she was completely clear on who now held the office of ambassador to Venezuela.

  “Please sit, Miss Cardenas.” He gestured toward the chair. Her chair.

  Pensively, she sat back down.

  “I assure you, I am not questioning your loyalty. I’m asking for your help.” He started to speak, then stopped. He opened his mouth, then closed it and paused for several heartbeats. “I’d like to be able to speak freely with you.”

  “Yes, sir.” This sounded like step one in a completely different relationship with this ambassador than she had with the last.

  “First, my name is Mark. In this office, please call me Mark. To be honest with you, ‘Ambassador Snyder’ sounds like you’re talking to somebody else.” His gaze swept the spacious room, the large Honduran mahogany desk, deep cherry bookshelves, windows with views that looked out over the city of Caracas to the mountains on the far side. “I got thrown into this job at the very last minute. I never expected to be an ambassador to anywhere, least of all a country in the middle of a civil war.”

  He chuckled. “I guess this is what happens when your fraternity brother becomes Governor of Florida and you spent endless hours in law school debating international politics.”

  When he looked at her, she held his gaze. “I’m going to be honest with you, Willow, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” He grinned. “A few minutes ago, when you told me you were here to make me look good, I could’ve hugged you. I need you.”

  His stomach made a very loud gurgling noise. He shot up out of his chair and speed walked toward the private bathroom. “But what I need first is that medication.”

  Willow stood, walked to the large desk, and started punching numbers into the phone. She felt bad for her new boss on so many levels.

  Chapter 3

  Remi glanced around the conference room at the Guardian Security Miami Center. It looked exactly the same as the one in D.C.. As did the entire office. It was as though they had found a building similar to the one in Washington, gutted the entire thing, and rebuilt the inside to match the one he worked in. The good news, he knew where everything was, even the secret armory.

  “Sir, incoming conference call from Tom Gillpatrick.” The operations center tech looked up at Alex. “Would you rather take this in your office?”

  “No. We’re here, and I’m quite sure this has to do with the Venezuelan contract.” Alex and Dex continued to go over the equipment list, deciding what needed to be shipped that day and what could wait for the next transport. It was almost déjà vu with one exception—Griffin Mitchell, the Miami Center manager sat next to him rather than Top Cooper. No, two exceptions. The city outside the window definitely wasn’t Washington D.C..

  While waiting for the videoconference to begin, Remi continued to scan the files on the SD drive. He’d met his new team and was very pleased with Alex’s selections. All had been special operators before—two were Army Special Forces; two were Navy SEALs, but both were stationed on the West Coast; one was Marine Corps SpecOps; and he even had a medic-trained Air Force para-jumper. They were all from different Guardian Security Centers, too, so no one had ever worked together. He could mold this team. They’d already started an hour ago when he’d let them go shopping in the Miami Center’s Armory. Men bond quickly over firepower

  As soon as they were to land in Venezuela, Mr. Dunaway had to be taken to the U.S. Embassy to meet with Ambassador Mark Snyder, at the new ambassador’s request. Remi hated dividing his team the minute they hit the ground in theater, and he thought of the volatile country as though it were at war, but this might work out for the best. His men could sweep the new compound for bugs and establish the perimeter while he kept Mr. Dunaway in what had to be the safest place in the country.

  Remi flipped through photographs and profiles of those left at the embassy. Most of the men were in their late forties to early fifties, had worked for the State Department their entire careers as foreign service officers for one embassy or another. When he clicked on the file for the public diplomacy officer, he was stunned.

  She was still there.

  And even more beautiful than he’d remembered.

  She was such a pretty little thing. Dark brown hair fell to her shoulders framing a heart-shaped face that somehow accented those big brown eyes. Her perfect white teeth were bordered by full lips painted a red that exactly matched the dress. Her skin was a lighter brown than most Mexicans, but she was definitely of that heritage. She looked like a TV news anchor. Gorgeous. Classy. Untouchable. And a ballbuster.

  Just his type.

  He had always been attracted to the women he couldn’t have. In high school it had been Betty Lynn Kaczynski. Her father had been the general manager of the plant where his father still ran a machine after thirty years. A few dozen kisses and some heavy petting in the backseat of her car at a basketball game was all Remi needed to be in love. Betty Lynn, on the other hand, had succeeded in making her boyfriend jealous.

  At his first duty station at Little Creek, Virginia, his lieutenant had hosted a beach party where his wife had invited several of her sorority sisters. At the end of the night, he’d hooked up with Lacey Whitaker. For the next month, he had become her dirty little secret. Remi grinned at all the dirty little things that woman lo
ved to do in bed. Although he’d never mentally made long-term plans with her, nor had their pillow talk ever ventured into the future, it still hurt when he saw her across the Virginia Beach bar hanging on a lieutenant from another SEAL team. Their eyes met and he’d instantly known her days of slumming with an enlisted man were over.

  Smart. Gorgeous. Refined. College-educated. He barely had enough money to buy a ticket to the game, say nothing about playing in her league.

  Remington Steel was well aware of who and what he was. Like the other men on his SEAL team, his physical needs were always satisfied by the base bunnies easily found at the bars just outside the gates. There were always women looking for that orange military dependent card, hoping her flirtatious ways while sucking down cheap beer, followed by her expertise in sucking him off, would net her a gold ring. That lifestyle got old quickly for him.

  He’d been in for almost ten years when he made the decision that he had enough. He was done eating meals out of a thick plastic bag, killing mosquitoes that carried diseases that could kill a human, and risking his life to save idiots who didn’t listen to the warnings of the State Department and CIA. Sure, he missed his brothers on his SEAL team every day, and prayed they continued to dodge bullets, but he’d found a better way of life.

  He chuckled at himself. So, where was he headed in just a few hours? Right back into a country known for thick jungles, mosquitoes that shared malaria as fast as coworkers shared a cold, and where flying bullets were a definite possibility. He looked up from his computer to Alex and Dex. At least he was going in well-supplied and they would have hot fresh food, and he’d sleep in a real bed every night.

  He glanced at the picture of Willow Cardenas on his laptop. She looked so sweet, innocent. For the flash of a second, he wondered if she would remember him. They had so much fun the five or six times the large group had gone out. Remi was embarrassed he didn’t remember the first time they’d had sex, but he remembered every minute of the second, and last.