About a year ago, Izabel had opened an account on an online dating website. Drake lost his shit. That was the one time fucking social media cracked the walls he’d built around his emotions. Tex assured him he’d do everything in his power so Izabel wouldn’t find a match. That calmed him down a bit, but his friend had no control when the interest came from a co-worker.
A hotshot new architect from Iza’s firm had tagged her in a post and she looked … happy.
Drake gripped the barrel of the rifle and imagined that punk’s neck between his fingers. Surely, Iza couldn’t be attracted to that shithead.
He paused when he realized he was growling.
Fuck.
He squeezed his eyes shut, replaced the image of Izabel with that of his dead comrades, and cold fury flowed through his blood once more, clearing his mind of all directives saved one.
Get Hamza.
Haran, Turkey
0200 Local time
The tarmac blazed with lights as their tactical SUVs arrived at the hangar. Outside the structure, two Black Hawks sat with their rotors churning slowly and their engines keyed up in that familiar whine.
There were two assault teams—each with four operators. The mission code was Lightning. Drake was Lightning One. Brick was Lightning Two and led the second team. Each team had a sniper who would provide high vantage point cover fire.
Drake and his team piled into the waiting choppers. He nodded to a man in a flight suit. “You my gunner?”
“Yes, sir.” He needed to verify this shit because when his team was dropped into a hot zone, they needed cover fire before their sniper got situated.
On his team was Edmunds; Spike, a former army ranger and sniper; and Rex, an ex-recon Marine who was also their demolitions expert. Their target was forty minutes away in a compound in Al Bab, Syria that was on the outskirts of Aleppo. He consulted the pilot regarding the drop point. From the latest intel, fast roping wasn’t possible with tangos guarding the compound. The INFIL (infiltration) plan would clear the rooftops of the outbuildings with their fifty-caliber machine gun and drop their snipers into place.
As the bird lifted off and accelerated to regular cruising speed, everyone sat back to get their mind on the mission. They were flying into Syrian airspace without permission. Everyone on both helos knew if they got caught they would be on their own. Capture was not an option.
Their helos flew by deserted wastelands and long stretches of highway, cruising low and completely blacked out as they approached their destination with stealth.
“Three minutes,” the pilot announced.
That was a signal for them to check their equipment, weapons, and ammo. Their gunner prepared the fifty cals and rotated the rounds. The bird dropped almost to the ground before jumping over the barrier surrounding the compound.
In the span of several heartbeats, the night lit up with muzzle flashes. The team was jostled around as the pilot outmaneuvered the tracer assault. Then the bird banked left so their gunner could pave the way for insertion.
The hostiles retreated as the machine gun tore through the courtyard, cutting some of them in half before rising to the tallest structure and neutralizing the guards there as well. Spike dropped to the rooftop to assume sniper duties.
“Eagle in position,” Spike reported.
“Copy that,” Brick replied. “Dropping our package as well.” Lightning Two and his team were breaching the same building but from the rear entrance. This was to mitigate any enemy escape especially their main target.
Their helo returned to the courtyard now empty of tangos, but the muzzle flashes continued from inside their target—a two-story concrete structure. Their gunner and Spike provided cover fire as they jumped to the ground. Drake went first, took a knee, and sighted through his rifle as his team moved ahead. As the bird lifted off, he joined his men and they shuffled toward their target in combat stance.
Spike made sure their path was clear and kept the hostiles from firing.
Mostly.
They reached the door and Rex immediately set the breaching charge.
As the entrance exploded, Drake tossed in a flash-bang grenade.
Drake tapped Edmunds shoulder and his man forged ahead.
“Clear left” he yelled.
Rex followed. “Clear Right!”
Drake followed down the center as he became the first man in their three-man stack. Eyes behind his rifle’s sight, he swept from room to room. The second room on their right yielded a huddle of women and children.
“Got this. Go!” Edmunds stayed behind to guard them while Drake and Rex continued on.
They reached a corner-fed room that was between two hallways. Spying Brick coming from the opposite hallway, the other team lead nodded. “Go ahead, One.”
Drake keyed his mic twice and then took a big step to balance his pivot into the room just as Rex swept in behind him. “Clear.”
Before them were stairs leading to the second floor. Drake was sure the hostiles were lying in wait ready to spray them with bullets but, from his experience, they were too eager and jumpy. The house was in total darkness and everything was lit up only by their NVGs. Leading by the dot from his scope, Drake sighted movement and squeezed off two shots just as gunfire erupted down the steps. A man in white robe fell on the landing. As Drake stepped over him, he shot the man in the head. Sporadic fire met him at the top of the steps, but the hostiles were shooting blindly. He and Rex quickly got rid of two more.
The first room at the top of the steps was clear but was laden with file cabinets and computers. One of Brick’s men stayed behind to collect hard drives and disks.
With a third room cleared, that left the last one at the end of the hallway. This was going to be …
The roar of gunshots blasted holes through the door just as a force slammed into Drake and knocked him flat on his ass. A fiery arc swept above him as he was dragged into the last room they cleared.
“Son of a bitch,” Drake hissed. His chest was on fire as he quickly checked his vest and managed to exhale a breath.
“You all right?” Brick asked.
“Yeah. SAPI plate stopped the fucking round,” he choked.
“Looks like Youssef is going down fighting.” Brick held out a hand and pulled him up.
“Sounds good to me,” Drake muttered.
Rex entered the room. “Got an SED on the door.”
Drake grinned through the throbbing of his chest. He loved their toys. Sticky Explosive Device was a bomb that could attach to any surface. It was their last resort if the tango had no plans of surrendering because of the destruction it could cause. At this moment, Drake wanted Youssef dead and not waste another molecule of oxygen on the bastard who’d killed his brothers.
“Light him up.”
Drake stared at the mangled body of the man who’d eluded capture for so long. If Youssef Hamza hadn’t died from the blast wave, he would have bled out from the tear to his femoral artery. A piece of the door had turned into a deadly spear and pierced Hamza in his thigh and sliced through the critical vessel if the massive pool of blood under him was anything to go by.
Brick received confirmation from their analyst that the transmitted image was indeed the Maharib Altanwir mastermind.
His end was fatalistic, poetic justice.
For Drake it was a chance for his life to move forward. The weight in his chest, the need to avenge his fallen brothers had finally lifted as a sense of freedom took hold. The shackles that had kept him focused on Deadly Spear fell off and he could look to a future again.
A future with Izabel.
Ramstein-Miesenbach, Germany
1800, local time
“So, any idea what you’re going to do after this?”
Brick’s question broke through Drake’s thoughts. Now that Youssef Hamza was dead and his organization was in tatters, Drake was anxious to reintegrate into society. But getting back to Izabel wouldn’t be as easy as he first thought. Though she may come to u
nderstand why he faked his death, she wouldn’t have agreed to that plan if she’d had a say in it. She would have gone on the run with him. She’d have stood by his side even if he were crippled and with Hamza breathing down their necks. No, she’d be furious if she found out the truth.
He’d broken her trust. Gaining it back would be the hardest fight of his life.
“Go home. Get back with my wife.” Drake wanted to snort because he had no fucking clue how to approach her.
“Are you joining the SEALs again?”
“No. I planned on quitting. The day everything went to hell … that was supposed to be my last mission.” They’d wanted to start a family and they both agreed that him being deployed all the time wasn’t an ideal way to start. Pain stabbed his chest as he remembered the baby they lost.
“Does that mean I don’t get to call you Dave any more?”
Dave Morgan was the identity created for him. He made himself respond to both names because he’d always intended to return as Drake Maddox.
“You can call me whatever, Brick.”
“I’ll miss your ugly mug,” the ginger-haired operator said.
The door opened and the rest of their crew filed in. Viktor brought up the rear with his data analyst, Tim. The man was a whiz with computers just like Tex.
“Tim analyzed some of the information collected from Hamza’s compound and we believe we’ll be able to identify who leaked the plans of the JSOC operation to the various terror networks.”
“Weren’t you certain it was someone from the administration?” Brick asked.
“We need hard evidence before accusing a high ranking official of treason.”
Drake smiled grimly. “Didn’t think that ever stopped you before.”
Viktor smirked. “I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
Snorts and varying degrees of laughter made the rounds in the room. Everyone knew Viktor didn’t stick to protocol and didn’t give a damn who he’d crossed. Drake had a suspicion he had dirt on everyone, including the President. This was what made the man and his company—Artemis Guardians Services (AGS)— lethal. They had special ops skills, brains, and international connections that made them virtually unstoppable. Despite Drake’s initial resistance to working for the man, much of what he’d learned under Viktor opened his eyes to a world where politics had no control over what was needed to get things done.
“The Director is very pleased with the information we’ve recovered,” Viktor said. “He’s thinking of expanding the Task Force objectives to go after other terrorists organizations.”
Drake froze. “I’m out.”
“We haven’t finished the mission, Morgan.”
“It’s Maddox.”
Viktor snorted. “Until we find out who’d leaked intel of classified military ops to Hamza, our mission is not over.”
“Understood. But that sounds like the work of an analyst and a spook, not people with my skillset.” Drake nodded to Brick and the other men on his team.
Viktor smiled faintly. “Haven’t you learned what it means to be a spy after three years?”
Drake emitted a disgruntled sound. There were times when he donned a tuxedo for some function to gain information. Part of the training that was hammered into him while he recovered from his injuries was learning the finesse of the craft of espionage.
“Your documents,” Viktor tipped his chin at Tim who proceeded to hand out Manila envelopes to a couple of them. A flash drive, a passport and a birth certificate fell out. A weight pressed down on Drake’s chest as he ran his thumb over his name and picture on the passport. He couldn’t wait to shed his Dave Morgan skin and return to who he once was, but Viktor was right. The job wasn’t done. Whether Drake had more to offer remained to be seen.
“If the traitor is within the administration, this might be a job for the DoJ and FBI,” he pointed out. “We’re pushing our jurisdiction too far.”
Drake winced as soon as the words left his mouth. It sounded hypocritical and judging from the glimmer in Viktor’s eyes and the suppressed cough from Brick, they thought the same. Their team had broken so many laws in other countries, Drake had lost count. In the beginning he had problems adjusting to that mindset after being restricted by the rules of engagement the JSOC had instilled into their operators. But with Task Force Deadly Spear, the rules had not only been broken, they’d been obliterated.
There was only one rule: Don’t get caught.
“Fuck,” Drake muttered.
“Exactly,” Viktor murmured. “We’re ghosts remember?” A cautionary tone in the man’s voice made him look up.
“Use your alias when you enter U.S. soil.” His gaze turned to Drake. “I can’t stop you from seeing Izabel—”
“Damn right,” he growled.
Viktor chuckled. “Can’t say I envy your situation. Have you figured out how to approach her yet?”
“Not really.” Somehow driving up to the front of the house, hoping she’d fly down the steps and jump into his arms was wishful thinking.
“If she refuses to speak to you, we can always kidnap her and keep her in the AGS bunker until she talks to you.”
Drake narrowed his eyes. “There will be no kidnapping.”
“You sure about that, Maddox?”
Everyone busted out laughing and Drake couldn’t stop from grinning.
“I’ll let you know.”
Chapter 4
“You’re not backing out from that date,” Izabel heard Cindy say through the speaker on her cell phone. Her friend was now her PA after Izabel had been promoted to project manager.
Throwing herself into her job may have helped Izabel through her grief, but she wouldn’t have made it without Cindy, especially when she lost her baby a mere four months after Drake’s death.
Pain dug into her chest.
Tears sprung to her eyes.
Would there ever come a time when their loss wouldn’t hurt? That was why she’d finally agreed to go on a real date and not one that was work-related. Maybe falling in love with someone else was the answer. Counseling sessions, group therapy, and the passage of time had dulled the pain, but there were still days when she felt she was drowning.
“I’m not backing out. Kyle’s great.” She had a good time with the new architect at their firm’s gala last week. They weren’t the belly flutters she’d experienced with Drake, but Izabel had accepted that her husband had been the love of her life. But like her grief counselor said, the heart had room to love more than one person, and it didn’t mean she was replacing Drake.
Izabel had to try because this gaping emptiness in the center of her chest had gone on for too long.
There was a sigh of relief from the other end of the line. “Good. I don’t know why you couldn’t find a match on RightSpark.”
It had been Cindy who opened an account for her on the online dating website saying she’d had much success there.
“Online dating doesn’t work for everyone. Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it’d work for me. And, for the love of God, don’t go opening accounts for me on all these websites.”
A hearty laugh came over the phone. “I just hate to see a beautiful woman like you remain single for the rest of your life. I’m sure your husband would’ve wanted you to find someone else and be happy.”
Izabel wasn’t sure that was a true statement. Drake was incredibly possessive. She imagined even in death he wouldn’t be willing for another man to have her. The corners of her lips tipped into a small smile.
“Didn’t you meet Drake in school?” Cindy asked suddenly.
“I was in my last year of grad school,” she replied. “I was the nerdy girl my classmates dragged to a bar. At twenty-six, I’d never had a serious boyfriend.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“I had a scholarship at an Ivy League university and I wasn’t going to mess that up by getting distracted.”
“And then Drake swept you off your feet,” her assistant gushed.
She laughed. “You could say that.” Contrary to what people believed, SEALs were a low-key bunch when they were out in public. She wasn’t even aware of their group at the noisy honky-tonk bar and hadn’t known that Drake had already singled her out from all the women in the establishment. He startled her when she came out of the restroom and she was about to douse him with pepper spray. He disarmed her easily and somehow managed to charm her enough to leave the bar with him. They ended up talking for hours in his pickup and had breakfast at a diner at two in the morning. He was in the area because one of his buddies was from Ithaca and was getting married.
“He gave me the best six years of my life.” Izabel’s voice crack.
“Shit, honey, the last thing I want to do is set you back,” Cindy said.
“I’m okay.” And she was determined to move on, dammit.
“Have you heard from Marcus?” her friend asked.
Izabel winced at the mention of Drake’s former commander. If there was someone whose loss was beyond catastrophic, it was Marcus Harrelson. To have lost his entire team and his family within days had proven too much for the man to bear. He’d drowned his sorrows in a bottle and gotten addicted to pain killers. He got kicked out of the Teams. She’d visited him every few weeks after he’d come back from rehab.
“Yes. A couple of days ago.”
“Does he look better?”
“Yes. I think this time rehab will stick. He seems more focused at work.” Izabel had gotten Marcus a job with her firm’s security department. With his background and the circumstances of his past, their boss was willing to overlook his one transgression of showing up drunk at work. But rehab had been a part of the deal.
Reclaiming Izabel (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) Page 3