Delicate Beauty

by Nikki Bolvair

  Delicate Beauty

  By: Nikki Bolvair

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by: Ravenborn @ https://www.selfpubbookcovers.com/Ravenborn

  Edited by: Covey Publishing, LLC

  ISBN: 978-0-9977999-2-7

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Table Of Contents

  Prologue

  Mama

  Beauty

  On the Run

  Tornado Warning

  Captured

  Escape

  Doc and The Past

  My Father

  A Bond

  Fever

  Not Left Behind

  Stuck

  Dead or Alive

  Failure and Rescue

  Busted

  Book 2

  Rules

  Summer Games

  Prologue

  Myter

  The wretched snake of cancer took my wife. Now my only child, my daughter who was barely starting out in the world on her own, lay in a hospital bed wasting away, like her mother did. It was unbearable that the rare form of cancer manifested not once, but twice, to infect those I love. It felt like fate in its own twisted way was telling me I would always know death until the time came for it to claim me for its own. I was desperate to find a cure.

  I used all of my resources, my pull in the community, and searched out medical advancements, but each treatment failed with the tick of the clock.

  Frantic and running out of time, I bent the rules and exploited my FBI status to search for secret medical advancements by the government. I found only one, a new serum that could heal the sick and strengthen the body designed to make super soldiers. When I reviewed the logs to find out who led the medical advancement, my muscles bunched with fury, and hatred boiled my blood as the name caught my eye. General Ammon Steal. We were acquaintances. He and his wife knew of my desperation to find a cure. It wasn’t a secret. I asked him about any new advancements, but he shut me out.

  He said no to me and to my dying daughter.

  Now, I knew why because such breakthroughs existed. My next problem would be to acquire the H-15 serum.

  Outside of work, I loved collecting degrees. That was one of the many reasons the agency hired me. My abundance of skills. One of my degrees happened to be in chemical engineering.

  When my personal cell phone rang, it showed an unlisted number. “Hello?”

  “I have what you want. Now, what are you going to do for me?” Nero Kovach’s smooth voice filtered over the line.

  Shock ripped through me. Two weeks earlier, I sent my best agents on a mission to gain evidence against East End’s Nero Kovach. Nero’s involvement with narcotics had expanded to include human trafficking.

  “How do you know what I want?”

  “You want to save your daughter's life, yes?”

  “Any father would.”

  He laughed cruelly. “Ah, yes, but I hold the serum you so desperately seek.”

  At the possibility, my fingers clenched the phone. “How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”

  “You don’t, so let’s meet.”

  I agreed, smug that Ammon Steel didn’t know of the breach in his own facility. Nero penetrated Ammon’s walls with another team who was as desperate as me. When I received the H-15 serum, I wouldn’t only use it on my daughter; I planned to take it myself. Then offer it to the team loyal to our cause. I intended to make the H-15 serum better.

  If only, I hadn’t been double-crossed.

  Mama

  Trisha

  “Excuse me,” I mumbled when I accidentally bumped into the person behind me in line. I sucked in a breath when our bodies touched, and tingles raced up my spine to nestle in my heart.

  “What the hell?” he cursed, probably experiencing the same sensation.

  I edged away from him, surprised and confused. What was that? I twisted around and saw a tall, intimidating man. Definitely military with his muscles and ruggedly handsome features.

  “Sorry.” I took in his form before raising my eyes to meet his piercing, blue ones. His stare kept mine as his lip tilted up on one side in amusement. His brown hair, cut short with a little length toward the top, made me wonder if his hair cut was a mandatory military cut or a persnickety choice.

  “It’s fine,” he said as he dismissed my apology. Not bashful, his eyes roamed down my body before he met my gaze once more with a grin. He shifted his large form and gestured to his shoes. “It's these damn boots. They must collect a charge or something.”

  A smirk met my lips at his lame excuse, and I shook my head, kind of weirded out by the whole thing. “Um, okay.”

  I shifted awkwardly. In an effort to blend in, I mirrored most college students in the area with my dark, skinny jeans that fit like a glove. I paired them with the local college’s pride T-shirt, which I scored at the nearest Goodwill. Even with all my efforts, I still looked out of place. My inky, black hair and violet eyes didn't help. It was imperative I fit in with the other students and no one recognize me. Too late, though, after this hot guy checked me out.

  I promptly turned back around as the cashier called, “Next.”

  The man definitely looked like a love them or leave them type. If only I wasn’t on the clock, I could have flirted a bit until he gave me his number, but I didn't have the time today.

  Things weren't safe.

  I glanced up at the cashier and paid for my liquid lifeline as I collected my drink. I peeked at the man behind me once again. When his blue eyes met mine, I gave him a curt nod. Hopefully, he didn’t observe me to closely. I couldn’t take a chance he might be more than just a handsome military face.

  Trying to look like I belong there, I walked toward the back of the small coffee shop.

  With the ability to slip across the state line to get to certain places, Ashdown, Arkansas, close to the state boarders of Texas and Oklahoma, was the perfect city to setup shop. I scoped out this coffee shop the previous day, hoping to find a safe place to set up my secure laptop. The computer wasn’t one the agency issued; they would never allow me to take that secure beast home. This was my personal one. If I wanted to get Melissa out without anyone knowing, I needed to use my hacking toys opposed to my company issued hardware.

  Before sitting down at a table, I again glanced back at the man who’d caught my interest and watched him order his own magic cup of joe. When he grabbed his cup, I quickly looked away to avoid being caught staring once more, and admitted he was definitely nice to look at.

  I rested my shoulder bag along the back of my chair, sat down, and set up my laptop as I check out my surroundings. I faced with a clear line of sight of everyone coming and going all my exits. More importantly, I sat against the back wall. No one could get behind me.

  And, that's how I liked it.

  The hot guy also found a place to sit just across the way. The spot he picked was my second choice. I studied him as he did a quick glance around the shop before his gaze landed on me. I gave him a brilliant smile, hoping he wasn't my enemy, and he returned the favor. This was definitely not a coincidence. He watched his back as much as I watched mine. My eyes left his as I focused my attention back on the reason for coming to the coffee shop, but found it hard to concentrate. While the guy set up his own laptop, I couldn't help but wonder if he was doing the same thing I was: hacking. I needed to keep a close eye on him. He might not be as friendly as he seemed. He sported a laptop similar to mine, unique and specific to hackers.

  I glanced up, and my eyes widene
d when I found his piercing gaze turned to me. His blue eyes grew hard as his brows dipped for a second, and a brief gleam of doubt washed across his face before it cleared. With another easy smile, he acknowledged me. My stomach flipped and, I ducked my head, scolding myself.

  Get it together, Trisha! Paranoia doesn’t suit you. He might not be the enemy. And, you can’t leave every time you assume someone might be interested. It just looks like an invitation to meet up outside.

  My parents, FBI agents themselves, would be sorely disappointed in me if I ever found myself captured. My oldest sister, Aubrey, would flip a lid if that ever happened. Her husband, though, would bust her ass if she showed up in that current predicament. And Sarah, the middle child of us three, would probably give me a lecture. Ah, the joys of being the youngest.

  Dad and Mom worked at the FBI until Mom left to raise us, but we all grew up with a sense of awareness to the perils of danger. Some of us more so than others. Being the kids with secret codes was hard. After school, if someone came to pick us up, they gave a code, even if we knew them. If their code did not match ours it was time to run. Our code changed every month for safety reasons. I didn’t want my kids to grow up in fear. If, I ever had kids.

  I peeked back up. He concentrated on his laptop. Maybe, he was a secret gamer? Military guys do like their video games.

  To gain a better connection to my secure network, I had to find the closest tower to my location, and this coffee shop was it. It also acted as a natural place to set up my laptop. I had my laptop decked out with loops and back door traps that made my system virtually impenetrable and almost impossible to understand or figure out. Each hacker had their own language, like a signature, unique to that person. You’re given the basics, like a pen, but the way you use it is where the difference lies.

  I shifted to the side and turned on my computer, then I typed in my password and linked to my network. I was less worried about someone breaking my code than I was with someone realizing what I was doing. I brought up everything I needed on my screen. The schematics of the building where my partner had taken up residence while she carried out the mission. I lifted my coffee to my lips as I took in the secured mafia compound. It wasn't going to be a picnic to extract Melissa from the compound. I found several escape routes, but it would take both of us working together to get my partner out of her current situation.

  Until today, my biggest worry had been from the pain of a series of injections I received earlier this week at work. It had been unusual for me to get a green slip in my inbox stating I needed to head down to medical. When I asked about them, Myter said it was a new type of inoculation that was sent over. Apparently, an upgrade from the current one we typically receive. The shots were painful, and I wasn’t the only one who was still sore. Melissa Adams, my coworker and friend, still felt the pain in her shoulders, too. Even though she never said it, the way she rolled her shoulders every so often and rubbed her arm gave her away.

  Three days ago, Melissa went undercover on a cross-state mission in Haworth, Oklahoma to join two of our field agents who had infiltrated the compound of East End drug lord, Nero Kovach. While drug trafficking isn’t our agency's mission, we began to keep track of Nero’s gang once we suspected they expanded their business to include the selling of women and children. A recent informant indicated the most perverse individuals from our country and abroad were coming to view Nero’s new “acquisitions” sold at auction.

  Melissa and I reported directly to our boss, Edmond Myter’s boss, FBI Director Lindsay Phillips, currently. Our other two agents, both men, had come in from the field, after failing to find evidence against Nero. They determined that any more activity would be suspicious and raise a red flag within Nero’s organization. Phillips and Myter sent Melissa to infiltrate the group to find the women and children who were in imminent danger.

  Melissa was careful, smart, and strong. She was also beautiful, with a rack so large that men drooled when she walked by. Her vibrant, red hair was eye catching, and deep, emotional secrets plagued her aqua blue eyes, despite her efforts to keep them hidden. In fact, the first year we worked together I tried to find out more information about her by using my awesome hacking abilities. To my disappointment, I came back with more questions than answers. At first, her history seemed to be normal. But as I took a closer glance, I realized it was forged.

  When I notified Myter about my discovery, he answered vaguely and stated that Director Phillips was the one to recruit her. I questioned Phillips about it in her office. She promptly shut her door and turned on a frequency device to eliminate any listening electronics that could be operating in the space and asked me to take a seat.

  Hesitant, I followed her directions and sat in one of the two chairs facing her desk. She stated that Melissa’s background was altered for security reasons.

  “Why?” I asked, but was told to leave it alone and stop digging. If I dug any further, I would be fired. My heart hammered as I left her office only to run into Melissa in the hallway.

  Her dark eyes were weary as she said, “I will never leave you behind.”

  It was the one thing that allowed me to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  The first mission we worked on together was rough, but each time, we counted on each other. The more time we spent out in the field, the more I began to trust her. Eventually, we were as close as sisters. Even my own sisters were jealous of the closeness Melissa and I developed.

  Melissa followed her own set of rules as well as the law. She was always muttering, “Got to remember the rules.”

  I hoped one day she’d enlighten me on what those rules were.

  When this mission to invade Nero’s compound came up, Myter decided a woman would have better luck in gaining information about the organization’s activities. Melissa infiltrated the mafia, and the information she uncovered was too sensitive to reveal over any phone line. Secure or not. She wasn’t trusting anyone at this time except me and requested an extraction. I was doing her a favor by not clearing it with Myter or Phillips first. If Melissa thought she needed to get out, then I would get her out.

  Myter, who worked out of the office on this case due to family reasons, was second in managing it. His only daughter had cancer, and the last treatment failed. I was surprised he was still second in command on this mission. You would think he’d spend all his time with his dying daughter instead.

  Did Myter even care for his daughter? Or, did the guilt of not being able to save her weigh on him?

  I tugged my phone out of my pocket and read the time. Five more minutes until Melissa called. I glanced back to my screen and reviewed my highlighted escape routes. There were only three possible ways to get out of the compound safely. The third one was more challenging than the other two. While the other two options involved actual doors or windows to escape, the third option required climbing inside a chimney chute and onto the roof.

  Melissa would have to make sure the flue was open before she climbed inside. I shuddered as I visualized the tight space. I hated enclosed spaces and could never bear to be in them. When I was young, I’d gotten stuck in a small closet at my grandmother's house while playing hide-and-go-seek with my cousins. It took over an hour for my grandmother to finally find me, my throat raw from crying. At the time, in my young mind, I knew if my parents had been there, they would have found me sooner. They were FBI agents after all. But sadly, they’d both been on separate missions at the time and not around to save me.

  My phone buzzed on the table, and I quickly answered.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” I cooed. I sat back in my seat in an attempt to appear casual.

  “Hi, mama,” Melissa answered as she tried to play it cool. We had to pretend. We didn't know if other people listened in to our phone conversations. “Are we still good for dinner tonight? I'm hoping you'll make some chicken adobo. I love that stuff, even though it’s never agreed with me.”

  Melissa wanted to know if it was s
afe to leave tonight, and she’d just informed me we had a serious leak in the agency. She had a bad feeling. She wanted out.

  My heart thudded as I thought of which one of our trusted members of the bureau could have strayed into the shadows. “Of course, sweetheart, dinner is a must. And let's sear up some chicken adobo. We'll take Pepto Bismo to make ourselves feel better afterward. Where would you like to meet? I know it's always hard for you to get over to this part of town.”

  My fingers flew over the keyboard as I sent a secure message to her with her choices of escape. The message was encrypted to look like photographs of a set of Great Dane pups.

  “We could meet at the club on the north side of town called The Lost.”

  She wanted to meet on the north side of the compound.

  “That could work. Did you get my cute, adorable photo of the newest additions to our family?”

  Melissa chuckled. “They’re beautiful, mama. Just perfect. I love the trees behind them. Great place for them to run.”

  We’ll meet on the north side near the trees.

  “Yes, those pups love running when it's nighttime,” I agreed. “I always enjoy seeing the moonlight shine on the dock. It's so peaceful, calming, and soothing.”

  Three descriptions equal time. We will meet at three A.M.

  “Sounds wonderful,” she laughed, “I might have a hard time fitting into my favorite dress, but I think I can squeeze into it. Mama, have to go, but I'll be there for dinner.”

  “Love you, sweetheart, and you don't have to dress up for me.”

  We hung up, and I let out a heavy sigh. She was going out the chimney chute. I started to put away my laptop when I felt someone in my space and glanced up. My heart raced when the hottie I bumped into stood across from me with a frown.

  Busted.

  I clenched my fist around a knife hidden in my computer.

  “Yes?” I attempted to act normal as I eased my fingers around the handle of the knife. “Is there something you need?”

  He kept my gaze; his eyebrows furrowed as he studied me. I felt it. Like an electrical charge between us. A tug or pull of some sort.