The Shadow of Mudflap (A Foxtrot Team Novel #1)

by Christi Snow

  When he got to the door, it was locked, but with the tortured sounds coming from inside, he wasn’t going to let that stop him. He pulled his leg back and kicked the doorframe in, feeling the presence of the other guys behind him. They’d provide plenty of back-up for him.

  But as he barreled into the room, searching for danger, he wasn’t sure what that back-up would do for him. He took in the scene before him in complete and utter shock. A gorgeous brunette stood before him in stiletto heels, lots of leather, fishnet, and a short whip swaying in her hand. Obviously, she’d been using that whip against Benny, who was tied up to a chair with his back arching and his chest and thighs covered in red welts. But if the size of his erection was any indication, he was far from being tortured by that whip. No, he was definitely enjoying it.

  From behind him, he heard Derek mutter, “You know, the way you’ve been drawing that gun on naked people this week, I’m beginning to think maybe your dry spell is beginning to affect your predilections. You used to be much more tolerant.”

  Stetson’s chuckle was followed by, “This isn’t the first time he’s had his gun on someone naked? This week? What the hell are y’all doing over at Mudflap’s house?”

  “Well, fuck,” TC muttered, as Mudflap slid the gun back into the holster.

  Benny must have heard him too, because he lifted his head, his face a bright red, and this time not from the flogging. “Um, hi, Coach.”

  Mudflap felt sorry for the guy. His voice had cracked with embarrassment, but on second thought, he may just be that hoarse from all the screaming he’d been doing. Christ, this was unbelievable. Mudflap ran a hand over his face and glanced back at the splintered doorframe.

  “Stetson, can I borrow some tools so I can fix your neighbor’s doorframe?”

  Stetson smirked at Mudflap before turning to the girl. “Sorry, Brooklynn, I tried to let them know before he broke in the door, but he was sure you were killing the guy. We’ll get this fixed and you all can get back to—” he glanced back down to the trussed up Benny, “well, whatever.”

  The girl sent them all a scathing look and Mudflap was pretty positive she was wishing she could use that whip on the lot of them, but not in a fun way. Fuck, he really could have done without seeing this tonight.

  It took another hour before the door frame was repaired enough for the night and the guys could get back to their game.

  Of course, Riley started in first. “So Coach, I think I may understand the problem you have with Tech’s football program.”

  From the look TC sent to Mudflap, he would be lucky if he was allowed back in his own house by the end of the night. Fuck.

  Halftime Texting

  Mudflap: Ever been into anything kinky?

  (short pause)

  Shanae: What kind of question is that?

  Mudflap: Sorry. I just saw something tonight and while it was a bit horrifying at the time…

  Shanae: What? You can’t leave me hanging with that.

  Mudflap: Sorry, I haven’t gotten much sleep this week. My mind wanders to places it shouldn’t go.

  Shanae: Are you okay?

  Mudflap: Yeah, just tired. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.

  Shanae: That’s okay. Next time I see you, I’ll have to spank you for it, though.

  Mudflap: Groan. Now, I’m definitely not going to get any sleep.

  Shanae

  Oh four hundred hours and Shanae was sitting in the HQ conference room at LiFT, waiting for a debriefing. Something with the mission must have changed to call them all in so early this morning. Right now, they were waiting for Daniel to arrive.

  Glancing around the room, most of her team was seated, although no one appeared to be thrilled to be here. In fact, most of them looked to be half-asleep in the dim lighting as they sat in silence. Cord was fully asleep and actually drooling on the table where he’d laid his head. Nasty. She needed to remember to never sit on that side of the table again.

  They would have a hard time convincing anyone that they were all elite government agents right now. She took another long sip of her coffee.

  Finally, the door opened and Daniel strode in with Michael on his heels. She hadn’t seen him since he’d gone undercover at the fire department. The team perked up and Shanae fought a giggle when Cord surreptitiously wiped the drool off the table and his face.

  Daniel immediately jumped into the dissemination of the latest information. “Quirk has been working on decoding the information from the Intrepids via the microchip Shadowfox recovered. Included in that were several emails between the leader of the Intrepids and this man.” Daniel pushed a button and a photo popped up on the screen. “That is the Magistrate.”

  The blurry photo of the non-descript white man wearing a cap had been taken from a long distance. Shanae could walk right up to the guy in this photo and sure as hell never recognize him. “That’s all you’ve got?”

  “Yep, that’s the best photo we have of him, but it’s better than nothing. We think this may be the new leader of ALT and he’s been pressing on the Intrepids. Our sources tell us he wants them to take on more risk on behalf of ALT. Obviously they’ve been resisting.” He pushed a button and the burned out bar showed on the screen.

  “We think the firebombing at Mickey’s Bar was ALT’s retaliation. The good news is the Intrepids are not a group to forgive and forget and we can use this to our advantage. This may be our chance to get them to cooperate with us. We have our man inside— DEA agent, Slade— and we’re working other angles to approach the group.”

  Relief that Slade was safe flooded Shanae. She raised her hand. “I could do some investigating as Shay if we know where they’re hanging out now.”

  “Right now they’re keeping a low profile and regrouping, but we’ll keep that option open. Good idea, Shadowfox.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “In the meantime, we have something else that needs your attention on a personal level. We need to use your connection to the firefighter, Mudflap. There’s something interesting going on there and we need to find out what it is.” He redirected his attention to Michael who continued to stand behind and slightly to the side of their leader. “Michael, if you will explain…”

  Michael then continued to explain the events of the night before at the guys’ poker party with Mudflap, his gun, and the naked quarterback. Shanae held in the snort that wanted desperately to escape. That explained the odd text she’d received from Mudflap last night. She hadn’t been able to resist responding when she saw the unusual question. That was quickly becoming a real problem— she couldn’t resist the guy.

  Daniel said, “Shadowfox, what we need you to ascertain is why Mudflap felt there was a danger to the quarterback and why he was armed for such an occasion. It’s possible TC is simply leery after the last coach’s departure, but with Mudflap suddenly working for the team and armed, there seems to be more going on. Your job is to figure out what that is, what he knows, and who’s feeding the brothers information.” He shot Shanae a concerned look. “We assumed the shooting last week at the golf course was targeted toward you. Now that has been brought into question. It’s very possible Mudflap was the target. We need to know what he’s gotten himself mixed up in.”

  “Finally,” he flipped the screen to show a mound of maroon-dyed jerseys, “we have this bit of mischief— that we don’t think is mischief at all. The Aggie Militia is a new group in Texas. All our information right now says that they are still a rag-tag operation out to ruffle some feathers, mainly The Red Raiders. From our intel, the primary goal of this group is to ensure the National Football Title goes to Texas A&M…through any means necessary. We need to contain them and catch them before things escalate.”

  Andrew, the team doctor and assassin, asked, “Do we think the Aggie Militia is working for ALT?”

  “We haven’t been able to make that connection yet, but it’s certainly not out of the realm of possibility, since that’s the way ALT likes to work. We�
�ve made a connection between this group and this local man.” Daniel pressed a button and a good-looking, clean cut, muscular, blond man appeared on the screen. The photo had obviously been taken as he was leaving his gym. “This is a local lawyer named Riley Banks.”

  “He was at the poker game last night.” Michael studied the photo of the man.

  “Yes, we want you to exploit that connection if you can.”

  Michael gave a slight nod.

  “Shadowfox, we’re going to use your skills on this one, too. We need you to approach Riley at the Boots & Belles Gala this weekend, show a romantic interest in him, and see if you can get close enough to go home with him and search his house.”

  Her stomach clenched. She didn’t want to sleep with anyone besides Mudflap. She didn’t even want to pretend she was interested in someone else, even though that was regularly something she had to do for her job. What was up with that? She’d never cared when she dated Seth. The job always came first. Shock took her breath at that realization. This wasn’t good.

  In moments of weakness, like texting last night, she let herself consider the possibility of more with Mudflap. She needed to remember her job didn’t allow for relationships with civilians. Mudflap would never understand that sometimes her body had to be sacrificed for the job. Seth had known and even understood that it was just sex, but he sure hadn’t liked it. With a guy like Mudflap, she’d have to make a choice…him or the job. She needed to remember this when she was tempted by him.

  Daniel reached inside his briefcase and withdrew an envelope on heavy parchment. “Here’s your invitation. Andrew and Michael will both be there as back-up if you need them, but don’t make contact with them unless it’s absolutely necessary. The dress is formal. Take the normal precautions.”

  Normal precautions meant armed to the teeth with weapons that would never be discernible to a civilian, but were deadly in the right hands. Since this was someone who knew Mudflap, she could either go in deep disguise, or as Shanae, heavily made-up. Shanae thought deep disguise would probably be the way to go for this one. She didn’t want anything blowing her cover with Mudflap.

  Game 6 Results:

  Texas Tech (12): 68

  vs.

  University of Kansas: 14

  Week 7: When the Play Fake Doesn’t Work

  Mudflap

  Mudflap entered the house, flipping through the mail as he walked. It looked like some of TC’s mail was beginning to catch up with him, as he had several pieces in the pile. Mudflap threw it all on the counter, deciding there wasn’t anything urgent.

  He headed toward the fridge and grabbed a beer. As he twisted off the cap, TC walked in. Tilting his beer toward the mail pile, he said, “You have a few things in there.”

  “Okay, thanks.” TC began to sort through the mail. “Were you watching Benny and Ridge’s passing drills today?”

  Mudflap nodded. “They’re looking good. The two of them are really starting to develop a good rhythm.” Ridge was a walk-on freshman for the team and had quickly shown amazing skill as a receiver. Whatever Benny threw at him, he could catch.

  Mudflap began digging in the refrigerator for something to eat, but at TC’s prolonged silence, he glanced over at him. His brother turned pale as he looked down at the paper he held in his hand.

  Mudflap strode over and examined the paper. His heartbeat began to pound in his ears. “Drop it, TC. Don’t touch it anymore. There might be fingerprints or DNA on it.”

  The paper fluttered to the countertop, and TC clenched his hands into fists, obviously working to control the emotions rolling through him.

  It was a photo of a Texas Tech football helmet with blood and gore spilling out of it. At the bottom, in large letters was:

  GET OUT BEFORE SOMEONE GETS HURT!

  He gritted his teeth as nausea built, knowing those were probably animal entrails, but the thought of someone disemboweling TC or one of his players like that was beyond horrifying. He grabbed his phone and dialed the phone number the colonel had given him for emergencies. This qualified.

  Fifteen minutes later, the kitchen was taken over by two military techs, Colonel Barr, Corporal Timms, and another man Mudflap had never met but he was introduced as a consultant on the case. All of them wore civilian clothes, but even with that there was no denying their formal military bearing, especially when they conversed directly with the colonel.

  When they’d come in, they’d swept the entire house for bugs and then set up a descrambler in the kitchen to interfere with transmission just in case something was missed. Derek was out for the evening so they didn’t have to worry about being overheard. The techs bagged up the note and envelope, while the consultant interviewed TC.

  Colonel Barr frowned at the activity as he spoke to Mudflap. “The good news is this appears directed specifically at the football team and not the stadium in general. I don’t have to tell you how difficult an attack during a football game would be.”

  “No, sir, you don’t.” There were security measures in place at the stadium to prevent attacks and they’d been stepped up with the threat this year. But with that many people in one place, it was impossible to cover all possibilities. That job was made even more difficult because a major highway ran right beside the stadium and a parking garage and high-rise hotel were within sniper distance. With his experience, Mudflap knew those two places were the most likely place for a shooter during the games.

  TC came over to join them and the colonel went on. “We’re going to place civilian-dressed military police in an unmarked car on the street. They will shadow the coach as an extra layer of protection as he moves around town.”

  “What about my players?” TC interrupted. “Will they get extra protection?”

  The colonel shook his head. “Not at this time. I need you to do a quick briefing tomorrow morning at practice to let them know there is a general danger. Hopefully, they will stay more aware of their environment, but so far, we don’t have enough of a threat to outlay that kind of manpower.”

  “Goddammit! That is a photo of one of my player’s helmets. How can you possibly say there isn’t a threat here? Does it take one of them getting hurt before you do something to make sure every single one of them is safe? They’re just kids who want to play football. This is not what they signed up for.” TC’s jaw flexed as he worked to control his temper.

  Mudflap could sympathize with his frustration. The thought of any of those young kids getting hurt was appalling on the most fundamental level. “Colonel, is there a way we could work it so the bodyguards were at the practices rather than sitting out in the parking lot in a car? Or maybe even one of them inside and one of them watching the parking lot? That would provide at least a couple more eyes and guns if something does go down.”

  The colonel rubbed his thumb across his chin as he considered it. “I don’t see why not. Good idea, Davidson.” He redirected his attention to TC. “Don’t worry, Coach, we’re going to keep you and your team safe.”

  “You better. There will be hell to pay if one of these kids gets hurt and I will be right there at the front of the lynch mob.”

  Mudflap’s job was to make sure it didn’t come to that. God, the stadium was huge and the amount of people there on game day, mind-boggling. How could they possibly keep everyone safe?

  Halftime Texting

  Mudflap: What are you doing tonight?

  Shanae: Washing my hair.

  Mudflap: Ouch! Blowing me off, already? It’s a good thing I already have plans tonight.

  Shanae: Sorry, I just think maybe it might be better if we cool it for a while.

  Mudflap: Hmm, I think we should discuss this in person.

  (silence)

  Mudflap: You’ll be hearing from me soon, darlin’.

  Mudflap: In the meantime, I want to talk more about that spanking.

  Shanae: You’re incorrigible.

  Mudflap: That’s just one of my many charms. I like you, Shanae. Don’t push me aside just y
et.

  Shanae: Okay.

  Shanae: I like you, too.

  Mudflap

  Mudflap took a drink of his Scotch as he glanced around the crowded ballroom. How he’d gotten wrestled into being TC’s plus one for this shindig was still a puzzle. This was the last place he wanted to be, but TC was still reeling from all the events of the past couple of weeks. There hadn’t been any more threats or incidences, but Mudflap had to agree with TC. It wouldn’t be right to pull a random female into his world right now, even if it was just as a date to a Lubbock formal event. So Mudflap was stuck here instead.

  As the tuxedoed military body guards fidgeted next to him, he was happy to know he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable with the situation. The room was filled with the upper crust of Lubbock society, dressed in their finest. It was definitely not his, or these guys’ normal crowd. Damn, looking at the two of them, he honestly wasn’t sure they were old enough to even be drinking the alcohol they each held. That was the great thing about the military, they grabbed and trained them to be lethal while they were still young.

  “So are you guys permanently stationed in Lubbock, or are you just considered to be here on temporary assignment?”

  He knew they weren’t even related, but they were both young, with buzz-cuts, and physically fit guys. Add to that, their names were almost identical, and it was basically impossible for him to keep straight which one was which.

  Mark answered, or was it Mike? “This is considered a temporary assignment, but we both jumped on it. We’re out of the DFW office and knew Shadowfox was stationed out here.” The two men exchanged a sly look. “We’re hoping to catch a glimpse of her, or even better, catch her eye.”

  Mudflap frowned. “Shadowfox?”

  “Hell, yeah,” the kid continued. “Only the finest, sexiest agent the US govern—” His partner elbowed him in the ribs.

  “He doesn’t have that clearance,” Mark or Mike hissed to his partner, whose eyes widened.