The jet bounced once before settling on the runway and it jarred Jordyn from her memories of long ago. The pilot steered them across the tarmac into a hangar, and someone closed the huge doors behind them. Everyone stood, and aside from Devon and Boomer, gathered their duffel bags and gear. She raised an eyebrow at Devon.
“Boomer and I are heading home,” he explained. “Ian, McCabe, and Romeo are sticking with you for now.”
She nodded, realizing that “Romeo” must be Mancini—the moniker fit her earlier impression of him. Clearly, Carter and Trident had planned this out. She’d go along with the plan until she found out who was behind this mess. Once she knew who she had to kill for assassinating two good men, she’d return the favor, but not before she tortured the bastard. Then Carter would be out of her life again. Too bad he’d still pop up in her dreams without warning.
Chapter 4
Eight years ago . . .
Jordyn tapped on her thigh as she waited for Gene McDaniel to call her into his office. Her mind was still reeling over how she’d ended up sitting in a covert US agency’s headquarters instead of a jail cell. She’d been caught red-handed stealing jewels from some rich bastard’s safe during a huge party at his house in California. She hadn’t been invited, yet had found a way to crash it undetected—or so she’d thought. Someone else had been targeting the same safe, but she was sure it was for a completely different reason.
The man who had interrupted her thievery had helped her escape when things went downhill fast after a rival of the arms dealer had also crashed the party and started shooting up the place. However, instead of letting her loose after there was no longer a threat, the man had kidnapped her—complete with handcuffs and a blindfold—and driven her to God knew where. In an underground parking lot, he’d handed her off to Gene McDaniel—head of Deimos, whatever that meant. McDaniel had interrogated her for hours, confirmed her information, and then given her two options—prison or come work for his agency. It had been a no-brainer, so here she sat, still unsure of exactly where that was.
The office level she was now on was a lot cheerier than where she’d spent the past two days and nights, despite the armed guards standing in the hallway. While it hadn’t been a jail cell, the room had no windows and only two doors, one of which opened into a bathroom. She’d been given clean clothes and whatever food and toiletries she’d asked for. A TV had been her only source of entertainment until one of the guards had brought her a couple of paperbacks and magazines. The only thing they wouldn’t give her was an escape route.
Escaping had been something she’d wanted to do until McDaniel had come to see her last night after she’d eaten her dinner. He’d handed her the employment contract she was expected to sign. After reading through the entire thing, twice, she’d agreed to become a spy for the United States with an annual salary that had her counting the zeroes several times to make sure she wasn’t imagining things. Her signature on the dotted line had ended her life of crime and started a new life, which was still a mystery to her.
The door to the office opened, and McDaniel gestured for her to enter his lair. Swallowing hard, she stood, and on wobbly legs walked into the room. It was large enough for a desk, conference table, and a sitting area that could pass as a living room. Sitting in a wingback chair was a man she hadn’t seen before. He wasn’t the agent who’d brought her here nor was he one of the rotating guards she’d met. His elbows leaned on the chair’s arms and the fingers of one hand ran over his lips as he stared at her, giving no indication of his assessment. He appeared to be a few years older than her, but not by more than five or six. His long, dirty blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his blue eyes were sharp, not missing a thing. A black T-shirt and snug, faded jeans did nothing to hide the well-defined physique underneath them. He was definitely the hottest thing she’d seen in years, but it went beyond his looks—which she was sure had women panting over him all the time. It was his commanding presence. The air around him seemed to crackle with a combination of sexual energy and a deadly aura. She was sure he could kill someone with a flick of his wrist and not think twice about it.
His eyes narrowed, and she realized she had stopped in the middle of the room and was staring at him. McDaniel had already taken a seat in another wingback chair, leaving her to pick from one of the two loveseats in the sitting area. Neither of the men said a word as she sat down, and Jordyn fought the urge to squirm under their scrutiny. Her palms were sweating, but she didn’t want to show she was nervous by wiping them on her jeans.
“My name is Carter, Ms. Alvarez,” the younger man rumbled, suddenly. The sexy timber of his voice shot through her and made her wonder what it would be like to have him talk to her like that while they were naked in bed. “I’ll be training you over the next few months. Twelve hours a day, seven days a week. By the time I’m done and convinced you can do the job, you’ll know how to defend yourself in any situation and how to kill someone in more than a dozen different ways, among other things. From what Mr. McDaniel here says, you’ve already mastered the art of disguise, pickpocketing, and breaking and entering—all useful qualities. I’ll still be testing those skills and adding to them. Any questions?”
Jordyn swallowed hard. She’d known a large part of the job included assassinations. Did she have it in her to kill someone and walk away? Her father hadn’t had a problem killing her mother, but then again, maybe he had since he'd put a bullet in his own brain shortly after murdering his wife.
“Is Carter your first name or last name?”
His eyebrows shot up. “That’s the first question you have?” She nodded and he barked out a laugh. “Well, then, I’ll use the answer to that as an incentive for you to work your pretty little ass off. So if you have no other questions, why don’t I show you around? Your apartment in Los Angeles has already been packed up and delivered to the cabin you’ll be staying in here.” He ignored her dropped jaw and continued. “Your car is getting a tune up and having some features added to it. I’ll take you over to the garage and the mechanics can fill you in. Before we do all that, though, I’m getting kind of hungry. Let’s go grab some lunch and have a chat. I’m sure a few more questions will come to your mind by then.”
A half hour later, they sat down at a table in the back of a little diner not far from the compound where she would spend the next few months training with the man sitting across the table from her. On the ride there, she’d discovered they were still in California—albeit much further north than Los Angeles. The town of Bingham was about twenty minutes from the Deimos training headquarters, and Jordyn wondered if the small population of the tiny town knew they had a bunch of covert operatives driving around.
“Hi, Carter. Nice to see you again. Does this mean you’ll be back in town for a while?”
Jordyn looked up to see a blonde waitress practically drooling over the man and totally ignoring her. Embroidery on her red shirt announced her name was Susan, and Jordyn was surprised the woman knew Carter’s name. Didn’t spies use aliases or something?
“Hi, Suzy-Q,” he responded while grinning at the woman, who blushed at the nickname. “Nice to see you, too. I’ll be working locally for a bit, so I’ll be stopping in for your mom’s great cooking whenever I can.”
Jordyn snorted which drew his attention. His eyes narrowed. “Problem, Jordy?”
“It’s Jordyn,” she corrected. “And there’s no problem, but I thought this was going to be a working lunch.”
He studied her for a moment before facing the blonde again. “My coworker is correct. We have some business to discuss. I’ll have the turkey club with avocado, hold the mayo, and an iced tea. Jordy, what would you like?”
“Jordyn,” she automatically said while gritting her teeth. The man was purposely pushing her buttons. “I’ll have the same with the mayo, Suzy-Q.”
Annoyance flared in the waitress’s eyes at the nickname coming from her mouth, and that made Jordyn feel much better. Score one for me. She grab
bed the menu from Carter’s hand, added it to her own and shoved both of them at the waitress. With a withering stare that didn’t affect Jordyn at all, the blonde spun on her heel in a huff and stormed toward the kitchen.
The nervousness Jordyn had been experiencing earlier was fading fast as her confidence returned along with a heavy dose of aggravation. She’d been in quite a few jams and anxiety-filled moments in her illegal career as a jewel thief, and had gotten out of every one of them basically unscathed. She would survive this jackass, too. He wanted to push her buttons? She was more than happy to give it right back to him. “So, Double-O, tell me about yourself.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Double-O?”
“Yeah, Double-O, as in James Bond. Don’t we get a secret number or something like that so we don’t have to use our real names? What about a secret handshake?”
Carter shook his head and chuckled. “Oh, I’m definitely going to get back at McDaniel for sticking me with you.”
Insulted, Jordyn frowned. “How did you get stuck with me? And how do we get you unstuck? If you don’t want to train me, I’m sure there’s someone else who can.”
He remained quiet for a moment when Suzy-Q returned with their drinks, but never took his eyes off of Jordyn. For the second time in a little over an hour, she fought the urge to squirm under his calculating stare. When the waitress left again, Carter leaned forward, his arms crossed on the table. “I think I’ve changed my mind, Jordy. I don’t want to get unstuck from you. I think training you is going to be the most fun I’ve had in over a year, and I’m looking forward to it.”
“For the last time, it’s Jordyn. And I’m glad to know one of us is looking forward to it,” she snarked before taking a sip of her tea. She grimaced at the taste. Damn it. Didn’t anyone put sugar in their iced tea in California? She reached over and pulled two sugar packets from the little, white caddy next to the salt, pepper, and ketchup. After adding them to her drink, she took another sip. Not great, but better.
Her gaze met Carter’s. “Fine, you’re training me. When do we start, and how long before it’s over so I can get rid of you?”
* * *
When McDaniel had called him in to train someone, Carter hadn’t expected this fiery woman who had conjured up images of her under him in his bed since the moment she’d walked into his life. But for the next six months or so, he was her instructor, and that meant she was hands off. There were going to be a lot of cold showers in the near future for him. Thankfully one of the private clubs he liked to frequent was less than an hour away. Whenever he got a chance, he’d be able to lose himself in a soft submissive for a few hours before returning to the training compound . . . and Jordy. Whether she liked the nickname or not, that was what he was going to be calling her from now on. Jordyn was too stiff for him. Jordy made her his . . . for now.
He studied her, just as he’d done in McDaniel’s office. Five foot six, about 125-130, beautiful olive skin, long, black hair pulled up in a ponytail, and the softest brown eyes he’d ever seen, yet she was sassy and bratty, just the way he liked his women. He wondered what Ms. Alvarez would say if she knew about his sexual proclivities. Well, now was not the time to find out.
Glancing around, he made sure there was no one within earshot. “When do we start? First thing tomorrow morning, we’re going for a five-mile run. Then, after breakfast, we’ll see how you respond when someone attacks you. From there, I’ll be able to figure out how much self-defense training you need. After lunch, and a shower, not necessarily in that order, comes firearms training. By the time you’re released out into the great big world again, you’ll know how to operate, strip down, and reassemble every gun on the planet. And all of that is just for starters. Add in international geography, politics, customs, languages, military, infrastructure, economy, demographics, et cetera. How to eliminate a target and think on your feet if a situation changes. You’ll be proficient at hand to hand combat, knives, and any other object that can be used as a weapon. You’ll also know how to torture someone for information.” He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Hmm. Let’s see, I’m sure I’m forgetting something in there, but those are the basics. Any questions?”
Her mouth gaped open. He could almost see the wheels spinning in her mind. “Holy shit. How long is this going to take? And is all that really necessary?”
Leaning forward, he stared at her with hard, deadly eyes. “Necessary? Yes. How long? You’ll train until I think you’re ready. It could be three months; it could be three years. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to send you out before you’re ready just to get yourself or another operative killed. So buckle up, Jordy, it’s going be a bumpy ride.” He smirked. “But I’ll let you sit on my lap if you want to.”
“Bastard,” she muttered before straightening her back. “All right, so when are you going to tell me if Carter is your first or last name?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Since all you have to do is ask anyone else at Deimos, I’ll tell you now. It’s my last name, but I use it as my first when I’m undercover.”
“So what’s your real first name?” she asked before taking another sip of her drink. Her lips wrapped around the straw, as she sucked the liquid up, had his cock twitching again.
“T.—as in the letter of the alphabet.” There was only one person at Deimos who knew what it stood for—Gene was the one who’d eradicated it from every public record at Carter’s request.
Her eyes narrowed. “T.? What kind of name is that?”
“The kind you have when you hate the name you were given at birth.”
“Hmm. Okay, now I’m definitely curious.” A lazy smile spread across her face. “I’m going to have to do some research and find out what it is—track down your birth certificate or something.”
A bark of laughter escaped him. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s never going to happen, so don’t waste your time.”
“Why not?”
“Because my given name was wiped clean from every database on earth when I came to work for Deimos, and there’s nothing you can do that will make me tell you. Let’s just say I hated it growing up and we’ll leave it at that, okay?”
Jordyn shook her head and got a determined look in her eye, and damn if it didn’t turn him on. Then she licked her lips and he had to bite back a groan. Crossing her arms in front of her on the table, she leaned forward. “What if I guess it? Will you tell me if I get it right?”
He mimicked her last actions, then lowered his voice, adding a seductive lilt to it. “What will I get out of it if I do?”
A blush spread across her cheeks, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she reached into the pocket of the sweatshirt she’d worn over her V-neck shirt and jeans, and pulled out a black, leather object, holding it up for him to see. “Maybe I’ll promise to give you back your wallet. In the meantime, let’s eat and get this show on the road.”
Even though he was shocked, Carter couldn’t help the grin he was now sporting, nor the hard on. The woman was good at pickpocketing, he’d give her that. And now he couldn’t wait to find out what else she was good at.
Chapter 5
Present . . .
Carter steered the SUV onto the long drive leading to the stone castle surrounded by the picturesque hills and valleys of Scotland. Even though it was damp, overcast, and the beginning of November, the temperature was hovering around fifty-eight degrees—about ten degrees higher than average. The huge fortress was now home to Steel Corps, a covert team once sanctioned by the US government. Through very little fault of their own, the members of the team were now branded as traitors and not allowed to step foot on American soil. While there were no international warrants out for their arrest and extradition, thanks to the deal their former master sergeant, Fisher Jackson, had made with his superiors, the team was still persona non grata. But Carter and Ian knew better—they knew Mic better.
Army Staff Sergeant Bea “Mic” Michaels had been the team leader under Jackson. Carter and Ian had kn
own her in Iraq where she’d started in Army Intelligence before the spy had suggested to her superiors she would be an asset in terrorist interrogations. And he hadn’t been wrong. After she proved herself there, in more ways than one, he’d passed her file onto Jackson when the man had been putting together his new black ops team. Mic, Carter, Ian, and a few others had worked together in the early days of both Steel Corps and Trident Security to take down a large domestic terrorist organization. The New Order had been a bunch of neo-Nazis planning their own Oklahoma City-style bombing at several football stadiums in the US as well as in the UK, France, and Germany. Thankfully the good guys had stopped it in time.
Parking next to several other vehicles in the circular drive, he cut the engine. From the seat behind him, Jordyn gaped. “Um, when you said ‘Castle Steel,’ I didn’t think you meant a real freaking castle. Holy crap, it’s huge.”
Carter chuckled, “It is that. Come on, I’m sure they already know we’re here.”
Opening his door, he got out and stretched, while Ian, McCabe, Mancini, and Jordyn did the same. The weather was cool and damp, and he was glad he’d grabbed Jordyn a heavy jacket in one of the airport shops, despite her resistance. While the rest of them had known they might be stopping in Scotland and had packed accordingly, she’d been dressed for much warmer weather.
“Don’t you ever fucking call before you show up uninvited, asshole?” Chris Jordon asked as he emerged from the garden hedges on the east side of the castle, his sidearm secure in its holster on his hip. The pissed-off glower he wore and ugly tone of voice weren’t unexpected. To say he wasn’t a fan of the spy was a huge understatement.
Absolving His Sins: Trident Security Book 7 Page 4