Hard Justice (Cobra Elite Book 3)
Page 1
Hard Justice
A Cobra Elite Novel
Pamela Clare
www.pamelaclare.com
Contents
Hard Justice
Acknlowledgements
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Thank You
Also by Pamela Clare
About the Author
Hard Justice
A Cobra Elite novel
Published by Pamela Clare, 2019
Cover Design by © Jaycee DeLorenzo/Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
Photo credit: _italo_ on Depositphotos
Copyright © 2019 by Pamela Clare
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials by violating the author’s rights. No one should be expected to work for free. If you support the arts and enjoy literature, do not participate in illegal file-sharing.
ISBN: 978-1-7335251-6-9
This book is dedicated to my mother, Mary White, whose love and support has helped sustain me through two kids, three grandchildren, and thirty novels. Thanks, Mom. I love that you get caught up in my stories.
Acknlowledgements
This book would not have been possible without my wonderful Glaswegian sources. Special thanks to Nicola Brooks and Saunders. They helped give Quinn his distinctly Glaswegian voice, though I did have to modify his speech a bit for American readers. We want them to understand it, aye?
Many thanks to my home team—my sister, Michelle White, my son, Benjamin Alexander, and my friends Jackie Turner and Shell Ryan. Writing a book shares more than a few things with climbing, and you help me when I freak myself out by looking down. Thank you for your years of support.
Thanks, too, to Kaylea Cross and Katie Reus for their encouragement and support.
A heartfelt thank you to the men of Scotland for fueling the fantasies and flaming the lust of women around the world for a fair few centuries now. Aye, wear the damned kilt.
Prologue
Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan
November 29
Two years ago
Elizabeth Shields walked down the jet bridge to the plane that would carry her from Mazar-e-Sharif, Afghanistan, to Istanbul, Turkey, passport in hand, a white burka covering her from head to toe. Except that right now, she wasn’t Elizabeth Shields. She was a decoy pretending to be Jenna Hamilton, a Cobra client who’d become a target of Abdul Jawad Kazi, the warlord who governed Balkh Province.
She made her way to her seat, handbag slung over her shoulder, burka catching on the arms of the chairs as she passed. She sat, put on her seatbelt, and sent a text message to the operations room to let Quinn McManus and Alex Cross know that she was safely on board.
Quinn replied immediately.
Safe travels. See you in Istanbul.
The big Scot had a soft heart—and was super sexy. Ripped. Six-foot-four. Square jaw. Beard. Thick red hair. She enjoyed flirting with him, though, of course, nothing could come of it. Since that rat bastard Jason, she didn’t do workplace flings, and fraternization was against company rules.
She sat back, tension starting to leave her.
This had been a crazy mission. For starters, Derek Tower, one of the co-owners of Cobra International Security, had fallen head-over-heels in love with Jenna, their client. Derek and Jenna tried to deny it, but Jenna, a midwife, wasn’t good at hiding her emotions—at least not from someone with Elizabeth’s experience.
Elizabeth had worked for the CIA as a counterterrorism analyst, linguist, and interrogator, and had no problem reading every emotion that ran through Jenna’s mind. Tower was more closed, but he’d been off kilter this entire mission. The fact that they’d been sharing a room that held only one bed was also a pretty clear sign that they’d become lovers.
Derek Tower had a soft side. Who knew?
On top of that, someone had detonated a car bomb just outside Cobra’s compound, damaging their front gate and shaking the building.
They’d put this operation together to get Jenna safely beyond Kazi’s grasp. Elizabeth had never been a decoy before, but she wasn’t nervous. Three armored vehicles with Cobra agents sat outside the terminal, ready to act in case she needed them. It was exciting, really—a chance to get out of the office and do field work.
Turkish flight attendants helped people with luggage, passengers speaking mostly Dari with some tribal dialects thrown in for good measure. Slowly, everyone took their seats, and the aisles cleared.
The doors were closed, and the jet bridge started to retract.
Then it stopped and reversed, moving back toward the door.
Elizabeth’s pulse skipped. Through her window, she saw turbaned fighters with automatic weapons heading for the airplane.
Kazi’s men.
She tapped out a quick message.
I think they’ve come for Jenna. Kazi’s men boarding.
They might be here for someone else.
A flight attendant gave a shriek as the door to the cabin was forced open and armed men rushed on board.
“Jenna Hamilton,” said one, his accent heavy.
Heart thrumming, Elizabeth raised a hand. She needed to distract them only long enough for Derek and the others to take off on Cobra’s private jet.
The fighter made his way toward her, three others behind him.
“Passport.”
He took the passport, examined it, then compared it to an image on his smartphone.
Damn it!
Kazi must have given them a photo of Jenna.
Elizabeth’s false passport had been created with her photo, not Jenna’s.
Her fear for Jenna’s safety escalated. This could bring their entire mission crashing down and end with Kazi taking Jenna.
The man barked at her in poor English. “Where is Jenna Hamilton?”
She had to buy time. “I am Jenna Hamilton.”
He called someone, spoke in Dari, which, fortunately, was one of Elizabeth’s languages. “She’s not on this plane. Ground all flights.”
Shit.
Elizabeth hoped that Derek and Jenna were already in the air.
If not, she had failed them.
“Come with me.” The man took hold of Elizabeth’s arm, dragged her out of her seat. “Where is Jenna Hamilton?”
“I am Jenna. Are you blind? Look at my passport.”
He ripped off her burka, pain exploding on her cheek as he backhanded her. “American bitch. You are a Cobra spy.”
Quinn McManus heard the command to ground all flights. “They’ve figured it out. We’ve got to get Shields out of there.”
Javier Corbray, one of the co-owners of Cobra, held up a hand to silence him, as Tower’s voice came over the radio, bringing worse news.
A group of hostiles
was approaching Cobra’s private jet.
Fuck.
Quinn listened as Tower evacuated Jenna to a vehicle and headed with her and the rest of Team Two toward Cobra’s hangar.
“Cobra, this is Team Two. Four vics and at least twenty fighters with small arms and an RPG are coming our way, over.”
“Son of a bitch!” Corbray called Team One, the group of armored vehicles that had accompanied Elizabeth. “Team One, this is Cobra. Leave current position, head north down the highway to the end of the runway. Punch a hole in that perimeter fence to make an escape route and cover Team Two, how copy, over?”
That was it.
McManus stood, headed for the door.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Corbray asked.
“Shields is alone. Team One is no longer in a position to keep her safe. I’m getting her out of there.”
Corbray motioned toward the door. “Watch your six.”
Quinn dashed to the lift, made his way to the weapons locker, threw on body armor, and grabbed an M4 rifle and several loaded magazines. Then he ran to the garage, climbed into an armored vehicle, and set out, passing through the warped and damaged front gate.
It was a five-kilometer drive to the airport, McManus listening as the situation went from bad to worse. Cruz was down. O’Neal was down. Jones was down.
Corbray sent in Helo One with reinforcements and to evacuate the wounded, but it would take them a while to reach the tarmac. When they did, there was no guarantee they’d arrive in time to save lives. Then came word that Tower was down, too.
Jesus sufferin’ fuck!
Cobra had never lost men on a mission, but this was becoming a blood bath. Three operatives and one of the owners down.
Kazi must want Jenna very badly. Then again, her father was a wealthy US Senator. Taking her prisoner meant money in the bank.
McManus pulled up to the terminal, double parking near the entrance, and pushing his way through. A security guard tried to stop him, so he punched the guy in the face, knocking him to the floor.
She’d gone through Gate 4, off to his left.
People moved out of his way now, women gasping from behind their burkas.
Hold on, Elizabeth.
“Cobra, this is … O’Neal. They’ve … got her. They’ve got Jenna … and Tower.”
Four armed men appeared at Gate 4, Elizabeth between them, her lip bleeding. Her eyes went wide when she saw Quinn.
Och, she was terrified.
The men saw Quinn, too, and stopped, one pointing his AK at Elizabeth’s head.
Quinn raised his M4, focused on the forehead of the man aiming at her. “Tell them to release you—now. Tell them you’re going with me.”
She translated his words into Dari.
The man glared at Quinn, rattled off his answer.
“He says that unless you leave, he’ll kill us both. Quinn, don’t risk yourself—”
“Tell him that if he harms you, I’ll cut his dick and balls off and feed them to my dog. You might be dead, but he’ll live the rest of his life as a woman.”
Elizabeth translated again, people around them gasping.
But Quinn wasn’t finished. “When I’m done, I’ll kill the rest of these pig-fuckers and leave their guts for the vultures. No burial. No prayers.”
Elizabeth translated once again.
More gasps.
Quinn moved forward, let his rage show. “Drop your fuckin’ weapons!”
Elizabeth translated.
One by one, the bastards dropped their AKs to the tile floor.
Quinn reached out, grabbed Elizabeth’s wrist and jerked her toward him. “I’ve got you, Lilibet Go. The vehicle is double parked outside the door. Stop for nothin’.”
She ran.
Quinn kept his rifle aimed at Kazi’s men, then tossed a smoke grenade, and ran for the front door.
Elizabeth was already climbing into the vehicle when he reached it.
He launched himself into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and sped out of the car park, heading for the airport’s front gate.
Beside him, Elizabeth was quaking like a leaf. “Th-thank you. Thank you. I can’t believe you scared them into letting me go. They were taking me to Kazi. Th-they said he was going to rape me and then sell me or behead me.”
Quinn reached over, took her hand. “I’m sorry I didnae get here sooner. The entire operation has gone to hell. Let’s get you back to the compound.”
What the hell did Quinn mean by that?
“Is Jenna…?”
A voice came over the radio.
“Cobra this is Helo One. We’re en route to Kabul with three casualties, all critical. Tower and Hamilton are confirmed missing. Tower is believed to be wounded.”
Jenna’s heart sank. “Oh, my God. They got her. I blew it, and they got her. Now, she and Derek are missing and the others are wounded.”
“It’s no’ your fault, Elizabeth. Kazi is a smart bastard. Somehow, he figured it out. That’s no’ your doin’.”
“I tried to stall. I kept telling them I was Jenna, even after they knew I wasn’t.”
“You did all you could do. Dinnae blame yourself.”
The drive back to the compound was surreal, Elizabeth listening as Cobra operators and staff did everything they could to save the wounded men’s lives and launch a rescue operation for Tower and Jenna.
When they got back to the compound, Quinn called the ops room via his radio to let them know he and Elizabeth were safely back. Then he helped Elizabeth out of the vehicle. “Let’s get you to Doc Sullivan, have him check you out. It looks like they struck you pretty hard.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m fine. I don’t want to waste—”
“You’ve got a bloody lip and a bruised cheek. You need to be seen.” He shepherded her to the elevator. The moment the doors closed, he drew her into his arms. “It’s okay, Lilibet. You’re safe now.”
His body armor was unyielding, but his embrace was warm, a sanctuary.
“I don’t want to know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come for me.”
“Do you think we would let those fuckers take you to that bastard Kazi?”
“I can’t believe you intimidated them into letting me go.” Quinn had seemed absolutely fearless. “You were outnumbered. You could have been killed.”
“Kazi’s men are bullies, and bullies are cowards. When they know you’re no’ goin’ to back off, that you mean what you say, they buckle. There’s no way I’d have let them kill you. I had that bastard’s forehead in my sites. I’d have blown his head wide open afore he could squeeze off a shot.”
She smiled, touched by his gory attempt to comfort her. “You always know just what to say to a woman.”
He led her to medical and left her with Doc Sullivan, his blue eyes telling her that he wished he could stay. “You’re in good hands now.”
She wished he could stay, too.
“Quinn!” she called after him.
He stopped. “Aye?”
“Thank you.”
Her words were woefully inadequate. The man had risked his life to rescue her, forcing four armed fighters to let her go.
He grinned, his smile giving her belly flutters. “Always.”
1
Quinn McManus unlocked his gear cage and walked inside, the Scottish flag hanging on the back wall, marking the space as his. He set his duffel on the bench, that familiar gloominess rising inside him. He felt this way at the end of every deployment and had learned to ignore it—with the help of Bell’s whisky.
You’re no’ right in the heid, man.
What reason did he have to feel dour? The team had gotten the senator to and from his meeting with Afghan military leaders, and not a shot had been fired. It had been a textbook operation, the kind of mission that had earned Cobra International Security its reputation as a top-of-the-line private military company.
“Home, sweet home,” said Nick Andris, whose cage stood n
ext to Quinn’s. Andris had been with Cobra since it began operations, joining after a career with Delta Force and the Central Intelligence Agency.
“I bet you can’t wait to get back to your sweet baby girl,” said Malik Jones, a former Army Ranger.
“Or her mother,” added Dylan Cruz, who’d served with the Navy SEALs.
“You got that right.”
If Quinn were married to Holly Andris, he’d want to get home, too. A former CIA officer, she could have been a movie star with that face. Aye, she was quality, so she was—both smart and bonnie.
She’s not Lilibet.
Elizabeth, with her sharp mind, strawberry-blond hair and sweet face, worked for Cobra, too, and that meant she was off limits. Cobra had strict rules about employees getting together. It was all a load of shite as far as Quinn was concerned. His kissing her square on her smart mouth posed no risk to operational security that he could see.
Still, it was probably for the better. At thirty-six, Quinn lived alone. It’s not that he didn’t want a woman in his life. Aye, he’d had his share of lovers and had hoped one day to have a family. But there was an ugliness inside him, proof that the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree. No woman deserved that.
Quinn let the men’s conversation drift over him, unzipped his duffel, and began to unpack, tossing dirty clothes onto the floor and stowing his gear in his locker. Body armor. Safety glasses. Helmet. Night vision goggles. Knife in its ankle rig. His personal Browning Hi-Power pistol with loaded magazines. First-aid kit. Cook stove and fuel pellets. Emergency blanket. Mess kit. Enamel cup for tea. Tin of teabags.