Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Note from the Publisher
Dedication
Trademarks Acknowledgement
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Cheyenne Meadows
Reviews
A Silver Publishing Book
Blue Blood's Trifecta
Copyright © 2013 by Cheyenne Meadows
E-book ISBN: 9781614959304
First E-book Publication: May 2013
Cover design by Lee Tiffin
Editor: Jason Huffman
All cover art and logo copyright © 2012 by Silver Publishing
Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
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All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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This book is written in US English.
PUBLISHER
www.SPSilverPublishing.com
Note from the Publisher
Dear Reader,
Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.
Please remember that the only money authors make from writing comes from the sales of their books. If you like their work, spread the word and tell others about the books, but please refrain from sharing this book in any form. Authors depend on sales and sales only to support their families.
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Lodewyk Deysel
Publisher
Silver Publishing
http://www.spsilverpublishing.com
Dedication
For those who believe in true love, in whatever form it happens to take.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Army Ranger: Department of the Army
H-60 Black Hawk: Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation
Boeing 757: The Boeing Company
Ann Landers: Margo Howard Primary Trust
Chevy Nova: Chevrolet Division of General Motors
Styrofoam: Dow Chemical Company
Glock: Glock, Inc.
Kevlar: E. I. du Pont de Nemours and Company
Chapter 1
"I swear you jinxed me." Ryan sipped from his soda before setting the glass back down, his eyes locked on Lark the entire time. His younger beloved sister, who rattled his cage now and again, really did it that time. Of all his siblings, he enjoyed Lark the most and made a point to make room in his busy schedule to spend time with her whenever possible, even if she just happened to ruin his present social life for the past three weeks.
A wicked grin appeared on her face. "Hey, don't blame me because the only women you've dated recently had biological clocks ticking louder than Big Ben." Wrapping a spaghetti noodle around her fork, she delicately placed it in her mouth.
He grimaced at the reminder. The last four women he'd dated proved to be huge disasters as they all possessed one common denominator—they wanted a baby daddy and now. He couldn't run fast enough from the imposing threat of immediate commitment and impending fatherhood.
"Yeah, but you said it beforehand, making you responsible for this hex or… curse or… whatever it is." Stabbing a chunk of chicken, he took another bite.
She snorted. Bright blue eyes matching Ryan's danced with amusement. "I didn't find these women for you, bro. You did that all on your very own."
Her wide smile pricked his already irritable mood. "It's not funny."
Lark waved a hand dismissively. "Sure, it is. After all, you called Mom and told her about Bryce and me before I had a chance to do more than come up for air. Ever since, she's been harassing me about weddings and baby showers to the point where I want to either pull my hair out or move to Siberia."
His lips twitched. Served her right for all the times she snickered at him and egged her mother onward in a nearly obsessive quest for grandchildren. Why their doting mother chose him over the other three boys to nag incessantly, he couldn't say. More than likely the reason had to do with his proximity to his parents whereas the others were scattered like the four winds. Hell, more than once he considered returning to active duty as an Army Ranger just to avoid the tedious questioning.
"Poor baby," he tossed back, thoroughly enjoying the fact Lark sat on the hot seat at the moment.
She flipped him off.
He chuckled at her gesture, so like the 'never say die' baby sister he always knew. For as long as he could remember, she didn't let a little thing like properness and ladylike manners get in her way. Instead, she tackled the world, intent upon proving every male chauvinist wrong, and climbed the mountain of success each and every time. She certainly kicked his ass a couple of times growing up as kids. Even now, if she tried, he'd place money down on a draw between them. Her cheerleader background and petite frame gave her quickness along with deceptive strength to counter his sheer power and size.
"How's Bryce?" he asked, changing the subject while finishing the last of his late night supper.
She sighed longingly. "Wonderful."
He shook his head. "Love if I ever saw it."
"Yep." She didn't argue in the least, only slurped on her water.
A twinge of jealousy smacked him in the chest and stuck tight. Always before, he thought the bachelor life held everything he wanted and then some. Then he began to notice the expressions of bliss and sheer happiness on the face of his sister who recently found her other half. Seeing the two of them together made him feel like he could bask in their radiating glow.
Now, he wasn't so sure living single held as bright an appeal as it used to.
The ringing of her phone broke through his melancholic thoughts.
She dug her cell phone out of her oversized handbag, glanced at the screen, and blinked. "Oh, shit."
He tensed, immediate
ly on alert. "What's wrong?"
"It's an SOS. The guys are in trouble."
Digging his wallet out, Ryan tossed a few bills on the table, scooped up their trash, and shoved it in the bin on the way out the front door of the restaurant, Lark hot on his heels. "Where to?" he asked as they both hopped into his truck and fastened their seatbelts.
She read the message quickly. "The airport, and now."
Revving the engine, he mentally pictured the shortest route and pushed the speed limit to get there. "What does it say?"
"New information just came in. Loco, Cale, and Spoon are headed straight into an ambush. It's all hands on deck."
Although he'd never met the other Wind Warriors Lark worked with, his gut clenched at the ominous words. No brave soldier deserved to be set up as decoys, cannon fodder, or walk into a trap based on faulty or outright wrong information.
"Count me in."
She glanced up at him with a worried look written clearly across her face. "Ryan, this isn't your fight."
"It is now."
Chapter 2
Ryan tugged a black backpack from behind the driver's seat, hastily jerking at zippers to check the contents. Always before, he considered the stash of spare clothing and a handgun to be more than enough back-up in case of emergency. Today, he found the items sadly lacking for the mission ahead.
Lark pulled a faded black duffel bag from the floorboard of her passenger side, thrust the strap over her shoulder, then lifted the heavy item with familiar ease. His gut told him they would need every single object carefully packed inside the larger container and then some in order to prepare for a decent cavalry charge and have any chance at success.
"Night's here."
He swung around, noting the desert camouflage clothing covering a tall, large-framed man with dark-toned skin, piercing cobalt blue eyes, and facial features that shouted his obvious Native American ancestry. Curious to meet the leader and creator of the Wind Warriors, Ryan trotted after his sprinting sister.
"What's going on?" Lark asked, coming to a halt.
Night shook his head and gestured toward a large black helicopter. "I'll tell you on the way." Spinning, he pinned Ryan with a look. "Thanks for bringing her so fast."
"No problem." Checking Night out for the first time up close, Ryan found pride, concern, and supreme confidence in the man's face and stance. The man demanded respect from his carriage alone. Without a second thought, he trailed his sister to the chopper.
Night appeared at his side, startling Ryan with the quickness and silence in which he moved. "This isn't your fight."
Rolling his eyes, Ryan sighed. "Like I told Lark, it is now."
"Are you trained for this?"
Pausing in mid-stride, Ryan faced the leader stoically. "All the men in my family for the past five generations have served in the Army. Even my baby sis jumped on board the family wagon."
"This isn't basic training or a mock exercise."
"I may be FBI now, but I spent three years as an Army Ranger. Two tours of Afghanistan and more black ops assignments than I can recall." Anger and frustration rose to the fore even as he realized the man had a right to question his skill level and abilities on such an important mission.
Night's eyebrow shot up.
"You want to spend time yapping about my credentials or would you rather get airborne and save your men?" Not waiting for an answer, Ryan tossed his backpack to the floor of the helicopter and jumped in easily, Night right on his heels.
Plopping down beside Lark, he stared straight ahead at the pilot who was dressed in dark green from head to toe. A helmet complete with visor and communication gear finished the package.
Nothing resembled the US military except perhaps the solid black chopper, a Huey, probably from the Vietnam War era. Fully restored, it probably spent more time carrying sight-seers over the area than it ever did in battle. He hoped the old warhorse could sustain another round of live action without breaking apart or allowing a shower of bullets to penetrate the metal sides. For the first time in forever, he longed for the present day H-60 Black Hawk helicopters built for stealth, quiet, extreme offensive and defensive maneuvers, and longevity under duress.
Another man with dark blond hair sat opposite, his fingers clamped around a long rifle in hand. His fatigues, a collection of dark forest colors. They shared a look and a nod. Unless he missed his guess, he stared at a highly trained sniper.
Night shut the side door. "Let's roll."
The last rays of sunset reflected across the horizon before the sky turned charcoal, well on the way to a pitch black, moonless night. A perfect time for a surprise attack or a deadly ambush.
"Welcome aboard."
Automatically nodding, his racing mind took a moment to click on the voice, all too cheerful and feminine as if she were a 757 commercial plane hostess preparing to deliver her safety spiel including hand gestures. The thought fed fuel to his already flaring irritability.
The female pilot turned her head, allowing him to glimpse emerald green eyes and a tuft of brunette bangs under her headgear. She saluted Night with a small grin.
"She's flying us into battle?" Ryan cringed at his own words and the incredulous tone that emerged, but couldn't bite them back. Lark smacked him hard in the chest, her lips turned down in an outright frown of annoyance.
The rotors began to whirl as the engine revved up. Within seconds, they lifted off, zipping southwest at a fast clip.
"Listen, shit for brains, this isn't my first time flying and I've flown in a hell of a lot worse situations than this."
He blinked at the crude words and winced once more, realizing he deserved the insult. His sister not only flew into battle, she dashed in on foot with the other men in her team. Women held their own in the military even though they received little credit and quite a bit of flack for their presence among so many men. Never did he put a lady down for choosing to put her life on the line in the armed forces. They deserved much more reverence than that.
The co-pilot snickered. "She told you, man."
The voice rang a bell from memories past. Ryan sat forward, trying to place the man. Stumped, he struggled with the vague recognition until the man swiveled around, revealing letters written on his flight helmet.
"Rogue?"
"Blue Balls?"
Ryan snorted at the twist on his Army nickname. He couldn't believe his old rival sat in front of him. Seeing Rogue again sent a jolt through him like he'd just been hit by a close range paint ball, leaving an unusual sensation, not quite a sting, but not a warm fuzzy feeling either.
Tossing the thoughts aside, he fired back with gusto. "It's Blue Blood, you bastard."
"So you say. I know better." Rogue's deep voice carried across the small confines despite the noise of the machine.
"You're just fixated on my balls. Sounds like jealousy to me."
"Not the way I'm hung, bro. Low and heavy."
They fell into an old argument, one debated over for months on end. Over the years, Ryan thought about Rogue now and again, wondering where he ended up, if he chose to remain on active duty, if he were even then trudging through the sands of Afghanistan in the overbearing heat. Never would he have expected to find him on a chopper flying to prevent a massacre of his sister's team. The fact jostled Ryan in a way he couldn't describe or understand.
"I take it you know one another?" Lark broke in, busily dragging black clothes from her carry-on bag. Night's gaze darted from one to the other.
"Yeah. He was always trailing my ass, like some long lost puppy just out of basics."
"That was you, jackass."
Lark threw her hands up in the air. "Truce!" When everyone quieted, she glanced at Night. "What's the mission?"
"Cale, Loco, and Spoon are headed for a drug factory just across the southern US border, supposedly one of two large operations owned and run by Indigo Rojas. Intel showed the compound had armed guards and decent surveillance, but nothing like what we've seen with the l
arger cartel." He sucked in a breath and continued. "I learned today Rojas is greedy, climbing the rungs of power two at a time. Somehow our prior information proved false, grossly lacking in truth."
"An ambush?" Lark whispered.
"Possibly. Either way, we have to beat them to the rendezvous. There we can formulate another plan of action and figure out how to destroy this latest sidewinder."
Ryan's gut churned. Traitors at such high levels possessed their own kind of evil, poisoning the good intents of others, letting them march bravely ahead into sure death. "They won't respond to communication?"
Night shook his head. "They went incommunicado approximately thirty minutes before I learned of the error. Thus, the chopper."
The pilot gave a little pinky wave. "I guess we should introduce ourselves. I'm Tempest. Tall, dark, and surly here is my boss, Matt, aka Rogue."
Lark took up where Tempest left off. "I'm Lark. This bonehead next to me is my brother, Ryan. I'm not sure about Blue Balls, but honestly, don't want to go there. The therapy. Yikes."
The group grinned at her antics. Ryan only shook his head.
"This is Dillon." She pointed to the sniper. "I think everyone knows Night."
"Now can we get down to business?" Dillon growled, his face covered in worry.
"Cale's his brother," Lark whispered in Ryan's ear. The small piece of knowledge filled in several vacant blanks. She held up a black sweater and pants.
"Don't put those on yet," Night ordered.
Ryan blinked in confusion. "Why not?"
"We'll have to get close enough for them to stop and realize it's us. Since it'll be dark and they won't know we're coming, let's hope they don't get jumpy and decide we're bad guys and well worth blowing out of the sky." Night glanced out the side window. "I don't want to just dump a man in the middle of the road and hope they recognize him before splatting him like a bug on a windshield. But, even in the darkest night, I think they can pick Lark out with her blonde hair and bright pink clothes."
Blue Blood's Trifecta Page 1