by Emily Snow
Trig had been eating walnuts. He was crushing them in his large hands when one of the shells was tossed. A knife floated through the air and landed in the middle of the walnut across the room in the wall.
Brian smiled as Elijah shook his head.
“Alright. You were right when you said we needed to keep repair materials on hand.”
Isa walked over to where he stood and handed him a twenty. They’d bet on who would be the first to break something in.
“Okay. What was that for? I saw that exchange.” Wellsie sat forward and placed her hands on the table.
Trig snorted before being the one to respond. “They bet on which of us would put our mark on the office first.”
“Damn.”
Hounder sat shaking his head.
“That means Ghost bet on me being the first. That’s wrong. That’s so fucking wrong.”
“Point was made though.” Trig continued crushing his shells together.
“Hell yeah. That was accurate as hell and with no forewarning. One Shot it is.” B.B. was practically jumping in her seat, she was so excited.
A throat was cleared and Brian’s eyes moved to the person responsible for it. His head shifted in Sam’s direction and he could tell she was holding on by a thread.
“Why are we here, Lead Dog?” Proph asked.
“A mission.”
It was all he’d stated before he sat down. Hounder was the one that jumped on the ambiguous statement.
“Come on now, Ghost. You know that crap won’t fly here. Let’s get real. What’s going down and why did you calls us in? We don’t always play well together and most of us don’t do daylight hours,” Proph stated.
“Yeah, what gives? It’s got be serious because you called in Hounder. If he’s not balls-deep in the nearest … chick in the next five, then he’s gonna wilt,” Trig grunted out.
“My balls are still wet from the last … sets of legs I was in between. Keep talking and you’ll be getting a taste yourself,” Hounder stated as he cleaned his gun and peered over the head of a bullet while looking in Trig’s direction.
“Enough!” Brian spoke the word calmly, but with enough fierceness behind it to let them know he was serious. “Now that the introductions have been made, we can move on.”
The Mission – Chapter 3
“Business. J.H.C. is intended to be a business. With that said, you will have a file in front of you with details of the needs of this office, the expectations of the team, passcodes, special accounts, safety deposit and post office boxes, along with a list of possible alias names. Compensation comes upon completing a mission. Ten percent will be taken off the top for maintenance of the company, offices, supplies, and such. The rest will be divvied up between the team members. You also have a share in the company so you are part of this investment of your time and skill sets. The sole document you will need to sign will be the first page. There is a sealed file within. If it is broken, you have signed on to be part of the team, and will get the next set of instructions.”
Each of them looked at him and broke the seal. There wasn’t a question or hesitation. Proph stood and handed out the “Ready Sacs.” That was a phrase that he designed. In the bags would be passports, identifications, cash for all countries, phones, earbuds, tablets, and credit cards.
“Samantha?”
“Sir?” her eyes focused on him, but he could tell she wasn’t fully with him.
After a moment, she fully focused.
“You ready?”
“Yes. Sir, I’m ready.”
Sam, Proph, and Charlie tended to fluctuate between “Sir” and one of his nicknames.
“Our mission is to retrieve a very special package that was taken at 0800 from the playground of her school. The package’s name is Ming Ni Wilkens-Davis.”
The expressions on the teams’ faces told him that everyone had put the connection together.
“Ming Ni is the door of one of our team members and the granddaughter of our benefactor. Our window is seven days. Our goal is forty-eight hours.”
Proph began handing out the standard issue weapon for the team in the special cases the man designed for the team, which were complete with dog tags.
“Proph is going to need each of you to give him a log of your weapons. Every. Single. One. If shit goes south, we need to know what we have out there. Capiche?”
“Yeah,” they grumbled.
Most of them had custom weapons that were gifts. They didn’t like any of their stuff being handled. A log meant having each one inspected so custom replacement parts could be ordered.
“In house is a gym, gun range, pool, weapons station, lounge, spa, and offices for each of you. We have room to grow. R&D will commence in forty-five. If you haven’t familiarized yourself with the area, do so. You need entrance and escape routes. I’m not training. I need your lists of those routes ASAP. Ming Ni is depending on this team to bring her safely home to her family. You’re here because you’re some of the best at what you do.”
Brian looked to Sam whom Trig had gravitated towards. Her hand was previously shaking. The knee beneath the table was bouncing. As he moved to pull the most important information, three papers were sliding his way. He recognized Trig’s, Hounder’s, and B.B.’s handwriting. Wellsie pointed to the back wall where her knife had previously been wedged and her list was hanging there. He hadn’t even heard the thing imbed itself in the wall again.
“Okay. Proph.” Brian handed off the pages to Proph and the man nodded.
“The case we acquired had schematics for a place that is believed to where our package is being held. This man is believed to be the leader. Mr. Willie Lang is known for his penchant for human trafficking young girls, especially ones of European decent. He’s also known for bait-and-switch antics. He’s made his demands known. He wants money and he wants his brother.”
“We have Isabelle working on the inside, but this man doesn’t like to be predictable. We will need to be on our toes, armed, and prepped for anything,” Brian stated as he began to lay out the rest of the plan.
The very last thing was the thing he didn’t want to do. He didn’t want to put the photo of Sam’s daughter up. In all actuality, he really didn’t want her to be on this mission. Brian heard her intake of breath and wanted to instantly take it down. Trig cleared his throat and gave the nod that indicated everyone should’ve had enough time to commit the girls to memory. Sam must’ve been doing worse than expected because Trig was rubbing her back.
“Just so you know, if Proph is going out, then no guns,” Trig stated.
“Aw, come on, Trig, Don’t be like that,” Elijah stated. His accent was thicker than normal.
“What? Why doesn’t he want Elijah armed when going out?” Isa inquired.
“He has good reason. The last time they were out on an op together, Proph mistakenly shot Trig in the leg. It’s why you’ll see him favoring the left when he walks,” Brian explained.
“It was years ago and I was a rookie. I’m a much better shot and I can handle a gun.”
“That may be true, but Proph needs to stay in.”
Trig’s eyes floated in B.B.’s direction then moved to look in Brian’s. Brian gave him a questioning look, but Trig shook his head in response.
“It’s not like he’s the only team member to take on friendly fire.”
Brian’s words were spoken in a low tone, but the acoustics carried his deep voice to every ear in the room.
“Are you kidding me, Ghost? You’re going to bring that up now!” Isabelle’s vocal range hit a note that he hadn’t heard in quite some time.
“You did shoot me. Is that not the truth?” Brian teased.
“It wasn’t like I shot you on purpose or anything. I did get the guy.”
“You got the guy by putting a bullet through my shoulder.”
A couple of snickers could be heard before Hounder added his two cents.
“He’s acting as if he didn’t have a hard-on for a month
after that.”
B.B. sucked her teeth as Prophet began to speak. “You do realize that is physically impossible, right?”
“I didn’t say it was a stiff one for the entire month. We all know that it doesn’t take much …”
“Okay. Let’s get back to the reason we’re here in the first place.”
Isabelle folded her arms over those firm and ample breasts of hers. Brian felt a bone-deep desire for her that he hadn’t felt in years. It was something he thought was long dead. There was a reason the two of them had gone their separate ways.
“Wait. Who was the guy?”
“Cortez Warren.”
“Hell naw! The Mexican arms dealer that was also the second-in-command to one of the most well-known drug rings in Central and South America?” Charlie Boy asked with a sense of awe in his voice.
“Somebody knows a little something about a bad guy or two,” Proph joked and Wellsie nodded in response.
“I have to know these things. If I don’t, then I’m not doing my job and I serve no purpose to the team, do I?”
“Cool your jets, Charlie Boy. We give each other shit here. No need to get your boxers in a bunch.”
Hounder’s words seemed to resonate with the kid and the young man immediately calmed down.
“Have to wear ‘em to get them bunched.”
B.B., Sam, and Isabelle all looked in the direction of the youngster’s waistline and below before sharing a look of raised eyebrows.
“That is not something I ever wanted or needed to know about you, Charlie Boy. Definitely, too much information.”
Brian was surprised Hounder was the one to offer up that statement since he was the one that usually made snide remarks. He thought the Cuban would’ve commended the young man’s creative nature. Charlie Boy’s only response was to shrug his shoulders.
“Anyway, we got the guy by my sharing his bullet because of our illustrious language expert. I believe that was her first time firing a gun at something other than a target.”
“If that’s the case, then you should be grateful you only received a shoulder wound from it. You could be pushing up daisies, Ghost.”
Wellsie’s statement didn’t make him feel better. It actually made him feel worse. Isabelle’s annoyed gasp had everyone giving her their attention again.
“Back on task. The youngster learned his lesson. So did I,” she mumbled.
“He’s the youngest of our crew, next to Charlie Boy, but don’t let the age fool you. He was the one that handled comms, legit covers, website generation, identification, and travel arrangements for the Russia-India-Spain detail,” Brian bragged on his tech’s behalf.
Trig and Hounder turned and looked at the Italian, geeky-looking guy in the room. Proph nodded his head before fixing his glasses.
“Dude, if he doesn’t forgive you for shooting him, then hell I will. That was some masterful shit with that one.”
B.B.’s brows knit together as if she were trying to figure something out.
“I don’t share everything that I am into especially when I don’t know who I can trust. Lead Dog, everything you asked for is prepped, security is in place, passes are in the pre-labeled pouches in the case at your feet, and requested documentation is in the binder on the table.”
“Damn,” Trig’s voice carried around the room. “Forgiven.”
Proph simply nodded in acknowledgement.
“All right. Rest up. The next twenty-four hours we won’t be getting much. Back at 1800 to recon and review. At 2100, we’re hitting the ground running.”
The Ghost’s Woman – Chapter 4
Brian sat in his office waiting for the team to return from their various scouting trips. He thought about the woman that was sitting in the office next door to his. She was the woman he’d thought he’d lost all chances with. Knowing she was in the office next door had him itching to make her as aware of his presence as he was of hers. He was most definitely very much aware of her. Seeing her the first day, in the offices, he had to admit something he’d been fighting for a few years. He was still deliriously in love with the woman. No one else compared to the clawing need he had for that woman.
“I don’t believe the General suspected he would be the one needing your team when he seconded your thought of putting this group together.”
“No, Isa, I don’t think he did. If he had, then it would call into question every decision he’s ever made and every piece of advice he ever gave me. Considering the results of some of those decisions, I don’t want to entertain questioning them.”
Brian gave her a pointed look while Trig smirked before leaving his seat on the other side of the room and heading out the door. There were times when he believed the big man had an innate ability to foresee things or his skills of observation surpassed those of a typical person. He was always in the thick of some of the key moments of Brian’s life. Trig was the one that suggested contact with Isa on this project. Brian was the one that said she would never do it. The woman hadn’t hesitated when she’d given her response.
“I am there. Tell me where to meet you and I’ll be there with bells on.”
He’d thought she’d added, “It’s about damn time” to her ending statement, but she wouldn’t repeat herself. They were similar in that right. Brian was glad to have her around. She kept him grounded, calmed him in ways others couldn’t. The woman excited him in ways no other could as well. That wasn’t the point of this time though. No, the point was that Isabelle was an asset to the team. It wasn’t what they’d been focused on the night before.
Brian was the one to get the call requesting he come and pick her up from the airport. Everything she owned and cherished most was already in the states. Her previous stint had been in London. It took her one week to get everything packed and have her life uprooted.
They’d grabbed something to eat on the way to taking her home. When he’d pulled over to allow them to eat, he was amazed at how silent they were. In the four years they’d been apart, they’d seen each other on several occasions. It was different. They were both in the U.S. The dynamics changed. The rules of engagement were altered. The last employee of the restaurant hopped in his car and drove off.
The car hadn’t even cut the corner good before he felt her hand slip down the front of his joggers. Brian was beyond grateful he’d just finished swallowing his final bite.
“Hello, nine inches, did you miss me?”
“With every stroke of my hand, the wonder of that mouth is not easily forgotten.”
“I cream my pants with the thought of you placing those powerful hands near my body. Hearing you say that one of those hands takes hold to that pleasuring pole has me about to spontaneously combust.”
“If I said my cock wants to be coated in all of the juices you’re set to provide for the night, how would you react then?”
She didn’t speak her response. Instead, she was in motion. Her shirt was the first piece of clothing she prepped to remove as she moved to straddle him in the front seat of his monster truck. Just as he latched on to her recently exposed nipple, his phone chimed three consecutive tones that meant the message was from Proph. If Proph was making contact, then it had to do with news on the case. He groaned as he shifted slightly to give himself room to reach the phone that had fallen to the floor.
Proph: Lead Dog, intel is in and it’s what we expected. Team will be in house in fifteen.
Isa’s phone chimed and he knew she’d just received the request to go in. Looking at him, she was quiet. He was taking a moment to let Proph know he’d be there soon.
“Guess duty calls, Lucky.”
Isa smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear, even though there was no one else in the car.
“Oh no, Big Dog. You are not about to finger fuck me and run. This massive piece is travelling northbound between my thighs. You will be fucking me in a matter of moments. You will get me off and get your release so we aren’t tense when we go to the office. Got me?”
&nb
sp; Inwardly, Brian had a huge, shit-eating grin, but kept his unfettered look on his face. Isa didn’t wait for him to respond. Lifting slightly, she moved her panties to the side and guided him where she wanted him to be. They both exhaled at the feeling of the two of them reconnecting after all of the years that had passed.
Recalling the previous night’s interactions wasn’t doing anything for him. It was doing nothing to keep his body temperature levels right.
“You need to stop. We have other things to focus on.”
Brian screwed up his face and gave her a confused look. Isa pointedly looked down and he noticed what she did. There he was with a present bulge in his pants. Groaning, he turned away from her and began to look out the window at the skyline. He thought about the damage that he wanted to do to the guy who kidnapped Ming Ni.
“Better?”
“Hellz no, it’s not better. The only thing that will make it better, I can’t do because the team will be filing in within the next ten.”
“We need to talk.”
“I know, but now isn’t going to be the time. The more I hear your voice, the more I want several parts of your body on me. I needed a few.”
He could see her reflection in the window. She looked disappointed, but she nodded in compliance and left. Yeah, her leaving him be for a bit was definitely for the best.
The Foul Up – Chapter 5
Brian sat in the room and listened to the heated discussion that was going on between the team members. He’d been there for about a half an hour. He knew he needed to step in but didn’t really want to be bothered. Wellsie took that option from him.
“Look dickheads, first off, you sons of bitches couldn’t get two twats to rub against you if they were sewn together and sitting an inch from your face. Second, Ghost here had a reason for bringing us out of our dark, shadowy holes, which is the truth for most of you. So shut the fuck up and listen.” B.B. smiled then sat back and crossed her legs. “How’s that? Feel better?”
All of the guys looked like they’d just swallowed their tongues. All of them except Trevor. The brooding male just nodded his head in acknowledgement then crossed his feet at his ankles.