Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mia (Kindle Worlds)

by Anne L. Parks

"In a storage facility not far from here. I thought it would be safe there since the unit is under my father's name."

  "Do you have the key on you?"

  Mia nodded and dug into her purse for her keyring. Lance stood and walked to the other side of the room and placed a call.

  Ben moved to the bed and sat in the spot vacated by Lance. His eyes were serious, but not resentful. Placing his elbows on his knees, he leaned closer to her. "Don't worry about a thing, Mia. We'll get to the bottom of this and make sure you're safe." Ben slid his hands around hers, their warmth melting away the ice cold in her fingers.

  Mia glanced over Ben's shoulder to where Lance paced back and forth, phone to his ear. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but wasn't sure it mattered. These were Navy SEALs. So many of her friends in Norfolk had been part of Matthew's team. Being friends with Caroline had made her a part of their friend circle. Anyone of those men would have laid their lives down for her. Something inside a SEAL made the instinct to protect those who needed help a vital part of their make-up. There was no reason to believe that Ben and Lance were not of the same SEAL ilk.

  Lance rejoined them, peering momentarily at their clasped hands before he spoke. "One of my guys is going to get the file from the storage unit and bring it back here."

  Mia tensed. Did she trust some stranger in her storage unit, rummaging through her personal papers and family trinkets?

  Lance must have sensed her trepidation because he squatted next to her chair, and made direct eye contact with her. "Don't worry, Mia. I trust Mason. He'll only be in there long enough to locate the file and get it back here. It's safer for him to go. No one will associate him with you or Ben. I don't feel comfortable leaving the hotel in case someone has seen me with Ben."

  "Without the file, there's no way to know what we're up against. Keeping you safe, and getting to the bottom of why people are—" Ben paused, "—interested in you, will be a hell of a lot easier if we have at least some information. The file is the key."

  Get a grip, Mia. Stop being some shrinking flower about to wilt and die. Get pissed and figure out who the hell is trying to kill you.

  "If you'll hand me that notepad and the pen, I'll write down the address for the storage place." She pulled up the contact list on her phone and scrolled until she found the Store It All a few miles from her house. Slipping the storage key off the ring, she handed it to Lance. "It's unit 227. Once he gets inside, he'll need to find a green wingback chair. Underneath it is a blue cooler. The file is at the bottom of a pile papers inside."

  Clutching the key in his hand, Lance gave her a tight smile, and exited the room.

  The air around her was heavy, sitting on her shoulders, weighing her down. Damn, she was exhausted all of a sudden. Sitting back in her chair, she let her head drop back and closed her eyes.

  The last few days had been beyond strange. But tonight was surreal. This type of stuff happened in the movies. Not to a CPA trying to lay low and mind her own business. It was one thing to have someone break into her home and ransack it. She felt violated, sure, but it wasn't completely unexpected in a big city like DC. The part that was now causing her breathing to accelerate to an unhealthy pace was the men shooting at her, and chasing her down the street with a loaded gun trying to kill her.

  Her phone dinged, and she dug through her purse to find it. Her breath caught, her body paralyzed.

  Have you missed me, Mia? Don't worry, we will be together soon.

  Mia looked as if someone told her the sky had fallen and wiped out her entire family. Her chest was moving a mile a minute, and Ben wasn't sure when he should start worrying that she might have a heart attack. Whatever was in the text she just received had her spooked.

  "More bad news from work?" he asked, uncertainty causing his chest to tighten. On the heels of her revelations about the strange happenings at her office, the mysterious text messages making her a nervous Nellie where causing him to wonder about what she wasn't telling him. And that was not acceptable, if he was going to put his ass on the line to help her.

  Her eyebrows squished together, and her mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  Ben pointed to her phone. "Was that someone from your work again?"

  She glanced at the phone, dropped it into her purse as if it was covered with slime and she couldn't get rid of it fast enough. "Uh, no…it's nothing."

  That was the second time she had gotten a text that turned her into a ghost. What is up with that? Maybe she knows exactly why men are shooting at her. Ben had a hard time believing Mia was involved in anything illegal, except that he barely knew her. He had a pretty good bead on people, and while Mia may have him questioning how much she knows about what was happening, there were no warning bells clanging in his head warning of lethal danger.

  Yet, anyway.

  A lot of shit had gone down in a short amount of time. Being shot at wasn't a new experience for him. He was immune to it after ten years of being a SEAL.

  This was all new to Mia, and the shock, worry, and fear had made her face contort and deep creases form across her forehead. Even with her eyes closed, he could see rapid movement under her lids. She was running through the events of the night, no doubt. That was dangerous, and probably the cause of the brisk rise and fall of her chest.

  She needed a distraction. Picking up the room service menu, Ben decided they were probably going to need coffee to get through the night. Once Lancelot and the other guy, Mason, returned with the file, the work would begin. Maybe he should get something to eat, too? No telling how long they were going to be at it, and he didn't want to miss out on getting food because room service had ended.

  "I'm going to call down for coffee. Do you want anything to eat?" Ben asked.

  Lifting her head just slightly, one eye popped open. She looked at him as if he was crazy. Without answering, she closed her eye.

  I'll just take that as a no, I guess.

  Ben ordered three burgers with fries, a club sandwich, two pots of coffee, and a slice of chocolate cake. That should take care of the guys. If Mia wanted a bite of chocolate cake, he might consider sharing with her. Grabbing the TV remote from the bedside table, he tossed two pillows against the headboard, and stretched his legs out on the bed.

  Tuned to some cable news channel, a guy in a suit was talking into a bank of microphones in the rotunda of the senate building. The banner at the bottom indicated it was the leader of the Senate Ways and Means committee, William Hutton. "Terrorists inside our country should be exterminated just like the cockroaches they are. They invade our schools, our factories, and our neighborhoods, scurrying around just out of sight, carrying diseases. They hate America and what we stand for, and want nothing more than to wipe us from the face of the earth. I will do everything in my power to ensure that these terrorist cells have all their funding cut off, that they have no way of recruiting our young people, and mow them down like weeds before they take root, grow wild and invade our this great nation."

  The talking head came on the screen, a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, as the senator was escorted away out of camera shot by his handlers. "Senator Hutton spoke on the floor earlier today about the pure evil of terrorist organizations. In particular, he mentioned the recent upsurge of violence in Colombia, where the Russian Revolutionary Army is said to have wiped out an entire village, killing women and children, and forcing the men to work in labs to make drugs to fund the group's terrorist activities. Sadly, a good portion of those drugs end up on US streets."

  Mia bolted straight up, and startled Ben. She moved to the end of the bed and stared at the TV screen. "Hutton…that's the name on the file I found in my office. It's his charitable foundation."

  Ben watched her for a moment, waiting to see if she said anything else. How did the Senator's charitable foundation fit into all of this?

  A knock at the door shattered the silence in the room. Mia sprung up and scooted around the corner of the bed. Ben stood and guided her behind him. If so
meone was coming in to kill them, it wasn't likely they would knock first, but it was probably better to be safe than sorry. Too many unanswered questions lingered around Mia and the file. The priority was to keep her safe.

  "Room service," a male voice bellowed from the hallway.

  Mia let out a noisy breath as if she had been holding it in her lungs for a year. Her head dropped and rested between his shoulder blades. Ben chuckled which prompted Mia to smack him on his upper arm.

  Wrapping his hand around the grip of his Sig Sauer pistol shoved in the back of his waistband, Ben opened the door. The waiter carried a large tray piled high with silver plate covers, two pots of coffee, an assortment of condiments, and small pitchers of creamer. Ben pointed to the desk and signed the bill as the waiter set the food down.

  Mia stepped over to the desk once the waiter had left and Ben had turned the deadbolt. "How much food did you order? Are we expecting the Army to show up?"

  "Nope," Ben said, lifting one of the silver lids. "Just a couple of Navy SEALs." The aroma from the medium-rare burger wafted through the air. Ben's stomach growled. He sunk his teeth into it, unaffected by the stream of juice that ran down his chin and dropped onto his plate.

  Sex, burgers, and killing terrorists…nothing better in the world.

  Swallowing, he chomped down on the burger, and glanced at Mia. She had poured herself a cup of coffee and was sitting in the chair, watching him with something between curiosity and…disgust? He used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth, and tipped the burger toward her. "You want a bite?"

  She shook her head, one eyebrow raised. Her loss. A few hours from now she was going to be kicking herself that she hadn't eaten something while she had the opportunity. Once Lance and Mason returned, there was a good chance there wouldn't be a crumb left on any of the plates in the room.

  Her phone dinged. She peered at the screen and winced, the pallor of her skin deathly white.

  He paused mid-bite, and narrowed his eyes. "Bad news?" he asked.

  "It's nothing," she said.

  Again with the nothing. This was the third nothing text she had received tonight, and each time she went a little more pale. Whatever was in the text message upset her. And was far from nothing.

  Frustration flared in his chest. Ben opened his mouth to speak, but someone rapped on the door.

  "Ben, open up."

  Lance.

  Ben slid off the bed, placed his plate beside the TV, and opened the door. Lance passed him, followed by another man. Dude was about as wide as he was tall, and Ben marveled that he was able to fit through the door.

  Shit, they sent the big guns in for this.

  "Mason Hunt," Lance offered by way of introduction.

  King Kong thrust his hand toward Ben. "Tink."

  "Humps." Ben said, referring to his call sign. He shook Tink's hand and wondered how many hours a day the guy spent in the gym lifting weights.

  Ben introduced Mia, and pointed out the food. Each man grabbed a burger and sat at the round table. Ben pulled up a chair next to Mia.

  Lance slid the file across the table. "I gave it a quick once over on the way back, but nothing jumped out at me. But then, it's not really my area of expertise."

  If there was something there that could explain what the hell was going on, hopefully Mia could spot it. But an hour later, after watching Mia yawn every thirty seconds, Ben called it a night. Mia had been staring at the same spreadsheet for a while, and Ben got the feeling that she had nodded off a couple of times. Too much excitement for someone not used to being chased and shot at…

  Holding the door open for the two men, they all agreed to start again in the morning. Ben put out the Do Not Disturb sign and made sure the door locks were secure. Placing his hands on Mia's shoulders, he rubbed at a knot at the base of her neck. "Tired?"

  "Very." She looked past him at the only bed in the room.

  Ah, the awkward question of sleeping arrangements.

  "You can take the bed," Ben said. "I'll take the chair."

  "I'm not going to let you give up your bed to sleep in a chair that is way too small for you."

  "It has an ottoman, I'll be fine."

  She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. "I'm smaller than you. I'll sleep there."

  An image of Ben's mother popped into his head. She would have his ass if she ever found out he made a woman sleep in an uncomfortable chair while he slept in a bed. His upbringing prohibited him from being anything less than a gentleman.

  "Not going to happen," Ben said, and grabbed a pillow off the bed, tossing it on the chair.

  Mia snatched the pillow up. "Then we both sleep in the bed." She threw the pillow against the headboard. "And don't even think about arguing with me."

  "Yes, ma'am," Ben murmured, amusement forcing him to smile. Mia had a feisty side that lit a fire in the center of Ben's chest and raced straight to his groin. How the hell was he going to sleep in the same bed and not touch her?

  He pulled his hand down his face, and scrubbed at the growth along his jaw.

  Pure hell.

  Ben handed Mia one of his t-shirts and a pair shorts. Entering the bathroom to change, she closed the door, and released a long exhale. What the hell was she thinking? The impulsive demand that Ben sleep in the bed with her had shocked her as much as him, if his wide eyes were any indication.

  "This is such a bad idea," she muttered, her voice low. She couldn't dismiss the attraction she had for him. Strong, protective, and muscles everywhere. He made her feel safe when fear should be forcing her in a corner, thumb in mouth like a baby. He was so handsome, too. But it was more than that. Underneath his firm, tough exterior, Mia had seen a man that was gentle, kind, and had the ability to calm her in the midst of chaos.

  "I can do this. I'm an adult with the ability to have a strictly platonic relationship with a man—even if he is a sex god among men and sleeping in the same bed with me." She wished she felt as strong as her words, but she doubted she could live up to her own convictions.

  She opened the door to the bathroom, and sucked in her breath. Ben had on a pair of running shorts—and that was all. The muscles in his back flexed, and she had to stop herself from running her tongue over every dip and groove on the way down to his perfectly round ass.

  "I'm so screwed," she whispered.

  Ben faced her. "Did you say something?" His eyes traveled the length of her body, slowly perusing every inch all the way down to her toes, and back up. When he got back to her eyes, he held her captive with a dreamy yet hungry look.

  "Ready for bed?" she asked. She cringed at the sound of her voice raising an octave higher than normal. Jesus, pull yourself together, Mia. You're not a horny teenager.

  "After you," Ben said, his arm swept across his body. He had pulled back the covers. Did he plump the pillows, too?

  Mia slid between the sheets, and pulled the covers over her. Ben sat on the other side of the bed, plugged his cell phone into the charger, and placed his watch on the bedside table before laying down on top of the covers.

  Wow, so chivalry isn't completely dead.

  A small part of Mia was sad that he hadn't been a little less gentlemanly. The idea of his body being inches away from hers, his heat warming her was deliciously wicked. And his scent—spicy, but also clean—was intoxicating. How was it possible to miss something you hadn't ever had?

  "Good night, Mia," Ben said.

  "Good night."

  Ben clicked the light off and darkness enveloped the room.

  "Ben?"

  "Yeah?"

  She paused, wanting to say so much to him. Tell him how she appreciated him helping when he barely knew her. Grateful for the help of his friends and teammates. Most of all, she wanted to thank him for saving her life. But she couldn't seem to say any of it without choking up. "Thank you," she managed to whisper.

  There was no answer and Mia wondered if he had already fallen asleep.

  "You're welcome."

  Mi
a watched as Ben walked to his car and drove away. Still reeling from the kiss they had shared, she wished she had asked him to stay. But he was right when he whispered to her that they had plenty of time to get to know each other better over the next week. The thought made her smile as she unlocked the front door.

  The house was dark as she pushed open the door. Running her hand along the wall, she flipped the switch. Light flooded the hallway. Broken picture frames and glass littered the area, as if a tornado had struck inside her home, and flung all her possessions around until they were strewn across the floor in a shattered mess. A shadow moved in her periphery, and she caught the glint of black metal.

  Gun?

  She darted into the living room to her left and crouched behind an overstuffed chair. There was no way in hell it would protect her from a gunshot, but it provided at least some protection while she figured out what to do. Her breathing was so loud in her ears, it made it nearly impossible to think. Where was the shooter? Was he still in the kitchen, or had he moved to another room?

  A shot rang out, a bullet hitting the wall not far from her. Should she make a run for it? Try to make it to the door?

  A hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled against it, trying to wrench away from her captor. Hot breath scorched her ear.

  "Calm down, Mia. It's Ben."

  Ben!

  Releasing his hold, she turned her head to face him. God, she had never been so happy to see anyone in her life. She wanted to throw her arms around his neck and hold him tight. Now wasn't the time for that. They had to get out of the house. Later she would show her gratitude…if they made it out alive.

  Grabbing her hand in his, he squeezed it, and looked into her eyes. "Where did the shot come from?"

  Mia swallowed over a dry lump in her throat. "The kitchen. I was standing in the hallway and saw the gun, so I ran in here."

  "So you don't know if the shooter is still in the kitchen?"

  Swinging her head from side to side, she said, "No, I didn't hear any footsteps, but it's possible he moved into the dining room." She pointed across the foyer to the entrance of the room opposite them.