by Linzi Basset
“Alex? Have you heard from Sean?” He asked by way of answering the call.
“Yes, but it doesn’t seem like the prince knows about Jaxon yet. I need your help, Rhone.”
“I’m listening.”
Alex briefly explained about the prince and his cousin’s trip to New York.
“I haven’t made any progress in uncovering the mole, so I want to keep our knowledge of this meeting secret. Can you set up a covert team to follow him from the airport? We need to catch them red handed when they take possession of the next consignment of sex slaves. It’s the only way we’ll get to the root of the problem here in the US.”
“You still believe the Sixth Order is involved?” Rhone asked.
“Yes, and that’s why it’s imperative to keep this operation under wraps.”
“Very well. I’ll see to it.”
“How’s Ethan?” Alex spoke in quiet tones.
“You know what they say about doctors being the most difficult patients. I think the nursing staff sighed in relief when he demanded to go home the moment he got stitched up and pumped full of blood. Luckily Paige is there to keep an eye on him.”
“And Jaxon?”
“Over the moon now that he’s back with his dad. He’s been keeping vigil by his bedside, day in and out. But on the other hand, he’s scared too.”
“That Khalid will find him?”
“No. Jaxon is positive that the prince will come for him. He’s more worried about what Ethan would do when he does. He’s scared for Ethan.”
“The difference is, this time he’ll be on our turf. It won’t be as easy to get rid of one of ours.”
“Exactly what I’ve been telling him, but he’s still stressed. I’ll keep you updated,” Rhone said as he walked toward the ops room to round up the team for the next assignment.
Rhone was already seated at the boardroom table when the team began filtering inside. The clink of cutlery on china sounded harsh against the dim sounds of traffic, a horn honking, an engine revving from further down in the street as Savannah, Rhone’s PA, fixed some coffee.
“Thanks, Savannah,” Rhone said so, watching her as she quietly left the room.
“What’s up, mate?” Keon asked as he slinked down in the chair.
“I know we agreed not to do anymore covert operations but I couldn’t say no to this one.”
Rhone relayed the discussion he’d just had with Alex White.
“It’s a no-brainer, Rhone. Ethan is one of ours and even though the human trafficking doesn’t affect him directly, if it means we can get that fucking prince locked up for good, at least Jaxon will be safe.”
“I counted on all of you feeling the same way,” Rhone said. “According to their flight plan, they’ll land at JFK in an hour. Keon and I will take the lead on this one. I want to be there to catch the fucker. I intend to take a little retribution for the torture he inflicted on Ethan.”
“We all want to, but we’ll leave the honor to you. Just make sure he can’t fucking walk when you’re done with him,” Jack sneered.
“That means Richard and I are staying in ops?” Max confirmed.
“Yes, Max. We have no idea where the rendezvous point is; therefore you need to scour the airport. Alex has forwarded coordinates of a tracer that Sean had managed to slip in Khalid’s hand luggage. Once you have access to it, make sure you don’t lose them. You need to guide us where they’re going. I don’t want them to know they’re being followed.”
“No problem, mate. Easy as pie.” Max and Richard left the room to set up the coordinates.
“Lance, you and Jack are with us, but in your own vehicle, should it be necessary for us to split up in two different directions. Hopefully Max will be able to hack into one of their phones so that we can have an audio of whatever discussion they have. This operation is about gathering information. We need to catch them when they hand over the merchandise. It has to be airtight.”
“Understood. Every little bit helps. Not that it will put an end to it. There are just too many fucking assholes lining their pockets on the misery of others,” Jack said quietly.
“We haven’t stopped looking, Jack, you know that,” Rhone intoned empathetically, aware of what their friend was still going through.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. He looked sad but resigned. “It’s been over a year, Rhone. We’ve not been able to find a trace of her since that container left on that fucking ship. What are the chances that she’s still alive?”
“Never give up hope, Jack. We haven’t and we won’t, until we find her. That’s a promise,” Keon said.
“I haven’t, mate. It’s just getting harder the longer she’s gone; especially for my parents. My little sis has always been their princess.”
The men nodded in response. Joanne Blackmore looked like a princess with her long blonde hair and pixie face. She’d been twenty-eight when she’d boarded a private aircraft which was supposed to take her to the Mediterranean, where she’d been appointed as a singer on one of the luxury cruise ships. She never made it there. She was drugged and ended up in a shipping container supposedly heading to Thailand.
“I want everyone to wear a bulletproof vest. I’m not watching another one of you getting shot.” Rhone looked at Lance. “Is the additional security detail in place around Ethan’s house?”
“Yes, I have a double team in place and they change shifts every eight hours. Louis is still protecting Paige, to and from work. Don’t worry, mate, we’ve got them covered. Even if that useless royal ass finds out that Jaxon is gone from the palace, he won’t be able to penetrate the shield we’ve built around Ethan.”
“Good. Very well, mates. Let’s lock and load. I want to be there before the plane lands. Keep your eyes and ears open. I don’t, for one moment, believe that the prince won’t have added detail on him as well.”
“You can count on him having additional protection. The asshole knows he’s vulnerable in the US. I’m actually surprised that he took the chance. How the fuck did he get into the US without being locked away? Isn’t he still wanted for Jaxon’s kidnapping?”
“Supposedly, but according to Alex, he even managed to get authorization to land his private plane, which has been prohibited since 9-11,” Rhone confirmed.
“Yeah, but remember, as royalty and their oil reserves, they have special access. I don’t doubt, however, that he has government officials in his pocket as well. Maybe someone in the CIA,” Keon growled.
“I won’t be surprised. If he’s connected to the Sixth Order, I’m sure they have connections in every corner of the US,” Lance guessed.
“Enough chit-chat. Let’s hit the road—or rather—the air.”
Within minutes the quiet hum of the Sikorsky S-97 Raider chopper indicated that they were airborne.
* * * * * * * *
“Heads up, Rhone. That fucking barn is lit up like the Pentagon’s security rooms,” Max warned them over the ear links.
“Keep low,” Rhone ordered as they leopard crawled closer to the buildings. They’d left their transportation hidden a couple of miles back.
“Fuckin clever to use an abandoned barn on a remote farm as their base,” Jack muttered as they continued to observe their surroundings.
“Yeah, and the way it’s situated, they’ll see anyone coming,” Lance agreed as he shuffled closer to peer through the high fence.
From the outside the secret base appeared to be falling apart with broken windows and doors. Rusty barrels of noxious chemicals were littered around the entrance, each labeled with skull and crossbones. Tall weeds grew between the stone boulders and the fence where they were hiding was almost falling over.
“This get-up looks anything but high security,” Keon grunted. “Ah, cameras, on every corner, just under the overhang of the roof,” he pointed out.
“Hm, I’ve heard about this kind of hideout. It’s generally the kind of base for drug manufacturing, which means no matter what it looks like above ground, it is undergr
ound where all nefarious activity usually happens.”
“Which means we can’t get any closer, Jack,” Lance snorted irritably.
“Afraid not, mates. From what little Richard and I have been able to uncover, there are, what appears to be, titanium walls. We can’t get past that. It’s probably blocking any signals to prevent hacking into their systems,” Max’s voiced his frustration.
“It also means we won’t be able to listen in to their conversation.” Rhone scrutinized the area through binoculars. “Max, is there any way you can override the outside cameras?”
“Hold on, let’s see what we can do.”
The swoosh from overhead drew Keon’s gaze to the sky where a flock of birds performed a beautiful choreographed dance, hundreds of sparkling souls swooping in the humid air. The beauty of their movements was a complete contrast to the dilapidated building below.
“Afraid not, Rhone. Everything is locked into their systems and we can’t penetrate that through the steel walls underground,” Max conceded reluctantly. Richard’s voice in the background rumbled. “Jesus, mate, you’re a genius,” Max crooned. “Rhone, Richard managed to hack into Khalid’s phone before they went underground and he activated his recording. We should be able to retrieve that once they come out.”
“Yeah, that is if they haven’t noticed it and switched off the phone,” Richard interjected.
“Fuck that. Positive thoughts, mate,” Max said excitedly.
“Let’s hope so. At least then we’ll get something out of this trip. Zip up, movement to the right,” Rhone snapped.
Everyone hunched lower as a black SUV slowly circled the barn and stopped in front of the door hanging askew on its hinges. Minutes later Prince Khalid and Borak appeared. His loud voice echoed over the distance.
“It seems the prince isn’t very happy,” Jack said, who understood Arabic. “It wasn’t their contact who met with them. He’s livid because he believes he’s being double crossed.”
“About time someone gets the better of him,” Lance interjected.
“He’s making a phone call, Max. See if you can trace it,” Keon ordered in a sharp tone.
“On it already.” Max’s voice sounded far off in their ear links. “It’s bouncing off a cell tower in upper Manhattan. Yeah, not surprised. It’s a burner phone. Keep talking prince; we need only a couple more seconds to track the location—ah, fuck! He’s ended the call,” he crowed angrily.
“Let’s get back to the vehicles. Stay on their ass, Max. We need time to get on the road,” Rhone instructed while they began jogging, hunched over, toward the clump of trees in the distance where they had hidden the vehicles.
Chapter Fifteen
Random thoughts flashed through his brain until it slowly came to order—a subtle awareness of who he was and what had happened. He breathed in slowly as he lazily began to analyze and compartmentalize them until it snagged on one singular thread. Jaxon. His son was home. He was safe; here with him in his house; where he belonged.
His eyelids fluttered as he slowly shook off the last remnants of sleep. He could feel the soft sheets against his skin and the morning light trickling in through the windows. He shed the last remnants of drowsiness from his mind, but kept his eyes shut to soak in the warmth.
Ethan stretched lazily, relaxed in the comfort of his own bed, his own room. He winced as the wound in his thigh pulled when he turned on his side.
“Let that be a lesson, Brodie. You’re unfit. He should never have been able to get past your guard with that knife,” he mumbled to himself.
His gaze snagged on the prone body of the woman curled up in the oversized wingback chair that had been placed close to the bed. She looked tired. He noticed the dark bruises beneath her eyes. He frowned. How long had he been asleep? Surely it hadn’t been more than a couple of hours?
Paige moaned and stretched her legs. His eyes followed the lean lines of her calves and thighs, naked to his gaze as the seam of the dress had shifted up over her hips while she slept. She pointed her toes and arched her back, emitting another soft moan. It amazed Ethan how graceful she was. How unaware she was of her own sensuality. In that moment there was nothing in his mind but her, watching her while imagining himself buried deep inside her hot, pulsing body. He still found it amazing how she’d managed to break through his defenses just by being who she was. Beautiful, sultry, yet with innocence that weakened his knees.
“Uhmm,” she yawned and stretched her arms above her head. Her eyes fluttered open. Their eyes caught. A comfortable silence stretched between them.
“You’re awake,” Paige said. She cleared her throat. A becoming blush spread over her chest when she realized how high her dress had moved. She pulled it down and sat up, rolling her head. Ethan watched her graceful fingers massaging the tight knot in her neck. “Ugh, I’ve got a crick in my neck.”
“It’s morning, my sweet. Of course, I’m awake.”
“Well, I was starting to worry about you,” she mumbled while combing her fingers through her tangled hair.
“What do you mean? How long have I been out?”
“Two days.”
Ethan didn’t respond. He stared at her. Maybe his body had needed the extra time to recuperate. He’d been pushing himself very hard the past couple of months.
“Why are you punishing yourself by sleeping in that chair?”
Paige stared with fascinated amusement at his one eyebrow hitched up. She always found it amazing just how sexy and hot it made him look.
“I wanted to be here in case you woke up and needed anything.” She rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms again, yawning.
Ethan’s breath got stuck in his throat. He’d never seen such a naturally sexy move. His cock stirred under the sheets.
Fuck, me. Down you eager bugger. I can hardly move my toes but you perk up like a coiled spring.
“I have a king-sized bed, Paige,” he stated the obvious. “From now on, you sleep next to me or in your own bed in that lonely room you’ve chose for yourself, but the next time I catch you in that chair, I’ll utilize my purple ropes to arrange you to my pleasure.”
“Ah yes, of course you will,” she sassed him. “How do you feel,” she asked quickly when he frowned at her.
“Like death warmed over,” he muttered as he struggled upright against the headboard. “Ugh, fucking hell. I feel as weak as a baby.”
“I’m not surprised. You lost a lot of blood and battled with infection for twenty-four hours.” She frowned at him. “Cauterizing the wound? What were you thinking? You know better than anyone that it causes infection nine out of ten times.”
“Would you have preferred I bleed out, my sweet?” He asked blithely.
“Of course not, but . . . oh, just forget about it,” she snapped at the dogmatic expression that crossed his face.
“It could've been worse,” Ethan waved off her concern. “Come now, Paige, stop frowning at me and give me a kiss. I need something to take my mind off the fact that I could’ve died.”
“Pfft,” she scoffed. “Rhone and Keon wouldn’t have allowed that to happen. Not to mention, Jaxon.”
“How is he?” Ethan’s heart warmed at the thought that he’d be able to look into his son’s eyes soon. That they were finally back together again.
“Sleeping, I hope. I had to threaten him last night to get him to go to bed. He’d been keeping vigil next to your bed since the moment you arrived. He’s dead tired.”
“Much like you, my sweet,” Ethan said with a tender smile. “Are you going to make me beg, Paige?” He asked with a lopsided grin.
“You . . . beg? This, I’d like to see.” Her tingling laugh caused a flush of warmth in his heart.
“I want a kiss, Paige. Now,” he ordered brusquely.
“Ah yes, there’s the Ethan I remember,” she teased but untangled her legs to sit on the bed beside him. He dragged her onto his chest until they were nose to nose, ignoring the sharp pain in his leg. He breathed in her sweet sc
ent, exulted in the touch of her hand on his chest, flesh to flesh. She’d penetrated deep inside his body, his mind. She had imprinted herself everywhere . . . without him realizing what was happening.
“That's good, my sweet. I would hate to think you’ve forgotten who you belong to,” he growled against her lips.
“Ethan, I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she said in a breathless whisper, their breaths mingling in the tiny space between their lips.
“Neither have I,” he negated her protest.
“And I don't belong to—”
His mouth covered hers, fusing their lips together to effectively silence her denial. His blood started to thrum through his body as she pressed her supple body closer against his, her lips blossoming open under his passionate demand. He moved his hands to cup her breasts. She moaned into his mouth. The rounded curves filled his palms; a perfect fit. His tongue glided sensually against hers while he thumbed her nipples until they beaded into taut nubs. He rolled the buds between his fingers, his mouth demanding more and with a carnal groan, she gave it her all.
“Ahem . . . well, it seems you’re completely recovered, Dad,” Jaxon's amused voice drew them apart.
Paige tried to scramble off the bed but Ethan would have none of it and pulled her next to him. He pinned her down with his good leg over hers and his arm around her shoulder.
Ethan stared at the tall teenager leaning negligently against the doorjamb watching them with a broad smile. He soaked in the vision and locked it in his memory banks for the first time in so many years. Suddenly, his emotional defenses were non-existent. He felt the tears burn behind his eyelids. He didn’t bother to try and keep them at bay. It was the first proper sight he’d had of his boy in seven years.
“God, you've grown so much,” he croaked. He held open his arms and Jaxon tore across the room. Before Ethan could draw in the air his body begged for, Jaxon melted into his form. He could feel Jaxon’s firm torso and his heart beating erratically within. Ethan’s hands folded around his son’s back, drawing him in closer. His body shook, clinging to Jaxon as both allowed the tears to fall freely. They were crying for time missed that was forever lost to them; to let go of regrets of the seven long years apart.