The Omega Team: Lethal Intent (Kindle Worlds Novella) (MacKay Destiny Book 7)

by L. J. Garland

  The last time Lily had been summoned, she’d met with both Grey Holden and Athena Madero, co-owners of The Omega Team—a private agency that helped people in need as well as executed off-the-books work for the government. That meeting had resulted in Lily spending the last three months in Marseille, France, working undercover as a concierge for an upscale hotel while scoping out the players in a black market computer chip stealthware sale. By running a series of seemingly harmless commands on the sabotaged processors, a hacker could trigger a backdoor, gaining full access to an operating system. Any operating system in which the chip had been installed. From the President of the United States to the Chief of MI6 to the Central Military Commission of the Chinese People’s Liberation Army. If the black market chip was in the computer, anything and everything on that system was available to the hacker. Exactly how the Le Milieu corso-marseillais, aka The French Corsican mafia, had planned to use those chips and that virtually untraceable backdoor, she shivered to think.

  Thankfully, with the help of Omega’s crack computer ace, Jacquie LaSalle, who Lily had worked with many times, she’d been able to put a finger on the devilish snakes and called in the GIGN—the National Gendarmerie Intervention Group, France’s premier military counter-terrorism and hostage rescue unit—to round them up. By the time all was said and done, even the Corsican mafia’s godfather had been arrested—quite the feather in the GIGN’s hat.

  Peering out the tinted limousine window, Lily watched the Tampa landscape roll past as the car navigated Hillsborough Avenue, passing over myriad canals that snaked inland from the bay—not at all where she’d expected to be at this moment. With everything wrapped up in Marseille, she’d hopped on the company jet and headed home. But halfway across the Atlantic, the pilot informed her they’d been diverted from LaGuardia to Tampa International. It seemed Grey Holden had another job lined up for her before her feet hit the ground, and only a face-to-face meet would do.

  Though surprised by the change in itinerary, she didn’t mind the detour. Two years ago, the CIA dumped her. She’d been on the Syrian border, tracking a terrorist gun-running op when her handler sent her burn notice to her…via text message. Her cover had somehow been blown, and the CIA claimed complete deniability of any connection to her. Abandoned in hostile territory, she’d been forced to find her way back to the States with zero assistance.

  After three months back on American soil, she’d been no closer to learning who’d burned her. No one would speak with her, all ties with the company severed. With no real family or friends to speak of, she’d been at a desperate low point, unsure where to turn or who she could trust. Somehow, Grey had found her—in not-so-great shape financially and emotionally. And, yes, after her bank account mysteriously came up empty, her credit cards canceled, and half a dozen job interviewers rejected her for the most tenuous reasons, she’d been more than a little paranoid, too. So when Grey approached her, who could blame her for being suspicious?

  In the middle of Manhattan, he pulled out his cell phone and paid her back rent plus the next three months. Then he offered to buy her dinner at the corner restaurant just for the opportunity to talk with her. She’d agreed, her mouth watering in anticipation of the first real meal she’d had in some time. And though her instincts insisted he was a stand-up guy, her radar went off with his proposal to join Omega’s elite team and use her skills to help people. The whole deal just seemed too good to be true.

  “You make it sound like I’ll be saving the world.” She’d been in a bad place back then, but the sharp sarcasm rolling off her tongue hadn’t fazed Grey a bit.

  “You’ll have a job.” His steely gaze narrowed on her. “And a purpose, Lily. If what you do along the way happens to make the world a safer place, then all the better.”

  From Lily’s viewpoint, Grey and Athena had saved her. So when Omega called, she answered.

  The limo pulled up in front of an old warehouse, and the chauffer jumped out to open her door. Stepping from the climate-controlled vehicle, she lifted her gaze to peer at the building’s bland exterior. Grey had purchased this place for The Omega Team headquarters, and the fact he’d chosen it over some flashy high-rise made perfect sense. No need to be showy when the majority of Omega clients required the utmost discretion.

  “I was instructed to wait, ma’am.”

  Lily smiled at the driver. “Thank you.”

  Leaving her luggage in safe hands, she entered the building. What the outside lacked in flash, the inside more than made up for. Grey and Athena had spared no expense remodeling the interior, including every imaginable bell and whistle an agent could dream of—and much more. The armory of firearms alone would make any military general swoon with envy, and the three decked-out, bullet-proof SUVs housed at the other end of the building helped agents get the job done safely and in style. A high-end training room and fully stocked kitchenette rounded out the renovations. Though, rumor had it, a couple of plush apartments were in the works. Details conflicted, however, with some claiming the apartments would be used as a client safe house and others positive they were for any agent who needed to crash after a job. In her opinion, either or both possibilities would be good.

  Her sensible flats whispered over the thick carpet as she walked down the hallway. The offices seemed awfully quiet. Was today Friday or Saturday? Hmm, not that it mattered, she supposed. People came and went all the time.

  She passed by the door leading to the war room. That was where Jacquie LaSalle performed her magic, presiding over an electronics setup so advanced it looked like something out of a science fiction movie. After working with her the very first time, Lily had decided the CIA didn’t hold a candle to this woman. There was nothing she couldn’t trace and nothing she couldn’t find, and certainly nothing she couldn’t track.

  At the end of the hall, she paused at the door to Grey’s office then knocked twice.

  A moment later, the door swung open to reveal his smiling face. “Lily, so glad you’re here. Come in.” He stepped aside, allowing her entrance. “We’re over here.” Shutting the door behind her, he then swept his arm out, gesturing toward a sofa and two wingback chairs clustered around an oval glass-top coffee table. “Let me introduce you to our client.”

  A man, sitting in the chair with its back to the door, rose and turned to face them as Grey escorted her to the setting.

  “Lily, this is—”

  “William Harmon.” His name came out of her mouth half-growl, half-gasp. What the hell is he doing here?

  “Lily Vaughn.” He came around the chair—tall and lean in his tan pants and jacket, his white button-down open at the throat sans tie—and all the while those brown eyes evaluating her. Calculating. Gauging. “Good to see you.”

  He held out his hand. Not wanting to show any weakness, she set her fingers in his palm. He laid his other hand on top, capturing hers between his.

  “You look lovely as ever.” His smarmy grin left her seething and wary.

  She forced the corners of her mouth upward, going for a confident smile but having no clue if she achieved it. Screw it. Doesn’t matter. The past is the past. I don’t work with this jerk anymore. “And you haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Let’s sit.” Grey gestured toward the grouping, and the men took the chairs. She smoothed her palms down the front of her navy slacks as she sat on the couch across from them. “William arrived here just before you did, Lily. He’s hired Omega for a specific job that just came up, and he says it requires your skills.”

  “Is that so?” She arched a brow at Will. “I’m intrigued. How did you even know I worked for The Omega Team?” Tilting her head, she took on a teasing tone—though she had no doubt he knew she was anything but teasing. “Are you stalking me?”

  He had the audacity to chuckle. “It’s my business to know where assets are and how they may be used for the purpose of protecting our homeland as well as US interests around the world.”

  “Impressive.” Yeah, he was keeping tab
s on her. If she ever had a smidge of doubt he was the one who ended her CIA career, his answer just blew that all to hell. He was behind her burn notice. “So, do you have a new job, Will? Because that sounded like it came straight out of a recruitment brochure.”

  This time, Grey chuckled. “William works for the National Counterterrorism Center.”

  She nodded. “NCTC. Nice.” NCTC coordinated agencies at home and abroad in order to gather intel and bring down terrorist cells before they could strike. For Will, moving from the CIA to NCTC made perfect sense. He loved playing puppet master at the highest—and physically safest—levels. She turned to him. “I’m sure with your skills it’s a perfect fit. Congratulations.”

  “So, William.” Grey shifted toward the other man. “When you called, you said this job had to do with a terrorist who is currently in the US?”

  “Yes. We suspect he is.”

  She arched a brow. “Suspect?”

  His intense brown gaze turned to her. “Yes.”

  “How can you suspect and not know?” She waved her hand in the air. “You have all these other agencies you coordinate with to keep track of everything for you.”

  In her peripheral vision, she caught Grey’s disapproving stare. Yeah, she needed to dial it back a notch. But Grey didn’t know Will like she did. The manipulator. The master CIA spy. The vindictive poser.

  And she could never tell anyone, either. Least of all Grey. Anything that came out of her mouth would sound like she was the one holding the grudge.

  Kissing William Harmon while on assignment in Kazakhstan had been a mistake—one she regretted to this day. One too many vodka shots combined with a mission success had somehow overcome the lack of chemistry she had with Agent Harmon and led to a spit-laden, overzealous mashing of lips. Zero sparks. Zero attraction. One hundred percent bleh. She’d realized the error before she’d even managed to break free of his grasp. He, however, must’ve seen fireworks because he’d tried to lure her to his room—which she’d politely declined. But he didn’t give up, showing up now and again in the same country she did, supposedly on a support mission, except, at some point, he’d propose a rendezvous in his room. She’d never accepted. A year before her burn notice, he’d stopped magically appearing. She’d believed he finally got the message she wasn’t interested.

  And then she’d gotten his message.

  Grey leaned forward. “William, perhaps you could start at the beginning and tell us what you can so we can better assess how to approach this mission.”

  He nodded. “Three months ago, there was an incident at a temporary base in Afghanistan. Sensitive missions took place there. Then a fuel truck exploded on the flight line, and all hell broke loose. Everyone focused on putting the fire out before it destroyed any more planes. By the time it was over, something worse was discovered. A young female lieutenant had been murdered.”

  “Did she die in the fuel truck explosion?” Lily asked.

  “No. Her throat was slit.”

  Grey frowned. “So destroying aircraft wasn’t the goal. The fire was a diversion. What were they really after?”

  “Whoever did it tried to cover their tracks with another fire, but soldiers put it out before too much evidence was destroyed. From what we could tell, the last file the lieutenant accessed on her computer was a list of drone pilots who’d flown missions from that base for the last six months. Over a dozen names were on the list. And they’re all back in the States now.”

  Grey nodded. “Hidalgo, Texas.”

  Lily shifted her focus to him. “I’ve been out of the country for the last three months. What happened in Hidalgo, Texas?”

  “Two weeks ago, a truck exploded at the border checkpoint,” he told her.

  “People were killed, and total chaos followed,” Will added. “Whoever did it knew what they were doing and chose the highest traffic time to set off the bomb.”

  Grey turned to Omega’s latest client. “And you believe your terrorist used that diversion to get into the States without detection.”

  Will nodded.

  Okay. She could see the pattern. “But you know where all the pilots are. Surely, you’ve got them on lockdown.”

  “The ones still in service, yes. But we’ve got two who’ve been discharged over the last six months.”

  She frowned. “And you haven’t sent anyone to protect them?”

  “That’s just it.” Will leaned forward, setting his forearms on his knees. “CIA, Homeland Security, FBI? They won’t make a move on suppositions. To them, this is all guesswork and hypotheticals. They see the explosions as coincidence. We have no proof, no picture of who’s behind this. And they can’t afford the manpower to protect two civilians for who knows how long because we think they may be in danger.”

  “Local police?” she suggested.

  He shook his head. “Not an option. This is Top Secret. If we involve the local PD, they’ll ask questions we can’t answer. No, this needs to be taken care of quietly.”

  She made the obvious leap in logic for what her next assignment would be. “Well, I can’t watch two pilots at once.”

  “I’ve got another agent lined up to watch one,” Grey told her.

  “And I get the other.”

  The corners of Will’s mouth curled upward in a gotcha smile. Why did she feel as though she’d be caught in his web again?

  “Yes. But you can’t tell him who you are or what you’re doing or why.” He sliced the air with his hand. “Nothing. While he may have flown missions in Afghanistan, he’s a civilian now and no longer holds Top Secret clearance. You are only to observe and report any suspicious activity.”

  Babysitting? She suppressed a sigh and faced Grey. “So how long is this mission going to last?” She still had an apartment in Manhattan she’d like to go home to…but apparently that wasn’t happening any time soon.

  “Two to three months. Six tops.”

  “Six months!” Undercover surveillance for six months? Why did she even bother keeping her apartment? She never got to use it.

  “I’ve got Jacquie on it,” he assured her. “William is sending her all the information the Air Force, CIA, FBI, and other agencies have gathered.”

  If anyone could connect the ambiguous dots and figure out who was behind this mess, it was Jacquie. That woman worked miracles. Lily just hoped she worked them fast.

  “When do I find out who I’m watching and where I’m going?”

  Reaching down next, Will dug in a black satchel that leaned against his chair. He withdrew a manila file folder and held it out to her. “His name is Jamie MacKay, and he’s currently in a small town in Northern California called Cedar Valley.”

  Chapter Three

  “And how long will you be staying with us?” A guy whose name tag read Van typed rapid-fire on a computer keyboard.

  “I’m not sure.” Lily leaned against the Black Bear Lodge check-in counter, the same bags she’d taken to Marseilles sitting next to her on the rustic wood plank floor. “Can I pay by the week?”

  Van looked at her, his wide smile lighting his round face. “Yes, ma’am. Would you like to stay here at the lodge or in one of our cabins on the property?”

  If she ended up being here for a while, a little privacy would go a long way. “Do the cabins have amenities?”

  “Yes. There’s a kitchenette, full bath, and weekly maid service.”

  “Is there a washer and dryer?” If the only place to wash her clothes was at the lodge, she’d stay here—no sense dragging her unmentionables through the woods.

  He nodded. “There’s a full-size washer and dryer in each cabin, as well as two flat screen TVs with cable. The television in the main living area has a Blu-ray player and is also game box ready.”

  “Wish I’d known.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “Left my Xbox at home.”

  “I hear you. Nights out here at the lodge get dark and pretty boring. There’s a shop in town, Beast Mode, that can take care of you. You can rent a system and gam
es. Movies, too.”

  “Thanks. I’ll check it out.” Not. All her time would be spent watching Jamie MacKay and keeping an eye out for anything terrorist related. “I’ll take a cabin, then.”

  “Great. If I can have your credit card, I’ll get you set up.”

  She handed it over.

  “I’ll put you in cabin three.” Tap, tap, tap. “It’s got a bigger flat screen in the living room. Better sound, too.”

  A few moments later, Van pushed a key across the counter. “Here you go. And if you’re looking for anything to do around Cedar Valley”—he jerked his thumb to the left—“you can check out those brochures over there in the rack.”

  “Thanks.” Turning, she exited the main lodge, eyeing the stuffed black bear near the entrance.

  After dropping off her suitcase, she headed into town. William may have given her a dossier on Jamie MacKay, but it was always good to get the lay of the land. In Cedar Valley, she drove down the central road, aptly named Main Street, and parked near a drug store. Getting out, she walked along the sidewalk—in the opposite direction from the bakery the file said Jamie had received from his aunt. She’d head back that way after checking out this end of town.

  A shop door opened, and a woman came out. As she passed, the woman nodded.

  “Afternoon.”

  Lily smiled. “Hello.”

  Though nothing like Marseille with its hustle and bustle, sophistication, and high-end shops, Cedar Valley possessed a charm all its own. Quiet, quaint, sociable. The town held a unique charm. Definitely a great place to visit. But could she spend six months here without going stir crazy?

  ***

  Jamie set the tray of tiny cake concoctions he’d cooked up last night and slathered with icing this morning onto a shelf in the bakery cooler. His cousins, Brigit and Kat, would be here this afternoon for their proclaimed cake tasting. After seeing their excited faces, he couldn’t tell them no.

  So, yesterday, he’d trekked it down to Sacramento, stopped at the first grocery store he spotted, and purchased everything he thought he’d need to make the cakelettes. Boxed cake mixes—carrot, lemon, vanilla, fudge. Canned icing—whipped vanilla, chocolate fudge, cream cheese, buttercream. And then any other thing he could come up with—pecans, peanut butter, chocolate bars, coconut, apple jelly, marshmallow in a jar, cherry pie filling. Brigit asked for red velvet, he bought blue velvet. Kat asked for chocolate, he bought German chocolate. The way he saw it, the only way he could get out of this wedding cake commitment was to create something for his cousins they would absolutely hate.