Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mason (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The 13)

by Anne L. Parks

  “Wow. That’s…unbelievable. I can’t even imagine having to go through that.”

  Mason stiffened, but didn’t say anything. If things went as she had proposed, she might very well be captured by a group of Russian terrorists. Of course, she was probably going to be luckier than Fiona. Jess wouldn’t have to endure years of being passed around from one man to the other, addicted to drugs, and being raped on a daily basis. The men after her only wanted to torture and kill her.

  At least, as far as she knew.

  Placing the remainder of the groceries in the cabinet, she folded up the bags, and set them in a formerly empty bottom drawer. So far, Mason either hadn’t realized all the changes she had made in his kitchen, or didn’t care.

  “He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the living room. “I have something for you.”

  “For me?” She sat on the couch, her heart galloped in her chest.

  “So—I don’t want to pressure you or anything—and I know it’s too soon to think about what will happen when you no longer need my protection—but I wanted you to have something. We can see how things go, but even if things don’t go as I hope they will, I wanted you to have something to remember me by.”

  He pulled out a black velvet box that filled his entire hand and lifted the lid. Inside was a brushed nickel dog tag pendant with a heart cut out of the center. She ran her fingers over the little ridges, and traced the edges of the heart.

  “I wanted to have it engraved, but didn’t want there to be any identifying marks on it.”

  Jess finished the rest of his sentence in her head… in case you’re captured.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “I…love it.” She lifted the necklace from its velvety bed and held it out to him. “Can you help me put it on?”

  She lifted her hair, and Mason clasped the chain. The dog tag rested on her chest bone over her heart. The gift was so…Mason. Simple in content, but enormous in gesture. Jess was struggling to figure out what exactly it meant. Maybe it didn’t matter that the meaning was unclear. Perhaps all that mattered was the way it made her feel. As if Mason was always with her. Over her heart. In it. Owning it. She leaned into him, and kissed him. “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re very welcome.” He kissed her again, softly, his fingers sliding through her hair, his tongue slipping inside her mouth. It was sweet, yet sensual, and had every single cell in Jess’s body swooning.

  Ringing. The cell phone again. Mason darted into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Riley,” he said, sauntering back into the living room. The muscles in his neck strained, and his smile fell to a deep scowl. “Okay. See you in the morning.”

  He pocketed the cell phone, and looked up at Jess. “We have to be at the office in the morning. Apparently, there were instructions on the thumb drive found at your mother’s house. Riley and Lance have come up with a plan.”

  Chapter 16

  TD Gardens bustled with activity between the first and second periods of the Bruins-Sharks hockey game. Mason wasn’t a fan of either team—a diehard Rangers fan himself—but then again, he wasn’t there to watch the game.

  He was there to catch terrorists. To make them pay for hurting Jess, and for killing her friends.

  He popped the last bits of a hot dog into his mouth, and scanned the concourse for anyone who looked out of place. So many bodies were crammed in the space, like sheep being herded around some chaotic obstacle course. People lined up for food, beer, and restrooms. And every single one of them was talking. Others huddled in groups, blissfully ignorant that potential terrorists were moving amongst them. The noise was a loud hum.

  White noise.

  Riley was across the concourse, leaning against a wall. She stuck out like a sore thumb in a Pavel Datysuk Red Wings jersey. But what really made her look odd—at least to him—was her dark brown hair. He was so used to her red mane that the brunette wig looked odd on her.

  The thumb drive left at Alicia Baylor’s home had contained instructions for how to get her returned home, alive—and to hand over Jess. Everyone agreed that there was no way they were heeding terrorist demands and giving up Jess, so they decided Riley would masquerade as Jess, and draw out the bad guys.

  Everyone except Jess—who was just as insistent that she be the one to take the risks. They all took a stab at talking her down, but she still insisted she be allowed to go to Boston with the team. Since leaving her in Newport would’ve dictated one of the team staying behind with her (which would put the team at a disadvantage) it was decided she would come along.

  Over Mason’s very loud protests.

  But, he knew it was the right decision. If nothing else, his mind wasn’t in Newport. She was across the street from the arena, in a bar safe with Sean and his K-9, Appollo. The bar was just as packed as the arena, but Sean knew to keep her tucked into a booth and not let her out of his sight until the danger had passed.

  A group of guys in Bruins jerseys, slopping beer all over the place, surrounded Riley. Mason watched her out of the corner of his eye.

  Lance was stationed across the concourse from Mason, and to the south. One of the guys circling Riley like she was fresh meat placed his arm around her shoulder. Lance shifted. His jaw was clenched tight enough to make the veins in his neck pop. Mason nearly busted out laughing. Lance had it bad for Riley. He knew the feeling, and tried to think about how he would feel if that were Jess, instead of Riley. His joviality slipped and a slight shiver overtook him.

  He’d smash the fucker in the face.

  Riley ducked from under the guy’s arm in one smooth movement. He grabbed her face with his free hand. Lance took a half step toward them, but stopped and tossed his trash into the receptacle next to him, quickly re-establishing his cover.

  Mason turned his attention back to Riley. She grabbed the guy’s wrist and bent it back until he dropped to the floor. When she let go, his buddies pulled him away before she embarrassed him even more.

  “Note to all of you,” Mason muttered over comms. “Riley just dropped some guy to his knees.” He sucked down the last bit of his drink and tossed the cup in the trash can. “She’s a fuckin’ badass.”

  Mason heard a chuckle. Lance. “Yeah, she is.”

  A man walked past Riley, did a double-take, said something to her, then walked away.

  “Riley is one popular chick,” another voice added. Lucas. “If the tangos never show, at least she has some opportunities for after-hours action.”

  “Bawm-chick-a-bawm-bawm,” a few voices chimed in. Lance’s head nearly exploded, and Mason choked down his laughter.

  Riley abruptly turned and started walking away. The comms went silent.

  Showtime.

  * * *

  Jess glanced at the large plate of nachos the waitress slide into the center of the table, and refilled Jess’s water glass. “Sure I can’t get you anything else to drink?” she asked Jess.

  “Water’s fine,” Jess replied for what must’ve been the hundredth time since they sat down. Would she like to suck down a pitcher of beer all by herself? Hell, yes. But that would come later. After her mother was back and Riley was safe.

  She hated that Riley was taking her place. She understood why—Riley was a trained CIA agent with mad skills—but it didn’t mean Jess had to like it. Too many people had been hurt and killed because of her recently. She didn’t want Riley to be the next name on that list.

  Mason either, as a matter of fact.

  The past few days, being with him, making love to him all night long, learning about his life. His dreams for the future. Discovering what types of food he loved while introducing him to some of her favorites. It had been hard to believe anything bad was looming just beyond their door.

  Their door.

  For the time being. Mason had gone above and beyond to make sure she thought of his apartment as her home, too. But it wasn’t true. None of this was real life. It was temporary. A life in flux. Tomorrow was not guaranteed. Fo
r either of them. Sure, they might actually make it out of this mess, but what did that mean for them? Was it feasible to believe that a relationship forged in a life-threatening situation could be sustainable?

  Was what Mason felt for her even real? Or was he just interested in her because he had a need to protect, and she was desperate for his protection.

  For that matter, was what she felt for him any more real?

  Her heart raced as a vision of him, a look of wonder and emotions she had never seen on a man’s face before. She was sure she was falling in love with him.

  What if once this was over, he didn’t feel the same? It was going to break her heart.

  “You should eat something,” Sean said, as he shoved the meat, bean, and cheese drenched chips in his mouth.

  How could guys eat in any situation?

  The last thing on Jess’s mind was food. A know in her stomach was tied in the mother of all pretzels. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

  “Suit yourself.” He passed a chip to his service dog, Apollo, who gobbled it up, and wagged his tail for another bite. She sucked down some more of her water, not really thirsty, but it was something to do. Of course, now she was squirming in her seat with a full bladder. She slid to the end of the bench.

  “What are you doing?” Sean asked.

  “Going to the restroom.”

  He wagged his head back and forth. “You need to wait until we get the all clear from the team.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she hoped to hell he was joking. “Are you serious?”

  His facial features hardened. “As a heart attack.”

  Groaning, she slid back to the opposite corner and pouted. If she had known she would be restricted from peeing, she would’ve been more careful about her liquid intake.

  She glared at Sean and grabbed a few nachos. First the waiting while everyone else risked their lives for her. Now, forced to cross her legs while her bladder was swimming.

  Could the day get worse?

  Chapter 17

  Sometimes the best way to give an alert signal, is to do exactly the opposite of what is expected or instructed.

  As soon as Riley walked away, Mason knew she had been contacted and given directions. Mason headed to where Lance stood. Peripherally, he watched two other teammates, Ben and Gabe, walk out the south exit. Their part in the op was to get the vehicle ready for transport—meaning, high tail it out of the arena before the RRA discovered their men missing.

  “Zed is on the move. Heading toward North exit,” Lance said over comms. They refrained from using their real names, even call signs, while on an op. Everyone was given either a number or letter for identification over comms. Zed was Riley.

  “Copy,” Lucas said. He had been standing farther up the concourse from Lance and Mason. “Three heading towards the north exit.”

  “C, do you and D have eyes on Zed?” Lance asked Jake, who was standing with Mick.

  “Affirmative, One,” Jake replied, using Lance’s code name. “Eyes on Zed, but she is not crossing towards the exit.”

  “Three, continue around to the east exit,” Lance ordered Lucas.

  “Roger, One.”

  Dex came over comms. “Four on the move.” He was taking up a new position near the east exit, not far from where the two-man team of Noah and Colt, code names E and F, were hanging out. Dex was the team’s medic. Along with Noah, Colt, and Mick, Air Force Parajumpers—or PJ’s—who also had medical training, they made up the medical team, and were vital to ensuring the next part of the plan went off without a hitch. There was a fine line between drugging someone and overdosing them.

  Dead men couldn’t answer questions.

  The team had studied every inch of the arena and come up with various scenarios of what if scenarios. Then they trained for nearly seventy-two hours straight. Every team member knew what to do and where to go when the shit hit the fan.

  The plan was simple: capture the men before they could get Riley off the premises. Simplicity was best when there was a lack of actual control over the circumstances and the need to improvise on the fly was high.

  Mason and Lance followed the man who had spoken to Riley earlier as he headed south, around the arena, making his way toward the east exit. The opposite route Riley was on.

  “E, be aware, Tango Alpha is currently tracking towards you from the south. Blonde. Black jacket. Two and myself are trailing behind.”

  “Copy, One.

  “Be advised, potential Tango Beta following Zed. Wearing a Bruins skull cap and a Khokhlachev jersey over a hooded sweatshirt. Hands are under jersey, look to be in the kangaroo pouch,” Jake said. “Tango Beta and Three are out of our line of sight. C and D are out.”

  “Copy, C,” Lance acknowledged. “See you on the flip side.”

  Jake and Mick were out the North exit, rounding the building to take up real estate outside the east door in case Riley was forced out through that exit.

  As Mason and Lance approached the East exit, Riley came into view. A man wearing a Bruins cap and jersey came up behind her and grabbed her elbow.

  “Tango Beta has made contact with Zed and is directing her towards the East exit doors,” Dex said.

  “E and F ready the syringes,” Lance ordered Noah and Colt.

  “Tango Alpha has joined Tango Beta and Zed. Heading toward exit door. Three and Four following behind,” Dex said. “Command, you seeing them?”

  “Affirmative, Four,” Holt said. He was manning the TOC back in Newport with Flaherty and Abbott. “Running facial recognition now.”

  Mason could barely see the two men pushing Riley through the mass of bodies. Noah and Colt managed to slip on either side of the Tangos. The men immediately thrashed. Fists flew at Noah and Colt. Lucas and Dex moved in behind the men and restrained them without being overly obvious. Noah and Colt plunged syringes filled with ketamine into the tangos.

  “Easy, man,” Lucas said to his bad guy. “Let’s get you outside and get some fresh air.”

  “Let me go, asshole,” the man screamed. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  A Bruins fan close beside them stepped up. “Everything alright here?” he asked. Lance and Mason joined the group, ready to physically remove the intruder from the doorway, if necessary.

  “Nah, it’s cool. Our buddies here can’t hold their liquor,” Lucas lied with a smile on his face. “They were starting fights with the people sitting around us in the stands. We’re just trying to get them out of here before we all get arrested.”

  The man glanced at the tangos, and apparently decided the excuse was good enough to let them pass. The ketamine was starting to take full effect, and the two men slumped against Lucas and Dex as they tried to hold them up and get them out the door.

  Mason moved in next to Dex to help with his guy, as Lance assisted Lucas. Outside the building, Riley stood with Jake and Mick.

  “You alright?” Lance asked Riley as they got closer.

  She nodded. “Fine.”

  “There’s our ride,” Mason said, nodding to the van that had just pulled up to the curb with Ben at the wheel. Mason, Lance and Riley stood on the sidewalk and watched as the rest of the team and the two bad guys loaded into the van.

  “We have ID’s on the tangos,” Holt said. “Luka Borsok and Sacha Krupin.”

  “Forrester’s buddies from the bar,” Mason said.

  “So where is suspect number three, Alexei Khil?” Lance asked.

  “Driving the getaway car, I’d guess,” Riley responded.

  “Regroup,” Holt said. “We have two of their guys, plus we still have their main object of desire, Jess.”

  Cold fear rushed through Mason’s chest, squeezed his heart, and turned to hot rage.

  Jess.

  She still wasn’t out of danger. But she was out of his sight. Out of his circle of protection. And that made Mason as nervous as a priest in a whorehouse.

  “We have more bargaining power,” Holt said. “Get Sean and Jess, and he
ad to Hanscom with the rest of the team.”

  * * *

  “Roger, out here.” Sean ended his call and placed the cell phone on the table. “All clear. We got the bad guys.”

  “What about my mom?” Jess asked.

  “They didn’t say, but I’m sure she’s fine.” His eyes softened as he gazed at her. Jess had to hand it to him. He was doing his best to be supportive. They barely knew each other, yet he was stuck here babysitting her while everyone else risked their lives for her.

  “How do you know these guys will talk?”

  Sean smiled. “We’re very persuasive.”

  She glanced around the bar. “So, now what?”

  “Mason, Lance, and Riley are on their way to pick us up. They should be here soon.”

  The ball of tension in her chest loosened. If Mason was on his way here, he was uninjured. And alive. “Okay, can I pee now?”

  Sean nodded.

  Maneuvering through the busy bar area, she made her way toward the hallway on the opposite side of the bar to where the restrooms were located. A man at the bar swiveled in his stool and glanced at her as she passed by. She stalled for a moment.

  He looks familiar? Where do I know him from?

  She continued on to the restrooms, wracking her brain to place the man. Must not have been someone she knew well. He didn’t seem to remember her any more than she remembered him. It was possible he just reminded her of someone she knew.

  After all, she didn’t know anyone in Boston.

  She finished her business, washed her hands, and checked her reflection in the mirror. Dark circles still rimmed her eyes, but Mason had done an excellent job of relieving her tension and stress over the past few days. The man had a way of working her body into such a frenzy she thought she might lose her mind during some of their lovemaking sessions.