Dirty Tactics (Special Weapons & Tactics Book 1)

by Peyton Banks

  Dirty Tactics

  Special Weapons & Tactics 1

  Peyton Banks

  Contents

  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

  Epilogue

  A Note From the Author

  About the Author

  Also by Peyton Banks

  Taken by the Billionaire

  Copyright © 2018 by Peyton Banks

  Editor: Emmy Ellis with Studioenp

  Cover Design by Studioenp

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, events, and incidents are a figment of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, businesses, locations, history, and events are a coincidence.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Created with Vellum

  When love is not madness it is not love.”

  ― Pedro Calderón de la Barca

  Chapter 1

  The tension was thick in the air. Mac willed his heart to slow down as they approached the brick apartment building. His MP5 was comforting to him—he aimed it well. His team, Team Alpha of the Columbia SWAT, was one of the best in the state of South Carolina.

  Today, they were infiltrating a well-known crack house and they were to obtain a notorious drug dealer that, according to a trusted informant, would be in the building today.

  Sergeant Marcas MacArthur was leading his men into this building to safely secure the premises and obtain the target. SWAT officers were trained for high-risk situations such as serving a warrant for a dangerous target.

  Together, the four-man team trailed behind each other without making a sound. Brodie, his entry man, was in front of Mac with Declan and Ashton pulling up the rear. They approached the door with Mac issuing hand signals for Declan and Ashton to move to the opposite side of the doorframe. All men were ready to breach the building, decked out in their black tactical gear with SWAT brandished on their ballistic vests.

  The other three members of their team were posted outside. Myles, the sniper, would be posted with his rifle drawn and ready, if needed. Zain and Iker were located out back to cover the rear door should the target try to escape.

  Mac’s eyes met those of Declan’s through his dark goggles. Their faces were hidden by their black masks, leaving only their eyes visible through their goggles. Their bodies resembled shadows in their protective gear, their weapons dark shapes.

  As members of such a team, there was a blind trust between all members. They went into highly dangerous operations almost daily and had to know that they could trust each other.

  He signaled for his men to hold to allow Brodie to use the ram to burst open the door. Mac would enter first with Declan and Ashton falling in behind him. Brodie would enter last, covering their backs as he entered the building. They had practiced this entry hundreds of times and had it down to a science. He tightened his grip on his weapon as Brodie turned and nodded, signaling he was ready.

  They all watched him draw back his ram and swing it, slamming open the door with one mighty blow. Mac instantly flew into the room with his assault weapon high, sweeping the area. He could feel his men behind him. He swept his gaze over the corner he was to clear and found nothing. Old furniture lined the space. Declan cleared the other side. They silently moved to the hallway. Communication would be the use of hand signals, and if separated, they would then use their communicators.

  Screams echoed through the hallway where a rundown-looking woman stood frozen. The expression of fear shone on her face. Two men came up behind her, releasing curses and drawing their weapons from behind them.

  “CPD!” Mac shouted, identifying their team. “Put your hands in the air!”

  He really didn’t feel like having to do the mountains of paperwork that would be required if he shot someone.

  Instead of doing what he asked, the three turned and ran. The team pursued the targets as they’d practiced. They quickly moved through the building, guns up and eyes trained on them.

  This was a dangerous situation. Targets with guns, running scared, could make an easy raid turn deadly.

  Mac could feel Declan behind him as they took the hallway the first man had gone down. He fit the description of the drug dealer they were after. The back entrance of the building was covered by the other members of their team, leaving him nowhere to run. They slowly made their way down the corridor, alert and fingers on the trigger as they crept forward.

  Mac’s heart raced with the anticipation of the hunt. Visions of his past life in the desert as a SEAL flashed before his eyes. He blinked, clearing his vision.

  This wasn’t Afghanistan.

  He again tightened his grip on his MP5, getting comfort from his weapon. They came upon a room with the door slightly ajar. He slowed and motioned for Declan to hold.

  He pushed the door open and found it to be an old office. He caught sight of another door inside. He pushed forward into the room, sweeping it with his eyes and weapon to ensure it was clear. Declan eased in as they both turned toward the door.

  Mac slowly moved forward and reached with one hand and swung the door fully open.

  “Don’t shoot!” the guy hollered, kneeling on the floor of the closet.

  “Throw your weapon on the floor and come out with your hands where I can see them,” Mac growled. His weapon was aimed on the man while he did as he’d been ordered. The handgun slid across the floor.

  Declan kicked it out of the way.

  “Just don’t shoot. I’m coming out,” the man snapped. His beady eyes flickered between Mac and Declan, who both had their weapons trained on him.

  “Come out and keep your hands where I can see them,” Mac demanded again.

  The man obeyed.

  “On your knees and turn around,” Mac announced.

  The man complied and released a curse as Declan swiftly moved in behind him. Declan followed standard procedures in ensuring the drug dealer didn’t have any other weapons on him.

  Mac kept his weapon sighted on the man, and Declan zip-tied his wrists behind him.

  “Clear.” Ashton’s voice came through his earpiece. “Other targets obtained and secured.”

  “Let’s move through and finish clearing the building,” Mac growled into the mic.

  They would clear the building and ensure it was safe. He would only be satisfied once his team left and there were no casualties.

  Job well done,” Mac announced to his team as they rode in the BEAR, their tactical armored vehicle. The spirits were high as there were no causalities, no need for deadly force, and the target was obtained.

  This was why SWAT was needed. For a situation that could have turned deadly for untrained officers, it had been an easy raid for his men.

  “We’re still on for your house tonight, right?” Ashton called out, his grin wide.

  Mac held quarterly barbecues at his home for his team. This was something he’d started years ago to reward his cre
w and give them a chance to hang out together and blow off steam. It promoted bonding amongst the men, and they all looked forward to it. They all were off call this weekend.

  The bravo team would be on call and covering, which would allow his men to relax and rest.

  “Beers have been chilling in the fridge for days.” Mac nodded, and cheers and whistles echoed throughout the small cabin that housed them for the ride.

  Conversation turned to grilling, food tips, and the items they were all bringing. Mac leaned back, pride filling his chest as he took in his unit. Just an hour ago, his men had been focused and highly armed, as if going into war on the streets of Columbia. Protecting the public was something that was ingrained in all of them.

  Ashton Fraser, the funny man, had spent ten years on the police force before being accepted into SWAT. He was an accomplished negotiator and had handled many hostage situations.

  Brodie Gibson, the squad’s entry man, had spent time in Special Forces, which gave him the perfect background to join SWAT when he entered the police force.

  Myles Burton, their sniper, was another Special Forces recruit to the police force when he took to civilian life. His skills with a gun were unmatched by anyone.

  Declan Owen, Mac’s best friend, had banded with the team the same as Mac had. They had served together in the Navy. SEALs, they were. Both of them were highly trained in combat and had completed tours overseas together and had grown close over the years. Mac couldn’t think of another person who he’d rather have in his group now.

  Zain Roman and Iker Baldwin had served on the police force for years and made SWAT through hard work and perseverance.

  His squad was top in the state. They had won many commendations from the state’s governor and the mayor of the city.

  “Hope the steaks are big and juicy. I can eat a fucking horse right now,” Zain grumbled, rubbing his belly.

  The men chuckled as Zain exaggerated his hunger.

  “Don’t worry. I made sure the butcher cut them just right.” Mac nodded, his lips turning up in a small smile. He had ensured that he’d have plenty of food for his men. They deserved the best.

  Cheers went around the cabin. He knew they would eat him out of house and home tonight, but he couldn’t care less.

  “We’re going to have a good time. We get tonight and tomorrow off. Back on Sunday at 0800 hours.” Mac nodded toward the group.

  “Nothing but beer and football for me,” Brodie announced, leaning forward to perch his elbows on his knees.

  “Hear, hear!”

  The plan sounded good to Mac.

  It sounded damn good to him.

  Chapter 2

  The sounds of music and laughter filled the air outside Sarena Rucker’s house. She had moved into her home a couple months before and had met all of her neighbors except the one holding a party in his backyard.

  The smell of delicious barbecue was flowing through her open windows, and her stomach rumbled. She was tempted to crash her neighbor’s party just to grab a plate and chuckled as she stretched out on her couch. Tonight she was off work and would be a couch potato. She was sure if she wanted, she could call her best friend, Ronnie, for a fun night out on the town.

  Not tonight.

  Tonight, she wanted to drink her wine and binge on all her shows she was behind on.

  But the smell of the food was calling her.

  Okay, maybe she should eat food with her wine, but that would mean she’d have to get up and cook.

  Not happening.

  She grabbed her phone and placed a call to her favorite Chinese restaurant that delivered. Within seconds, her food was ordered with the promise of delivery in about forty-five minutes.

  “This is going to be a perfect night,” she murmured as she aimed the remote at her DVR and hit her first show. “Wine and dine myself tonight.”

  Her thoughts turned back to her party-throwing neighbor. Every time she saw him, she practically drooled. She was sure that any woman with a pulse threw herself at him. Why wouldn’t they? He was extremely tall compared to Sarena’s five-foot-four frame. Muscles on top of muscles that he always had on display when he cut his grass. She lived for Sundays when he was out in the yard topless with a pair of shorts on while he mowed his lawn.

  Just thinking of him pushing the lawnmower caused a shiver to slide down her spine. His chest glistened with perspiration on sunny mornings. She wasn’t ashamed to admit that a couple of times she’d slid her fingers between her moist folds and flicked her bean till she climaxed watching him.

  Nope, not at all.

  That’s how hot her neighbor was.

  Marcas MacArthur was downright sexy, and him being a cop just fulfilled her fantasies of him all the more. Her elderly neighbor, Janet, was the street gossip and had told Sarena all she needed to know about Officer MacArthur.

  Ex-Navy. Cop. Single.

  Now all Sarena had to do was work up the nerve to approach the man.

  She looked over at her wineglass and noticed it was empty.

  “Refill time,” she muttered and swung her legs off the couch. She stood and walked into her kitchen, breathing in the mouth-watering smell of barbecue still making its way in through the window.

  Nosey, she moved over to stare out into the backyard. Quite a few men stood around his patio. Smoke lingered in the air, but she was able to see the men were all muscular and tall. Her mouth dropped open.

  “Maybe I should call Ronnie over here.” She chuckled. She knew her best friend would have a heart attack with all the good-looking man specimens in her neighbor’s yard.

  She gazed around her kitchen to see what excuse she could use to step out into her backyard so she could get a better glimpse of her neighbor. Her gaze fell on her trashcan.

  How about that? It was full. Now she wouldn’t be a good homeowner, allowing her trash to be full, would she?

  She glanced down at her clothes. Shorts that stopped mid-thigh and a t-shirt that cut off above her belly button, showing off her smooth brown skin. She was thick and knew her curves attracted most men. She bit her lip, her confidence wavering as she thought of her neighbor. He was the epitome of fitness, while she was short, thick, and curvy.

  Recently, she had started running to try to get in shape. She didn’t want to lose her curves but wanted to ensure she was healthy.

  According to Janet, he had his team over every few months or so. This must be what she had been speaking of.

  She moved over and grabbed her trash, tying it closed, then opened her back door. She made her way over to her detached garage. She could instantly feel eyes on her as she walked barefoot across her yard.

  Conversation at the party ceased.

  She bit back a smirk and innocently placed her trash into her large garbage can that sat next to her garage. She knew Marcas was looking at her. She could always tell when she was out jogging that he watched her. Even the few times she had passed him when he was on his front porch, she’d felt his eyes on her.

  Her nipples tightened, and she turned. Her breath caught in her throat, just imagining his eyes taking her in, and moisture collected within her folds. All of the men in his yard looked as if they were perfectly chiseled sex Gods, but she only had eyes for one of them.

  She began the return trek to her back porch and put a little more twist in her hips as she walked. She flipped her dark curls over her shoulder and allowed her gaze to flicker over to the party.

  Five guys were frozen in place, none of them hiding the fact that they were watching her. She ignored Marcas’s gaze and met the eyes of one of the shorter men with blond, spiked hair. She threw him a bright smile before heading back into the house. She closed the door behind her, and her smile widened.

  She had officially made her move.

  Mac had locked his gaze on Sarena the minute she’d appeared in her back yard. He’d taken notice of the way his men looked at her, too. He bit back a curse at the hunger in their eyes. None of them had hidden the fact that the
y were openly watching her.

  Sarena Rucker, with her beautiful bronze skin, deep dimples in each cheek, was a registered nurse who worked in the local emergency room. He made it his business to know his neighbors. She had moved in next door a couple of months ago.

  His cock grew stiff just thinking of the times he’d seen her out jogging. Her barely there clothes did nothing to hide her delicious curves. The swell of her hips was enough to bring a man to his knees.

  He’d bitten back a growl at the smile she’d tossed Brodie’s way. A new feeling crept up in his chest.

  Was that jealousy?

  Never before had he experienced it, but today, for some odd reason, his fist wanted to connect with Brodie’s wide grin.

  A whistle cut through the air as she went back into her home.

  “Who the hell is that?”

  “Mac, you’ve been holding out! When did that brown-skinned goddess move in?”

  “Is she single?”

  Questions immediately shot out from his team, and they began discussing Sarena.

  Mac put his attention back on the grill and raised the chilled bottleneck to his lips, pulling a long swig from it. He tended to the grill, his thoughts still on his sexy neighbor.

  “Her name is Sarena. She moved in two months ago, and yes, she’s single,” he answered unconsciously.

  The conversation halted again. He turned his head and found all eyes on him. He shrugged and kept all emotion from his face.

  “You’ve met her?” Ashton asked, his eyebrows raised.

  “No. Ran a background check on her,” he admitted, turning back to the grill. He could feel the stunned eyes of his team on him at his announcement.