Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mia (Kindle Worlds)

by Anne L. Parks

  "She's a colleague of ours, so it does concern me. Is there a way you could find out what the issue is?" Lance placed his hand next to his passport to get the man to look up at him. Tink had made it through customs without a problem, and was standing to the side of the agent, canon-sized arms across his chest. Tink was imposing as hell without even trying. When he did try, it caused mere mortals to quake in their boots. "We would really appreciate your help."

  The man looked up at Lance and Ben before turning his head toward Tink. Under any other circumstances, Ben would've cracked up at how wide the agent's eyes grew as he took in the mountain that was Tink.

  The agent gestured to another man behind him. This man—supervisor, if Ben was reading the patch on his uniform correctly—was tall and skinny, and sported the same wimpy-ass 'stache. Were men in Colombia unable to grow anything other than a worm over their upper lips?

  "These men are asking about the American woman." The agent tossed his thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of where Mia was escorted. "They say they are all together."

  The tall man looked at Lance with dark, beady eyes. "What is your business here?"

  "We're on a humanitarian mission."

  The man peered at all three men. They were not exactly the typical aide workers that entered the country. "What line was your friend in?"

  "The one at the end," Ben answered, pointing to the agent against the far wall.

  The man bristled. The muscles in Ben's shoulders tightened. Something was not right, and the tall supervisor knew it.

  If they hurt a single hair on Mia's head, I will unleash a fury they have never before witnessed.

  "Wait over there." Skinny man gestured to an area reserved for inspecting bags, and walked away. After a short discussion with the agent that dealt with Mia, the supervisor returned to where Ben and the other two men were standing.

  "It appears there were some issues with your colleague's paperwork. She is being detained until they can correct the problem."

  Lance shook his head. "All of our paperwork is the same. Since there doesn't appear to have been a problem with our papers, I don't understand what is different with hers."

  "I can only tell you what I have been told," the man said, but wouldn't look any of the men in the eye. "I suggest you make your way to the main terminal, and wait for her there. I'm sure everything will be cleared up shortly, and she will be along soon."

  "That's not happening," Ben said through clenched teeth.

  Tink stepped closer to the man, seriously invading the supervisor's personal space, forcing him to stare at the center of Tink's massive chest.

  "We'll wait for her here," Lance said. "Perhaps you can find out what the hold up is so we can get to our hotel. It's been a long day."

  Exhaling an exasperated huff, the supervisor stormed off. Ben watched as the man stopped in front of a closed door at the end of a hall. "I have a really bad feeling about this, gents."

  Tink nodded his head, his gaze never leaving the supervisor. "Something slimy is going down."

  "Let's go get our girl," Lance said.

  The three men rushed down the hall. Tink got to the supervisor, grabbed the man's upper arm, and tossed him against the opposite wall. The supervisor slid down the wall, and sprawled across the floor, no longer moving.

  Ben stepped into the room. Mia was sitting in a chair, her eyes wide with terror. In a chair in front of her sat the man she had been walking away with a few minutes earlier, a handful of Mia's shirt in his fist. That's when Ben saw where Shaggy's other hand was—in between Mia's legs.

  Ben wanted to kill him. Instead he ensured the man would have a painful recovery with months of rehab before he could use his arm again. Even then, it was doubtful the man would ever have full range of motion. The fucker deserved it. He'd think twice before molesting a woman again. Ben didn't want to think what might have happened if he hadn't gotten to Mia in time. She could have been another rape statistic.

  But you did get to her, and she's safe.

  Ben knocked on Mia's door again, a little more forcefully.

  The latch on her side disengaged, and the door swung open. She stepped back to let him in the room.

  "You doing okay?" he asked. Her hair was wet, and she had changed from the slacks and blouse she'd wore on the airplane into a pair of white sweatpant-looking things and a tight red t-shirt that accented every curve of her breasts.

  She dropped onto the corner of the bed, and picked up a towel laying next to her. "Yeah, I feel much better after my shower."

  "Good." He rocked by on his heels, not sure what to say to her. Should he bring up what happened with the custom's agent? Did she need to talk about it? Or was that a little too sensitive a subject to bring up with a guy she barely knew? They'd had sex the night before, but did that qualify Ben as anything more than a guy she'd slept with?

  Ben certainly wanted to be more than a one-night stand. He had already developed feelings for Mia that went beyond mere attraction. There was something about her that spoke to his soul, and made him want to discover everything about her. She had been thrust into a dangerous situation through no fault of her own, and had bucked up better than some men Ben had encountered. Men who claimed they wanted to be in that very situation, but would fail when the situation arose. Not Mia. Mia was taking everything these assholes were throwing at her, and not backing down.

  "The guys are going to be over soon so we can work a plan for tomorrow."

  Mia nodded her head and seemed a little more detached since they had arrived at the hotel. Perhaps the whole incident had been worse than Ben had assumed.

  There was a knock at the door. Ben let Lance and Tink in.

  "You doing all right, Mia?" Lance asked, taking a seat on the couch.

  Mia nodded, a small smile across her face. "I'm good." But Ben noticed the absence of the smile in her eyes, and it ripped at his heart.

  Tink patted her gently on the back as he passed by. "Yeah, she is…'cause she's kick-ass."

  That at least got a small laugh from her. That would have to be enough, for now.

  Lance relaxed into the back of the couch, and rested his foot on his knee. "Okay, let's get a plan together for tomorrow, and then grab some food from the restaurant downstairs."

  10

  The guys had been gone for about a half an hour. Mia had spent the time trying to watch a movie and failed. Tried to read a book. Also failed. Considered taking a bath, but decided she wouldn't be able to actually relax no matter how many bubbles. So, she opted for a shower.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled a brush through her still damp hair, and stared at the tv without actually paying any attention to what was on it. Her mind wandered to where Ben was, and what he was doing. Had he found CALICO yet? Doubtful. They were most likely still on their way out of Cali and into the mountains west of town. Tex had received information about a compound with a lot of activity, and the rumors were circulating through "people who have a pulse on things in that area" that the name CALICO had been interspersed with discussions regarding the mysterious new inhabitants.

  The last few days had been surreal. If anyone had told her that finding a file in her office a week earlier would lead to her running for her life from men with guns while going up against one of the most prominent and powerful senators, she would have laughed her ass off and considered having that person committed to the looney bin for observation. At the very least, she would suggest they stop using crack. But this was her life, at the moment. The only bright spot had been meeting Ben and developing an oddly close relationship with him in a very short amount of time.

  Ben.

  The last couple of nights with him, sharing so much of herself, had been the most wonderful moments of her life. Not just the sex—which was OMG amazing—but opening up to him about her life, her fears. And learning about him in the process. Without a doubt he was the most interesting man she had come across in a very long time. And he had absolutely no
idea that he was what most women would consider "the total package"—sexy as hell, strong but silent, surprisingly soft and caring—every cliche women claim to want in a man. That was Ben.

  She wanted to believe he was hers, and that they shared the same feelings. But did he? If the way he held her and spoke to her last night was any indication of his feelings, she would have to say definitively yes. The circumstances were unusual, and sometimes when life is tumultuous and extreme, feelings born out of pandemonium cannot be sustained once the chaos is gone, and life goes back to normal.

  Normal life for Ben was not anywhere close to Mia's life. She was an accountant who worked eight-to-ten hours a day behind a desk at a computer playing with numbers. In contrast, when Ben wasn't training for the worst, he was invading terrorist occupied lands, and bringing down the bad guys. Guns, evasive maneuvers, and combat versus calculators, evading tax implications, and calming clients.

  Yeah, not even close to the same.

  Could they be so different, yet cling to the things that they do share?

  Would Mia be able to do what Caroline had done and learn to accept Wolf had to keep secrets from her about where he was going and what he was doing? Did Mia possess the strength of character to watch Ben walk away from her knowing he might not return?

  Mia took a long, deep inhale. There were no answers to these questions. Only time would tell—it was her grandmother's mantra, and something Mia had heard over and over without fully considering the meaning. Sometimes the tried and true sayings of past generations still had teeth today—as cliche as they had become over the years.

  A knock at the door pulled Mia from her reverie. Must be room service with the breakfast she had ordered. Disengaging the lock, she opened the door a couple of inches. A body hit it hard, slamming Mia back against the wall. A bulky man, dressed head-to-toe in black, towered over her. The balaclava he wore covered his face, but she could still see his eyes—dark as night and cold as the frigid depths of winter.

  Mia scrambled backward. She had to get away from him, get to the door, and make a run for it. Run to where was the question. Didn't matter. Staying put was not in her best interests. Bending over, the man grasped Mia by the upper arm, hailed her up, and flung her on the bed. Flipping her onto her stomach, he wrenched both arms behind her, securing them at her back.

  "Where are the men you arrived in the country with?" His breath was hot against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. He had a strong accent—not Colombian—something that was even more out of place than an American accent. But she couldn't quite place it.

  "I don't know." Mia struggled to breath with the man driving his hand into the center of her back.

  Out of the corner of Mia's eye, another black figured moved around the bed, and stood at her head. He spoke to the other man—is that Russian? What the hell would Russian's want with Ben, Lance, and Tink? Or her? Mia had never had any dealings with Russians, except for professional hockey player clients.

  What was their involvement in CALICO and the Hutton Foundation?

  "I will ask you once more—where are the other three men?"

  There was no way in hell Mia was going to tell them what she knew—which wasn't much. Ben, Lance, and Tink had left that morning in search of CALICO. That was all she knew, but the asshole behind her wasn't even going to get that much out of her. "I told you—I don't know. They didn't tell me anything, probably in case some asshole showed up asking questions."

  The man behind her yanked her up. Pain shot through her arm and shoulder like a red hot poker that had been sitting in an open flame. Mia stifled a cry and worked to get her feet under her. "That is unfortunate for you. Perhaps a visit to the Komidarm will—how do you say—jog your memory?"

  "If they never told me anything, then I won't have a memory of it, will I?"

  The fist into her stomach pushed the air out of her lungs. Mia's knees folded and she sunk to the floor.

  Okay, not the best time to be a smartass.

  "Then you better hope Komidarm finds a use for you," he said. He placed his hand under her chin and forced her head up. "I would hate to have to slit this pretty neck of yours."

  Mia tried to swallow, but with her head held back so far, it was impossible. This was not a game. These could've been the same men that had broken into her house, and tried to kill her and Ben. Fear swamped her, perspiration coating her skin.

  Would she ever see her home again? Her family? Ben?

  Ben.

  He would find her. And save her.

  Please let him figure out I've been taken before they kill me.

  "Tex, you're on speakerphone," Lance said, as he drove out of Cali towards the mountains. "We have the GPS coordinates you sent. Are you sure this is the right place?"

  Ben, Lance, and Tink had rendezvoused with a man at damn near the crack of dawn who supplied them with guns, ammo, and explosives. There had been no way for them to bring artillery into the country, especially since they were supposed to be on a humanitarian mission. Even though they were in Colombia, that would've raised red flags they didn't need.

  "As sure as I can be." Tex said. "There's been lots of chatter through some of my questionably legal channels about some new residents in the mountains. According to my sources, a large plot of land was purchased by an outfit calling themselves CALICO. Best I could tell from land records in the area, the coordinates I sent should put you within four clicks of our mysterious friends."

  "Hey Tex," Tink piped in. "Do you know everyone?"

  "Everyone I need to. Good luck, gents. See you on the other side."

  Ben loaded his weapon, and placed extra ammo in a pocket on his kevlar vest. No telling what they would find. Hope for the best, but always be prepared for the worst.

  The paved roads of the city ended as soon as they started the incline into the mountains. Dirt, single-track roads cut through the landscape, and wound around the mountain until they sat on the far side from the city. Lance pulled the Jeep off the road behind a clump of trees.

  Lance led the team through the trees, losing the GPS signal a couple of times, but able to pick it back up when they broke through the trees. If Ben hadn't been intent on finding the men who were trying to kill Mia, he might have actually taken a moment or two to appreciate the surprising beauty of the Colombian countryside. Maybe later, when all of this was over, he and Mia could return and take in the sights.

  His thoughts returned to the customs agent with his hand between Mia's legs, feeling her up.

  Maybe not.

  Coming out of the trees, they hit an area that had been cleared by men, not nature. The three men walked the perimeter of the eight-foot high cement and stone wall. Ben took point at the corner, and peered around to gauge the situation.

  "Have eyes on four armed tangos. No confirmation on a guard shack, but the gate is a metal cattle guard type, non-mechanical, swings out to the left."

  Lance engaged the gun safety, holstered it, and pulled a knife from its sheath on his vest. "Okay, knives only, no guns. Silent ingress."

  Ben replaced his gun on his vest, and readied the knife in his grip. Taking a quick look around the corner again, he motioned to Lance and Tink that the four armed guards were positioned on either side of the gate. "Go!"

  The men darted around the corner. Ben and Lance grabbed the first two men from behind, and dragged them back around the corner. Tink disabled one man with a blade to the gut, grabbed him by the kevlar vest as he fell, and punched the other guy in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. Taking hold of the man's boot, he dragged both around the corner and out of sight of anyone inside the gates, or someone driving up.

  Lance and Ben each made quick work of their men—shoving the knife blade in the base of the skull and scrambling the brain—and then dumping them on the ground at their feet. Tink noodled one guard, stepped over the dead man, and noodled the other man while he squirmed in pain from the knife wound in his belly.

  Ben glanced around the corner. "Cover
me," he said to Lance, and headed back toward the gate. No one else there. No indication that anyone had seen what had transpired. "Clear," he called to his teammates. Unlatching the gate, he swung it open enough for the three men to gain entry onto the grounds.

  Ducking down, Ben led them along the wall behind a line of trees so they could assess their surroundings. There was one main building in the center of the compound, two stories, balcony across the front. Door in the center. Armed tangos walked the perimeter. By Ben's count, a total of six men with guns. They were dressed in all black BDU's with a red and gold patch on the upper left arm.

  "They look like soldiers," Tink muttered.

  Taking his binoculars from the pocket on his vest, Ben zeroed in on one of the men. They were outfitted with tactical vests similar to the one Ben had on. He focused on the patch. Black and red with a gold, two headed eagle, a crest in its talons had a skull and crossbones. The gold lettering circled the outer edge of the patch: Россия Pеволюция Aрмия.

  Ben groaned. "Fuck me." He lowered the glasses and leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes. "Russian Revolutionary Army." Ben had been never encountered the RRA during his time on the west coast. They were usually sent on dets to the Middle East. But he had heard of them and been fully briefed by the CIA on the terrorist organization during the past week. They were a group of radicals who longed for the return of Marxism in their motherland, but had taken up residency in Colombian to train. Their main source of income was the trafficking of drugs and underage girls on the sex market.

  "Holy shit, man," Tink groaned. "How the fuck did your girlfriend end up getting involved with these assholes?"

  Taking a look around the compound, Ben took in the landscape. There were three outbuildings. Two looked like dormitories. A group of men broke through the doors, one man yelling in Russian at them as they formed up in the dirt courtyard.