by Zoe Dawson
“Yeah, I remember,” she said. Black Hawk Down was the single most terrible conflict in this war on terror. The capital of Somalia was located on the coast of the Indian Ocean.
Her gut was tight. It was her asset, and if this went south, it would be on her. Her boss and the ATF put their trust in her, and she wasn’t going to let them down.
As predicted by the orthopedic doctor at Walter Reed, Aella had come through her recovery and physical therapy with a clean bill of health. She couldn’t think about her compound fracture without thinking about Zach “Saint” Bartholomew, but those were old memories, and she cut them off. It wasn’t fair to be focusing on an old lover when she was seeing David Kessler on a steady basis. He wasn’t a SEAL, just a normal, everyday lawyer that she had met at one of the DOJ’s functions. He was safe and interested in supporting her career choices. He made sense to her, but it wasn’t her head that was giving her a hard time…it was her heart. But she couldn’t make emotional choices. Not when it came to her ambitions.
In the distance, she could hear the rumble of a truck. She kept her eyes on the camp in front of her. They were supposed to be exchanging the guns there with a local warlord, Axmed Omar. He had popped up as a threat to the waters in the region, believed to be arming men to start up a pirate hijacking and ransom campaign on the high seas. The military community and NATO had their eyes on him. She only cared about Darko and Zasha. She wanted them bad for what they had done to not only fellow ATF agents, but to 2-Stroke and Chry and to Striker, his team, her, and Saint. Heat flooded her at the thought of the man, but she quickly snapped her mind back into focus. She had to get closer.
“We’ve got to move.” She ran from the scrubby brush cover to a truck, then crouched as her partner covered the short distance. The truck roared into view and stopped just short of the big tent.
“Base, this is Quell. The weapons have arrived.” She got nothing but static. Jason was already sweating profusely in the heat. She tried again. “Base, this is Quell. How copy?” There was a joint team of Federal Government of Somalia soldiers and ATF agents ready to move in once they confirmed the weapons were there.
“What the hell is going on? I don’t like it, Aella.”
“Agreed. I’m going to make sure there are weapons in that truck. Hang here. I’ll be right back and then we’ll back off.”
He nodded. She checked for guards, but their rotation must have taken them out of her sight. All the better for her. She sprinted across the compound, staying close to the edge of the camp and away from the lights. She crouched down as the driver and his passenger got out of the truck and went into the tent.
Aella crept closer, her heart beating, adrenaline rushing into her system. When she was close enough, she dashed to the back and raised the flap. The truck was empty. Oh, damn. This was a trap. She had to warn base.
She made her way back to where she’d left Jason, but as she approached, she saw him sitting against the wheel well of the truck.
She reached him and hissed,” We’ve got to get out of here.”
He didn’t answer.
She turned to him. “This is a trap, Jason.”
When he didn’t respond, she turned around and shook him. He tipped over, his upper body illuminated by the camp lights. He was dead, his eyes open and his throat cut.
She rose, but it was too late.
“Hello, Agent Mikos.”
Aella closed her eyes and spun, her heart hammering and fists clenched, grief, fear, and anger all rolled into one hard ball in her middle. Zasha stood next to Darko, the warlord on the other side of her.
“I heard you were looking for us. Tag, you’re it.”
Someone grabbed her from behind, and she went into fighting mode. She spun and punched him, and he went down, grabbing his nose and writhing. More men came at her and she fought them with fists and feet, but they soon overwhelmed her.
They immobilized her arms, then her legs, taking her down to the ground. Breathing hard, she looked up at Zasha, Darko, and Axmed. The warlord smiled. “Yes, I will take her in trade. I think she will be a great asset to me. This concludes our transaction.”
Zasha bent down and smiled, grabbing a handful of Aella’s hair, yanking it painfully as she pulled her head up. “Enjoy your stay. Everyone is dying to get to know you…” She dropped her head and rose. She and Darko walked away.
All of this had been about her?
Damn them. They were going to leave her in this man’s hands. She had no doubt what he would do to her. She’d rather they had killed her.
2-Stroke walked into the ready room and took a seat. He’d had several no deployed weeks with Chry. He’d given her several rides on his Harley Star. She was full out planning their wedding and had decided not to continue as their liaison. A new guy had been assigned, Terrance Duncan, but he went by Terry. He was good, but he damn well wasn’t Chry. Kat Cross, married to Team 7’s Orion “Wicked” Cross from Ruckus’s team, had offered Chry an analyst job, and she was thrilled to be back behind the computer. She told him she was a better analyst than she was an operative.
Dean and 2-Stroke continued to be baffled by all that money. So, his brother was going to do some investigation as to the source and why it was beneath their floorboards. Knowing Dean “Striker” Teller like he did, 2-Stroke had no doubt his brother would suss it out and solve the mystery.
Saint came in along with Dodger. They were laughing, and he was sure it was something that Dodger had said. Sometimes, he didn’t even mean to be funny.
2-Stroke pulled out his sketchbook. He’d have to buy another one, as he’d filled up most of the pages. He was doing other art at home, and Chry loved his renderings. He enjoyed it.
He started to sketch Dodger. Fast Lane, Dragon, and Mad Max entered, Jugs bounding into the room chasing a ball that Fast Lane had thrown. Pitbull walked in followed by Hemingway. His and Shea’s wedding was coming up this summer. He sat down next to 2-Stroke and looked over at the sketch. “Isn’t his head a little bigger than that?”
2-Stroke chuckled.
“What did you say, mate?” Dodger narrowed his eyes at Hemingway and raised his fists. “Do you want me to rethink being best man?”
Hemingway chuckled and flipped him off.
Colonel Jackson came into the room with Terry. “Listen up,” he said.
Terry clicked on the screen and started talking. “We’ve just gotten word that Special Agent Aella Mikos has been captured and is being held by this man.” He put up her slide, then a second slide next to hers. 2-Stroke straightened. Everyone at the table stared at the slides. “This, gentlemen, is Axmed Omar. He is the new self-proclaimed ruler of the seas. He’s procured two high-powered ships that he intends to deploy on the Indian Ocean, once more threatening international shipping.” He put up a third and fourth slide. “He purchased them from these two arms dealers—”
“Darko Stjepanić and Zasha Vasiliev,” Saint said, his attention laser-focused on the slides. “Where is she?”
Terry looked grim. “She’s being held in Mogadishu. We’ve attempted to negotiate with the government there, but this warlord has a lot of power. We’ve been given the green light to go in and rescue her. Your LT asked for this one.”
Fast Lane rose. “You have eighteen hours to get your affairs in order. I’ll see you on the tarmac.”
Fast Lane, Terry, and Colonel Jackson exited the room. Saint just sat there as if he was in shock and couldn’t move, but 2-Stroke saw the anger simmering in the normally laid-back West Virginian.
“We’re going to get her back,” 2-Stroke said.
“Hoo-yah!” Pitbull said.
“She’s tough,” Mad Max offered. “Might be tougher than me.”
Saint closed his eyes and scrubbed his face. He rose without a word and headed to the door, slamming through it.
“We all know what she’s going through right now,” Dragon said. “That guy is a twisted pervert, and he runs fighting matches. We all know how capable Aella
is, but if he’s pitting her against men…fuck this!”
2-Stroke felt sick at the thought of Aella at the hands of Omar. “Let’s get ourselves together, then get back here. Saint’s going to need support,” he said.
“We’ve got his back,” Pitbull said. “Hoo-yah!”
They all echoed it back.
When he got home, Chry had dinner on the table. He sat down and she looked at him. “I know you can’t say anything, but I’ve already been briefed. I was lucky that I wasn’t ever…violated, but Aella…oh, God.”
He went to her and wrapped his arms around her. “We’re going to get her back.”
She nodded, but it didn’t alleviate any of the fear they held for her.
Saint stood on the tarmac looking off in the distance. He had been thirty minutes early and saw when everyone had arrived, saying goodbye to their loved ones. He had fought the frantic need to get to her ever since he’d seen her beautiful face on that slide and knew she was in the hands of Omar. An evil, depraved bastard. He would kill the man with his bare hands if he harmed Aella, hurt her… He couldn’t finish the thought.
He took a breath, reminded himself to stay calm, to stay focused, to not give in to the wave of panic trying to wash over him. Her capture had been orchestrated by a lying, betraying asset, and before he left Mogadishu, he was going to find out who had sold her out.
So, help him God, people were going to pay.
Darko and Zasha were going down if he had to track them to the ends of the earth.
He should never have made love with her. The price of having her was going to be too damn steep. He could feel it in his bones just how long he was going to be paying for having her, for easing the ache she’d put in his heart.
But all that he felt for her swirled inside him until it was something alive, and the sheer torture that he might be too late was almost too much to bear.
Fast Lane grabbed his shirt. “Do you have your head in the game? I don’t need any cowboys on this team.”
“I got it under control,” he said, and for the first time in his professional and personal relationship with Ford “Fast Lane” Nixon, his CO, his respected and noble LT, Saint lied to his face.
Next up will be the 15th book in the SEAL Team Alpha series, Saint. Our dedicated medic and warrior will be going after Special Agent Aella Mikos in an adrenaline rush of action and suspense. She’s being held by a ruthless warlord in Somalia, and Saint’s about to go off the rails to get her out. Aella thought her love affair with Saint had been relegated to the past until he shows up to rescue her, making her reassess everything in her life. But will she choose complicated and passionate with Saint or stick with her easy and simple man?
Glossary
BO - Basic Orientation (BUD/S)
BUD/S - Basic Underwater Demolitions/SEAL training
Comm - The equipment that SEALs use to communicate with each other in the field.
CO - Commanding Officer
CTT - Combat Training Tank
DEVGRU - The United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group (NSWDG), formerly SEAL Team Six
DoD - Department of Defense
DOR - Drop on Request
DZ - Drop zone, the targeted area for parachutists.
HALO - High altitude, low opening jump from an aircraft.
HVT - High value target
IBS - Inflatable Boat, Small
IED - Improvised Explosive Device
Klicks - Shortened word for kilometers.
LRRP - Long-range reconnaissance patrol.
LT - Nickname for lieutenant.
LZ - Landing Zone where aircraft can land.
Merc - Mercenary - guns for hire.
MWD - Military Working Dog
MRE - Meals, Ready-to-Eat, portable in pouches and packed with calories, these packaged meals are used in the field.
NATO - North Atlantic Treaty Organization
NCIS - Naval Criminal Investigative Service
NWU - Navy Working Uniform
OIC - Officer in Charge
REACT - Regional Enforcement Action Capabilities Team
RIB - Rigid Inflatable Boat
RPG - Rocket Propelled Grenade
R&R - Rest and Relaxation
Tango -Hostile combatants.
SERE -Stands for survival, evasion, resistance, escape. The principles of avoiding the enemy in the field.
Six - Military speak for watching a man’s back.
SO - Special Operator
SPIES - Special Patrol Insertion & Extraction System
UDT - Underwater Demolitions Team
About the Author
Zoe Dawson lives in North Carolina, one of the friendliest states in the US. She discovered romance in her teens and has been spinning stories in her head ever since. Her heroes are sexy males with a disregard for danger and whether reluctant, gung-ho, or caught up in the action, show their hearts of gold.
Her imagination runs wild with romances from sensual to scorching including romantic comedy, new adult, romantic suspense, small town, and urban fantasy. Look below to explore the many avenues to her writing. She believes it’s all about the happily ever afters and always will.
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www.zoedawson.com
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