Reluctant Hero
A TREX Rookies Story (Book 1)
Allie K. Adams
Contents
Reluctant Hero
A Note From The Author
Trex’s Mission Statement
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
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
The End
About the Author
Books By Allie K. Adams
Reluctant Hero
A TREX ROOKIES Story (Book 1)
By
Allie K. Adams
USA Today bestselling author
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Copyright © 2017 by Allie K. Adams
All rights reserved
First E-book Publication: 2017
Published by Allie K. Adams
www.alliekadams.com
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, information or storage retrieval, in whole or in part, without express written permission, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
A Note From The Author
You may recognize the names and even some of the crazy situations the characters get themselves into in this story. Ryan and Emma are the stars in Grooming the Player—an abridged version of this story without the sassy suspense (or as I like to call it sasspense – Allie’ism!). Reluctant Hero is the unabridged version, the full romantic comedy with light sasspense.
Trex’s Mission Statement
Tactical Retrieval Experts (TREX) is a privately funded agency independent of law enforcement, military, or any governmental restrictions. Our focus is on tracking and retrieving anything or anyone. Simply put: we find things. Employing highly trained agents with unlimited resources and extensive experience in covert operations, we will find anything and with guaranteed confidentiality. No matter the circumstances. No matter the danger. Call on TREX—we find what’s been lost.
1
TREX HQ – Seattle, Washington
“We don’t need younger recruits,” TREX Special Director Dan Weber argued, once again shutting down the idea of bringing in fresh blood. The covert agency specialized in finding anything, anywhere, at any cost, yet couldn’t find anyone under the age of twenty-five to recruit.
“We need better ones,” the man to his left stated. Jackson Banks, Special Agent in Charge of one of TREX’s spec ops units, rarely disagreed with the director. “The ones being offered to fill the seats on my team are too green. They’re barely able to tie their own shoes, let alone neutralize a target.”
The other SACs sitting around the conference table all nodded in agreement—all but one. Bailey McKoy kept her shoulders straight, her expression set, and her focus on the director. She didn’t come to TREX’s HQ in the bowels of Seattle today to be shot down for the umpteenth time. TREX needed a new generation of agents. The ones in the field now were successful in their finds, but they weren’t getting any younger. They hadn’t grown up surrounded by technology. Most had to be taught how to use a computer. Half of them couldn’t even operate their smart phones.
“We have a new batch cooking at Gahanna.” Frank Scott, better known as Scotty to everyone, was an instructor at TREX’s boot camp for field agents and used every opportunity to plug the program. “Got some shiny new toys for them to play with.”
“Is it a computer lab?” Bailey finally spoke up. The others remained silent, so she continued. “Because if it isn’t, then we’re missing our mark.”
“McKoy.” The director sighed and pinched the skin between his eyes. “Not every war is fought behind a desk. We’ve talked about this.”
“I think she has a point,” David Snyder agreed. Finally, someone open enough to hear her out instead of shut her down.
“That’s because you’re married to her sister.” Weber’s lips twitched.
“A sister who can hear you,” Charis’ voice sounded from the giant flat screen hanging on the wall.
Bailey swung around and smiled up at her sister’s image broadcasting from Montana. “Hey, sis.”
“Hey, Bails.” Charis’ warm smile lit up her cobalt eyes. All the McKoys shared the same bold blue eyes and dark brown hair. Charis’ curls were pulled back, more than likely to keep them out of her eyes as she chased around her twin one-year-old boys. She and her husband took turns video-conferencing in on the quarterly SAC meetings.
Bailey hadn’t talked to her sister since moving to Seattle over two months ago. Even with the winter rain, it was still better than the feet of snow and frigid cold of Montana. Too bad moving to the Emerald City to be closer to her on-again/off-again boyfriend resulted in disaster. In two short months her status had gone from it’s complicated to in a committed relationship to single in record time.
“What about me?” David snapped his brow into a frown.
Charis locked onto her husband and flashed a knowing grin. “I just saw you this morning, handsome.”
“Can we get back to the agenda?” Jackson practically growled. “Some of us have lives to live outside of this room.”
“Let’s hear her out.” David nodded at Bailey. When several SACs glared at him, he shrugged and relaxed in the chair. “What’s the harm in listening to what she has to say? She’s pulled our asses out of the fire more than a few times.” He regarded the director and added, “All from behind a desk.”
Weber nodded curtly and folded his hands, resting them on the table in front of him. “All right, McKoy. You have two minutes.”
“We used to recruit from colleges,” she started.
“Up until five years ago when one of those college recruits blew up a cabin, nearly killing one of our best agents.” His gaze flicked to the flat screen. Charis colored and looked away, shaking her head. She still felt the guilt from recruiting the man who’d transformed into the cyber-terrorist who’d wreaked havoc with nothing more than a keyboard.
Bailey refused to let the director shut down the idea over that isolated act. “We can’t give up because of one incident. There are always going to be threats like that out there. It’s our job to find them. We’ve been too short-sighted recruiting people already in the field. Agents in the SBI. Agents in the Seattle PD. Even agents on the wrong side of the law.” She stole a glance at Sc
otty.
He bristled and shot a glare at Weber. “You told me Dawson’s criminal record was expunged.”
“After the trial,” Weber explained. “We couldn’t very well purge the only connection Dawson had to the man he’s testifying against. His testimony is key to getting one of the most ruthless bastards put away for life.”
“I don’t want this coming back to bite TREX in the ass.”
“You let me worry about TREX’s ass.”
“My point is,” Bailey went on before the conversation got derailed. “The recruits now all have the same perspective. We need agents unfamiliar with the legal system.”
“People familiar with the legal system make good agents,” the director argued. “Some of our best agents have a background in law enforcement or military. One of our most decorated agents is a former Navy SEAL. The recruits we’re after need to be well-disciplined before we accept them. We don’t have time to teach them any new tricks.”
“What about teaching them old tricks?”
He narrowed his gaze. “What are you getting at, Agent McKoy?”
“This is your chance to teach the new kids on the block how things are done. Instead of a recruit coming in with his or her own way of doing things, why not bring in a few who don’t know how it’s done? Why not show a new generation of agents exactly why TREX is the most successful covert agency not sanctioned by the government? You’d have your pick of the best of the best. Bright young men and women all eager to do whatever it is you need.”
Weber held her gaze for several seconds before glancing around the room, gauging the reaction of the rest of the SACs. Not one of them protested. After several more seconds, Weber regarded her once again. “Why do we need a new generation of agents? What’s wrong with the generation we have?”
“Well, sir. It’s just that…” She hesitated, unsure how to point out the average age of the seasoned agents without calling them old. There was no way around it. If she insulted the group, she’d apologize later. With a deep breath, she channeled her twin Kaylee and jumped in with both feet. “Our agents aren’t getting any younger. Most of our field agents have been out of college for almost a decade.”
“So?”
The fact he didn’t make the connection gave her everything she needed. “So the world is a completely different place than it was then. Did you know there are degrees being offered that didn’t exist even five years ago? Have you heard of nanotechnology?”
He stiffened and shifted in the chair before looking to David. They exchanged glances. “Yes, I’ve heard of nanotechnology. I didn’t know you could get a degree in it. Next thing you know, they’ll be offering a degree in how to be a cyber-terrorist.” Another knowing exchange.
“Some colleges require computer programming as a core class now.”
David made a face. “You mean you have to learn how to hack before you can graduate?”
“Not every programmer is a hacker,” Charis defended sternly. David gave his wife a knowing look as he lifted his eyebrows. He then bounced his gaze to Bailey before returning it to the flat screen. The McKoy sisters were two of the best computer programmers in TREX. They were also both extremely talented hackers.
“Care to try that again, love?”
Charis conceded by adding, “Well, not all programmers.”
“There are degrees in social media, new media, and even human computer interaction.” Bailey considered herself up on current technology and even she couldn’t fathom a major in something like HCI.
“It sounds like science fiction,” Jackson said. “Are you saying colleges are teaching students how to combine humans and computers? Like robots that can think?”
“It’s only a matter of time before someone invents something so advanced no one in TREX will know how to neutralize it. We need a new generation of agents, ones surrounded by this technology. We need younger assets.”
Weber muttered a round of curses. “As much as I hate the idea of potentially diluting this agency with a bunch of green rookies who spend every waking moment playing video games, I can’t deny the fact our agents aren’t exactly sprightly anymore.”
“Speak for yourself,” David quipped. “I can run circles around a twenty-year-old.”
Charis laughed. “This from the man who threw out his back giving his sons horsey rides.”
“That’s not what happened.” He colored as he glanced around the room. “I was doing pushups with them on my back, you know, for extra weight.”
“Not all of us are in denial.” The director rolled his eyes. He then gave Bailey a single nod. “You win.”
“I do?” she exclaimed before she realized it. “I mean if you—”
“Take the win.” David cut her off. She snapped her mouth closed and nodded.
She’d definitely take the win. Leaning in, she opened the folder she’d prepared for this conversation. “I’ve compiled a list of prospective recruits.”
“I’m not interested in prospective recruits.” The director motioned for her to close the folder, which she did as disappointment deflated her lungs. “I want viable rookies worthy of wearing the badge. You find me this new generation of agents, this best of the best, and I’ll put you in charge of their training.”
“Sir?” She widened her eyes as she sucked in a quick intake of breath. In charge of an entire program? She’d barely started running point on her own finds and was just promoted to SAC two months ago. “Are you sure?”
“You wanted this,” he reminded her, as if he needed to. “Prove to me I’m not making a mistake. This had better turn out a generation of TREX agents worthy to protect our nation and not end up making us the laughing stock of the alphabet agencies. If this goes south and I end up in front of the senate because of it, I’ll pull the plug and toss out every last one in the program. That includes the one in charge of their training. Knowing this move will either make or break your career, are you sure you want to do this?”
“Absolutely.” She swallowed hard and hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
“One other thing, Agent McKoy. Get me some new geeks.”
She almost swallowed her tongue. “Excuse me?”
“Every little piss ant, know-it-all in a uniform claims to be an expert in our operations. Find me a few rookies who have no idea of protocol. Let’s see what they can do.”
Bailey already had the perfect subject in mind.
2
{Emma}
“So he says, ‘We need to talk’.”
I grab the cherry from my drink and pop it into my mouth. “Nothing good ever came from a conversation that starts with those four words.”
“And then he says, ‘So, I’ve been thinking.’”
“Or those four.” The latest breakup recap sounds all-too-familiar. I grab my maraschino martini and take my time savoring the flavor. I’ll probably get diabetes from the drink, it’s so sweet, but it’s my favorite. It’s a risk I’m willing to take for a good martini. “Get to the part where you stabbed him with a fork.” I take another sip and add, “In the eye.”
Brittany Pearson, my dorm mate who also happens to be my best friend, rolls those way-too-pretty-to-be-natural-but-are blue eyes that have most men utterly lost and rock hard in a matter of seconds. “I didn’t.”
“In my version you did. Someone needs to be stabbed in this scenario to really liven up the story.”
“You’re terrible, Emma Rae.”
We both laugh and clink our glasses together. I love our girls’ nights out. Sometimes others from the dorm join us, but not tonight. Tonight is all about Britt’s broken heart, ridiculously expensive drinks in a trendy posh bar, and scanning for the next contestant.
Immediately that Nickelback song pops into my head. I don’t say anything or dare hum a bar for fear I’ll be labeled a douche B for even knowing the song. All their songs are about objectifying women in some way, shape, or form. And yet, I can’t stop myself from singing along whenever they come on the radi
o.
I scan the bar of choice for this round of breakup cocktails. I wouldn’t categorize it as the coolest, but it’s definitely better than the one we went to last time. That one had writing on all the walls and something sticky on all the surfaces. Check that one off the list.
At least once a month we hit up a different bar and go through the motions as Britt blubbers into her vodka cranberry over the one that got away. Each time, I bring my BFF back by giving her a shoulder to cry on. That and copious amounts of her favorite breakup cocktail. Since we’re on an island—Bainbridge Island in Washington State, to be exact—you’d think our choices would be limited. But Bainbridge is a college town. There are more bars than grocery stores. That pretty much sums up a college student’s priority. Fun first. Food later.
I throw back the rest of my drink and raise a hand to catch the bartender’s attention. When he swings those gorgeous dancing chocolate eyes my way, I lose my train of thought. Damn, he’s hot. Like, oh my God, take me home and make yourself comfortable between my legs hot. As I give him my best attempt at a little flirty look, he darts his gaze to Britt and her irresistible smile. The grin he’d only hinted at while looking at me takes full flight. As he shoots Britt a sexy, sideways look, he smiles so wide I see his back teeth.
And, just like that, I no longer exist. Awesome.
I try not to mentally compare myself to Britt. She can’t help that God gave her bombshell looks. Blonde curls that somehow catch the light, even in the dark. Blue eyes deeper than that diamond from Titanic. A smile that snags any man with a pulse. She’s got the whole package.
Then there’s me. Athletic build, as my gym teacher labeled me back in high school. I still don’t know what that means. My boobs are average size and won’t turn any heads without the proper pushup bra. Instead of blonde, I have red hair. Not the sexy red like Emma Stone or Lindsay Lohan before she lost her ever-loving mind. Or classic red like Maureen O’Hara. John Wayne had good taste casting her in his movies. Mine is more like the color of rust, or maybe copper. Either way, I used to hate it. When you’re the only redhead in the class, you get picked on. A lot. Now, I don’t mind standing out in a crowd or catching a guy’s attention with nothing more than a flip of the ginger mane.
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