Shattered Duty

by Katie Reus

  She nodded, the hood moving oddly over her face. “I promise. . . . Thank you.”

  That was all the affirmation he needed. Moving swiftly, they ascended the stairs. The upper hallway was still empty. He was glad because he didn’t want to have to kill someone in front of the girl. She was likely already traumatized enough.

  Two doors down on the right side he stopped. There was another keypad. As he typed in the code, he felt her tentative hand at his back.

  When he turned, she leaned in close. “There will be at least two guards in the garage.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

  He held a finger to his lips.

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself, clearly nervous, but at least she was keeping it together. He didn’t have time for a hysterical principal. It would fuck up the entire op. When they reached the end of the stairs he glanced over his shoulder just to make sure she was still with him. Beyond the stairwell he could hear male voices. Multiple. More than two.

  Shit.

  He peered around the corner before quickly ducking back. There were four men, all clustered together as they joked about tag-teaming some woman. His mother had been born in the United States but her parents had emigrated from Spain and she’d taught him what she considered pure Spanish. But he understood these fuckers perfectly well even with some of the different pronunciations. Oh yeah, these guys were going to die tonight. Levi took out another explosive and placed it on one of the stairs.

  He motioned for the girl to stay put, then handed her his KA-BAR. Under normal circumstances he’d never give up a weapon, but he wanted her to have a way to defend herself. When she just nodded and clutched the knife tightly in her grip, he readied his MP5.

  Envisioning the scene, he knew he’d have one chance to take these guys out in a single sweep. Their close proximity gave him a huge advantage. Finger on the trigger, he stepped from his position and opened fire.

  Only one of the men managed to reach for his weapon before they all hit the ground, covered in blood, dead or dying. The MP5 was truly a masterpiece of weaponry. Unlike other submachine guns with silencers this beauty used standard ammo and was one of the most accurate of its kind. And he loved it. He tapped his earpiece as he peered back around the corner of the stairwell. As he waved at the girl to move, he said, “Exiting now. Watch for movement.”

  “We’ve got eyes on the gate.”

  While the girl stepped cautiously into the four-car garage, he quickly scanned for some sort of key holder. A pegged board or—

  “They’re in the vehicles,” she said, reading his mind, still clutching his knife like her life depended on it. Not that he blamed her. What he wouldn’t give to kill Jimenez himself.

  Nodding, Levi pointed at the biggest SUV. As she hurried toward the passenger side he placed Semtex under the other three vehicles: two cars that cost more than he made in a year and a custom-made ATV.

  Moments later he was in the driver’s seat, his adrenaline flashing through him like lightning even though he was rock steady. He wanted to order her into the back, but didn’t bother. They wouldn’t be in the SUV very long. Just as she’d said, the key was in the visor.

  “Moving out now,” he said as he started the engine. As it flared to life he pressed the garage door opener, barely waiting until it had cleared the SUV before reversing.

  As he tore into the driveway he was surprised they weren’t fired on. But as he whipped around in a one-eighty, he heard shouts then pings against the SUV. Like rain on a tin roof, it splattered over them, but he’d already known the SUV was bulletproof.

  “Blow it now,” he ordered as he raced down the long driveway. “And get down,” he said to the girl.

  She immediately complied, ducking in her seat.

  Less than fifty yards in front of them a giant explosion rent the air, orange flames lighting up the night sky as the heavy gate blew off its hinges, carving them a direct path to freedom.

  “Tangos are down, you have a clean exit,” Ortiz, one of his teammates, said. “We’ll cover you. Get Scorpion to safety.”

  Levi pulled out a detonator and pressed the button. A multitude of explosions rocked behind them as they flew through the gate.

  “Holy crap,” she murmured, sitting up and turning around in her seat. “Do you think Jimenez is dead?” she asked, the hope lacing her voice clawing at him.

  What kind of fucker kidnapped a teenager and assaulted her? Unfortunately there were too many men in the world like that and not enough bullets. “If he’s not now he will be in the next ten minutes. Trust me.” An airstrike would be called in as soon as he and the rest of the team were cleared.

  A glance in the rearview mirror told him they weren’t being followed as they sped down the quiet road in the jungle. Jimenez’s place was out in the middle of nowhere but according to Levi’s exit plan, they were barely twenty minutes from what had to be the coast of Cartagena.

  “All tangos are down and the main target has been eliminated,” Ortiz said.

  “The principal is secure. We’ll be at the meet point in less than twenty. Going dark,” Levi responded.

  “See you back home. Watch your six,” his teammate said before cutting off communication.

  Levi glanced at the girl. “Jimenez and everyone in that compound are dead. You’re safe.”

  She swallowed loud enough for him to hear as a shudder racked her entire body. “I wish I could have seen him die.”

  Her statement wasn’t surprising. “From here we’re going to get on a small boat.” They’d be piggybacking on a naval special operations craft. Those on board wouldn’t know anything about this op other than he and the girl were to be taken to a drop point and the girl was top priority. “About a mile out to sea, you’ll be getting on a yacht and taken to safety.”

  “You’re not coming with me?” she asked quietly.

  “No, but you’ll be okay. They used a lot of fucking manpower to save you, so don’t worry.” The words were meaningless considering what she’d likely been through but he wanted to say something to soothe her.

  She didn’t respond and by the time they reached the pick-up point, she was full-on trembling. He parked the SUV in a deserted parking lot right off a small public beach. When she nearly stumbled getting out of the SUV, he picked her up, holding her close. “Hang in there—we don’t have much longer,” he murmured.

  Curling into him, she wrapped an arm around his shoulder, but didn’t respond. For all he knew she was going into shock. Waves crashed in the distance, the salty scent of the ocean tingeing the air. With sweat rolling down his face, he stuck to the shadows as he passed through a cluster of foliage and onto the soft sand. The beaches here weren’t like back in California. There weren’t any homes or shops around for miles.

  The bright moon illuminated the waiting SOC, but he paused, scanning the beach. Two shadows moved near the coastline. When he saw the burst of a blue handheld flare light up, he finally allowed himself a sliver of relief. Holding up one hand, he silently hurried toward the two men as fast as he could move through the sand carrying the girl.

  Less than sixty seconds later they were seated on the back of the vessel and though he’d tried to put the girl down, she wouldn’t let go of him. Sitting against the side of the boat, they hummed through the water at an impressive speed.

  He held the young woman in his arms, hating how frail she felt. “Did they hurt you?” he murmured loud enough for only her to hear. The hum of the engine drowned out everything in a two-foot radius and the other men—SEALS, he guessed—were standing guard around the perimeter of the boat and armed to the teeth.

  “I’ve got a hood over my head—what do you think?” she snapped, her voice shaky and watery sounding. As if she was crying under the hood.

  But at least she was talking. He held back a curse, hating that he couldn’t take the thing off her. It just felt so wrong to sit there with her, taking her to safety and not being able to show her that freedom was close. She might b
e able to see a little, but it was likely difficult on the boat. “I mean . . . do you need special medical attention? Maybe a female doctor?” He wasn’t even sure how he’d get one for her, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

  “They didn’t rape me if that’s what you mean,” she said so quietly he barely heard her. “Jimenez threatened me with it, but I’m way too valuable for that.”

  He didn’t have much experience with fragile females, but he rubbed her back lightly, up and down, hoping the soothing action calmed her.

  “What are you doing?” she shouted, sounding panicked as she tensed in his arms.

  He immediately stilled but didn’t let go of her, not wanting her to lose her balance if they hit a rough wave. “I was trying to help you calm down.”

  “As long as you don’t rub any lower.”

  Despite the situation he laughed. “Shit, kid. Not everyone’s a fucking pervert.”

  “In my experience they are. You sure like the F word.”

  He chuckled again. “Sorry. Comes with the job.” Being a Marine meant he had a degree in cursing.

  “What is your job exactly? Do you work for the CIA or NSA?”

  He paused, surprised by the question. “Can’t tell you that.”

  “Oh. What about your name?”

  “Can’t tell you that either.”

  She was silent for a long moment and he thought the conversation was over until she said, “Well, thank you for saving me. I wasn’t sure if my message got out.”

  He had no clue what she meant by message and he wasn’t going to ask. Sometimes the less he knew, the better. He grunted and to his surprise, she laid her head on his shoulder and finally relaxed enough that his KA-BAR loosened in her grip. He grasped it, not wanting her to hurt herself, and sheathed it.

  When the boat started to slow, she jerked against him with a short cry.

  “You’re okay. Can you stand or do you need help?” he asked gently. He still couldn’t pinpoint her age with the hood on but he guessed fifteen or sixteen.

  “I’m good, I think.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed up, her legs shaky.

  Looping an arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close as he took in the two waiting vessels: a huge yacht and a Donzi speedboat. He knew which one he was getting on.

  She tensed beside him, so he looked down at her hooded face. “You’re safe now, I promise. They don’t send in guys like me unless the rescue is important, okay?”

  She nodded, but didn’t respond.

  “Come on, kid. Give me something. You’re going to be okay, right?” He wanted to hear her say it.

  She nodded again. “Maybe I’ll feel better if I can have your knife.”

  His KA-BAR? His first instinct was to say hell no, but he had no clue what this kid had been through and if it would make her feel safe, he’d do it. He unclipped the sheath and gave the whole thing to her, handle first. “Be careful with it.”

  “I will.” Taking him off guard she lunged at him, pulling him into a big hug and sobbing against his chest as she murmured what sounded like “thank you.”

  Embarrassed, he glanced around at the other men on the craft. They were looking anywhere but at them. Thank God.

  Ah, hell, he tightened his grip around her and kissed the top of her hooded head. Something told him this was one op he’d never forget. He knew it’d be impossible to find out what happened to her after tonight but he really hoped she was going to be okay.

  • • •

  Eighteen hours later Levi rolled out of his warm bed, thankful to be back home on base. He’d gotten only a few hours of sleep but his schedule was all screwed up and he didn’t want to sleep the entire day. He scrubbed a hand over his face and decided not to bother shaving. His stubble was long enough that it was against regulations but, until a few hours ago, he hadn’t slept in almost three days and grooming wasn’t a priority now. He had a week’s leave coming and he planned to take full advantage. Already dreaming of a cold beer and a warm, willing woman, he made his way to the bathroom of his two-bedroom home.

  A loud knock at his front door made him pause. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but he headed to the front and didn’t bother asking who it was. Probably a neighbor needing help with a broken lawn mower or something.

  His heart rate kicked up a notch when he opened the door to find his commander, Colonel Harkin, standing there with a man in a suit who looked vaguely familiar. It took all of two seconds for him to recognize the other man: Lieutenant General Wesley Burkhart, new head of the NSA.

  What. The. Hell.

  Levi started to stand at attention until the colonel shook his head. “Lazaro, this is—”

  “Lieutenant General Wesley Burkhart, I know. Am I in trouble?” Might as well get to the point. There was no good reason for these two highly decorated men to be standing on his front porch.

  The colonel grunted in that dismissive way of his and shook his head. “No. And since you know who this is, I’m going to leave you two alone to talk. You already know he’s got the highest clearance in the country, so you can discuss anything with him.” Taking Levi by surprise, he reached out and shook his hand. “Good luck, son.”

  Still waking up, Levi didn’t respond as his commander headed back down the walkway. He nodded inside his home. “I was just about to make some coffee.”

  “Sounds good.” Burkhart stepped in after him, shutting the door behind them. The man was maybe fifty, with gray hair and in good shape for any age. And the man moved like a damn predator, each step calculated and efficient as he scanned the interior of Levi’s sparsely furnished home.

  After he pulled down two mugs from the cabinet above his coffeemaker, he started filling the glass pot with water. “You might as well start since I have no clue why you’re here,” Levi said. Behind him he heard the slight scraping of one of the kitchen table chairs being moved.

  “You did a good job on that last op. Why’d you give the girl your blade?”

  The question and tone made him pause. It didn’t surprise him that Burkhart knew about the op, not since he was the new director of the NSA. Levi imagined the man carried more secrets than anyone had a right to know.

  Levi finished preparing the pot before turning around and answering. “She was a scared kid and she wanted something to feel safe. Is she all right?”

  Burkhart’s mouth curved up the tiniest fraction, almost a micro-expression, as he nodded. “Yeah, she’s good, thanks to you and your team.”

  Levi just nodded, not certain if he should respond.

  After a long moment, in which Burkhart was almost preternaturally still, watching him like a lion watches its prey, the man spoke. “How’d you know who I was at the door?”

  “I read a couple of articles you wrote a few years ago when you were in the Navy.”

  His head tilted to the side a fraction, as if he was surprised. “You read the Navy Times?”

  Levi nodded. He read most military newspapers online.

  “I’m going to cut to the chase then. I’m putting together a team of men and women for black ops stuff. Similar to what the CIA has, but not. Less rules, less bureaucratic tape, and more funding. You’re the first man I’m approaching about this and if you say no, I’ll expect you to forget we ever had this conversation—but I don’t think you’re going to say no. I could give you the whole spiel about how this country needs men like you, but you already know it. I’m asking you to help your country because you have a certain skill set and you’re highly intelligent. You won’t be able to jump out of planes forever and you’ll be doing a lot of good if you work for me.”

  Levi watched the man, looking for telltale signs of bullshit, but Burkhart was impossible to read. Which was good considering his job. Levi had read enough on the man to understand his politics—which were middle-of-the-road, thank God; extremists on either side were dangerous—and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested so far.

  The coffeemaker whirred quietly behind him a
s he digested what Burkhart was offering. “I’m skilled and highly trained.” He wasn’t being arrogant, it was just a fact. He wouldn’t be part of MARSOC if he wasn’t good. “But there are a lot of men like me. Why am I your first?”

  “I could give you a long answer about your ridiculous number of medals or the fact that you take top honors for every class or training exercise or that every individual who’s ever worked with you has nothing but praise, but . . . you asked how the girl was doing. It was your first question. And you gave her your fucking KA-BAR because she needed to feel safe. You care, Levi.”

  Levi rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the praise, hoping he wasn’t supposed to respond.

  Burkhart continued, “I need men and women who give a shit about the people we’re going to help. I will almost always look at the big picture, about what’s best for the country as a whole. I need people working for me who will question my decisions and will remind me that the individual person helps make up our country.” Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a thin manila folder and laid it on the kitchen table. “If you read this and you’re not interested, we part ways and you never speak of this meeting. But if you are interested, you get an honorable discharge and start your training tomorrow.”

  Beyond curious, Levi picked up the file and started reading. By the second paragraph, his decision was made. He’d miss the Marine Corps more than anything, but he couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

  Chapter 1