Special Forces_Operation Alpha_Cheating the Devil_A Deimos/Trident Security/Delta Team Crossover

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Special Forces_Operation Alpha_Cheating the Devil_A Deimos/Trident Security/Delta Team Crossover Page 6

by Samantha A. Cole


  Reaching over, Carter brushed his thumb along her jaw. “I’ll go to the bar and get you another when you’re ready for it.”

  Her facial features softened as she leaned into his touch. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  Brad leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “Now that that’s taken care of, want to tell me what you’re doing here?”

  Carter shrugged and then relaxed back in his chair as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t one-hundred percent aware of their surroundings. He could probably rattle off astute observations he’d made about every person around them, having analyzed everyone’s threat potential within minutes of arriving. “We were visiting friends on Caicos and had a few more days off. Haven mentioned you and Avery were here, so we decided to take the ninety-minute flight to say hi. It’s been a while since we visited Aruba, and it’s one of Jordy’s favorite islands.”

  That big lie was for Cameron’s benefit. Brad didn’t question the “friends on Caicos,” because he’d heard them mention knowing people on the small Caribbean island before—a couple named Jase and Brie. That had probably been the truth. That it was one of Ms. Alvarez’s favorite islands might also be true. The stopping by and saying “hi” had been the lie. These two people didn’t just show up out of the blue without a reason. Haven had to have told them about Avery and Brad’s suspicions someone had been following them, and she’d sent them as backup. Well, when it came to his woman and his daughter, Brad wasn’t too proud to ask for help. Having the two spies watching their six made him feel a lot better. He also didn’t doubt they came by private jet, ensuring they could bring some serious fire power with them. There would be no kid dropping off a loaded, black duffel bag.

  “Well, then, glad you could join us. You manage to get a room here?”

  “Yes,” Jordyn responded. “We’re on the third floor.” It didn’t surprise Brad they were on the same floor as him and Avery. Lori and Cameron had the room across the hall from them, and it was a sure bet Jordyn and Carter now occupied one of the four rooms next to either of those two. “Where are Avery and Lori?”

  “Out shopping at some huge market; they should be back soon.” But twenty minutes later, with still no sign of the two women, nor a call from them, the four of them started to get concerned. Brad had called Avery’s phone again, while Cameron had tried to reach Lori. Both calls had gone to voice mail.

  Carter set his beer down. “Brad, why don’t you take the kid here, and we’ll follow you to the market and see if we can find them. Leave word at the concierge for them to call you if Avery and Lori show up.”

  As they all stood, Brad nodded. “Yeah, but I think we need to get Cameron some gear first. You have extra?”

  “Of course,” Carter answered with an eye roll as if it’d been an inane question in the first place.

  Cameron’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  Cocking his head toward the hotel, Brad said, “We’ll explain upstairs.”

  When they reached the spies’ room, Jordyn grabbed some clothes and ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Meanwhile, Brad told Cameron about Avery’s suspicions that someone had been tailing her. “We haven’t been approached by anyone, and aside from the two men at the bar last night, no one else has raised a red flag. Avery’s carrying and is former black-ops—it’s the only reason I let them out of my sight today.”

  Carter then gave Cameron a very abbreviated version of who he and Jordyn really were, along with a loaded Smith & Wesson 9mm with two spare clips and a holster. “All you need to know, kid, is we’re the good guys, with more US-government clearance than you’ll ever know, even after you end up in special-ops.” Yup, Haven had definitely passed on a lot of intel about Cameron.

  Taking the weapon, the young Marine checked the clip and chamber to make sure they were loaded. He then holstered it at his lower back and put the spare clips in the cargo pocket on the side of his thigh. “And if I ever mention your name after this I’ll end up six-feet under somewhere and they’ll never find my body, right?”

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Carter grinned broadly. “Something like that.” He looked at Brad and cocked his head back toward Cameron. “I like him. He’d fit in well with the Trident boys. You know how Ian loves sarcasm.”

  Brad snorted. “Ian is the definition of the word. I wouldn’t be surprised to see his photo next to it in the dictionary.”

  “True that.”

  The door to the bathroom swung open again, and Jordyn walked out dressed in a pair of multi-pocketed capri pants and a loose shirt that would hide any weapons on her body. As she loaded up with several firearms and knives, Carter handed Brad a legal gun, which he placed at the small of his back. He then strapped a holster to his ankle and stuck the gun Haven had had delivered into it. Since it was a weapon with a questionable background, it was best he didn’t use it, but it still might come in handy later. He didn’t want to think about why. For now, there was a more important matter at hand—finding his woman and daughter.

  Chapter Nine

  His heart pounding, Brad pulled the keys out of his pocket as he and Cameron jogged toward the rental car. Jordyn and Carter were heading toward a tan SUV a few spaces down. They’d gotten directions to the market from the concierge. It was about a ten-minute drive down a winding road into the main town and then a few blocks over from there. Brad prayed the women hadn’t gotten into trouble and would be passing them along the way. He knew they’d gotten there okay several hours earlier because Avery had sent him a text, with two photos, asking what color he preferred for a shirt she’d wanted to get him. He’d gotten a warm feeling in his chest as he’d typed in an answer to her. It had been a long time since a woman had bought him something with his input. Some women had gifted him with clothes, but most of the time it’d been something he’d never pick out for himself, much less wear, but Avery had found a shirt that was definitely his style. Damn, he loved that woman.

  After a little over two miles, they came around a curve and Brad slowed the vehicle to a stop. There was a police car and a tow truck idling on the side of the road with their lights flashing. A heavy winch was dragging a demolished taxi up a small incline at the side of the road, where it had apparently hit a tree. Pulling onto the opposite shoulder, Brad left the car running as he jumped out with Cameron following. Jordyn and Carter joined them as they approached the police officer and tow truck driver.

  Brad addressed the cop. “Excuse me. Can you tell me if two women were in there?”

  The uniformed man shook his head. “Only person in there was a male driver. He’s on his way to the hospital in critical condition.”

  “Was he thrown out of the vehicle?” Carter asked as he eyed the missing rear passenger window on the driver’s side of the mini-van, as the tow truck operator made some adjustments to the winch.

  “No. He was found in the driver’s seat.”

  “Then whose blood is this?” He pointed to several drops and smears of red on the window frame.

  “There’s blood on this window too,” Jordyn announced from the other side as she slid open the door to inspect the back seat.

  The cop shook his head again, this time in confusion. “I have no idea. The driver was the only occupant. Witnesses who came upon the accident shortly after it happened never mentioned seeing any passengers. The blood must be from when the paramedics were taking him out.”

  “How long ago did the accident happen?” Brad asked, his panic rising.

  “About a half hour ago.”

  Jordyn came back around holding something in her closed hand. She furtively gestured to Brad, Carter, and Cameron to head back to where their vehicles waited for them on the other side of the road. When they were out of the cop’s earshot, Jordyn opened her fist, and Brad’s heart clenched when he saw what she was holding. It was a gold necklace with a charm on it. He knew without looking closer it was a St. Agatha
medal—the patron saint of nurses. Avery and her friend, Judi, had gotten matching ones after graduating from nursing school. Avery rarely took hers off.

  Swallowing hard, fear coursing through him, he held out his hand, and Jordyn placed the delicate piece of jewelry in it as Carter pulled out his cell phone and hit a speed dial button. When the call connected, he said, “Haven, it’s Carter. I need you to ping Avery’s phone. If there’s no response, activate her tracker.”

  Shit, Brad had forgotten all about that. Apparently, all Deimos operatives and support staff had a small implant that’d been inserted under their skin near their shoulder blades in case they went missing. The device would be activated only in emergencies or if someone went rogue. Avery’s was still in place, even though she was no longer an agent.

  As Jordyn whipped out her phone and began to make a call, most likely to Gene McDaniel, their boss, Brad’s own phone rang. His hope that it was Avery calling died quickly when he saw the name on the screen. Swiping the screen, he answered the call. “Barton.”

  “What’s going on, Colonel?” Frisco asked. Evidently, he was in the same room as his fiancée.

  “Avery and Lori took a taxi into town to shop at an outdoor market a few hours ago. When they didn’t come back, and we couldn’t get them on their phones, we headed toward the market to search for them. We came upon an accident involving a taxi. There’s evidence there were more occupants than just the driver, but no one knows who they were or where they went, but it had to be Avery and Lori. Jordyn found Avery’s St. Agatha medal in the back seat.”

  “Shit. Do you want me to call the base and get a team down there?”

  Brad’s mind was ready to explode. As much as he wanted to call in every Delta operative under his command, he couldn’t. Using military personnel for personal reasons was broadly frowned upon and could get him in a ton of trouble with his superiors—especially since they weren’t on US soil. He also hoped they found Avery and Lori long before the Deltas could get boots on the island. He eyed the two Deimos spies and Cameron. He knew, just like him, they’d move heaven and earth to find the two women, and God help anyone who got in their way.

  “No. Hold off on that for now. We have to figure out what we’re dealing with first.”

  “Understood, sir. Should I at least call Colonel Sheppard, Captain Bryson, and Captain Nielsen and give them a head’s up?” Frisco’s and Ghost’s teams were the only two currently stateside. The third team under Brad’s command was currently on the other side of the world, being monitored by Sheppard in Texas.

  Dragging a hand down his face, the coarse, days-old facial hair rasping against his palm, Brad tried to focus. It was Carter’s spat curse behind him that spurred him into action again. “Yeah, tell them.” Without another word, he disconnected the call, knowing his subordinate wouldn’t be offended, and even if he was, it didn’t matter. All that did matter now was getting Avery and Lori back. He turned to face the spy, hoping whatever bad news he’d gotten was something they could work around.

  “Keep trying,” Carter said to Haven. “Call me as soon as you have anything.” He hung up the phone. “It pinged once on the north end of the island before it disappeared. There’s a glitch in the satellite; the techs at HQ are trying to unscramble it. All we have is a general area.”

  After disconnecting her call, Jordyn rejoined them. “Gene’s trying to find some nearby help, but it might take them more than a few hours to get here. It depends on how fast he can get ahold of them.” She eyed Carter. “Jase and additional gear are a phone call and ninety minutes away. Two hours with land travel time.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. We’ve got time to kill until we get more intel.” The spy pulled out his phone again, dialed, and waited a moment for the call to connect. “A-man, your services are needed. Tell me you’ve got access to a plane and can get to Aruba, locked and loaded, in under two hours; it’s an emergency.” He paused. “Awesome. Get me on the phone when you land, and I’ll give you a rendezvous point.” He didn’t put the phone away, instead, made another call. “Reardon, Avery and . . . of course, Haven already called you. Get that artificial intelligence of yours running through the list of residents on Aruba. Start with the passports, and if nothing hits, move onto the airline manifests for the past two weeks, local driver’s licenses, and arrest records, in that order . . . I know the population is just over 100,000 people without the damn tourists—just do it. She didn’t have the feeling of being watched until they landed on the island, so my guess is whoever it is was already here. I want to know if any names crossmatch with Avery’s past missions . . . Don’t worry; we’ll find them . . . Yeah, good.”

  “What now?” Cameron asked after Carter ended the call. “Are we calling in the cops or doing this ourselves?”

  Brad studied the two spies for a moment before answering. “We’re on our own, for now. If this has something to do with Avery’s past, which is a big possibility, the cops will just fuck it up. Hell, it’ll take too long to convince them there’s something more going on than two tourists who lost track of time.”

  “I agree.” Carter nodded as he glanced at the phone in his hand after it chirped with incoming text. “Haven’s arms contact is agreeing to meet us with some more firepower and gear. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Avery, wake up. Please, please, wake up.”

  Lori’s insistent, anguished whispering filtered into Avery’s scrambled mind, but it was quickly shoved out again by the pain coursing through her body. Everything hurt—and that was an understatement. She’d been injured before—broken bones and a few wounds needing stitches—but with a normally high tolerance for pain, never had the word “agony” been something she could physically relate to. Until now. Shit.

  She blinked her eyes and had a moment of panic when everything remained pitch dark. Was she blind? She gently moved her head to the side. Oh, thank God. There was a small sliver of light coming from under a closed door. Unfortunately, it didn’t illuminate much beyond an inch or two into the room. Movement from her left told her where Lori was, and Avery reached out to touch her, finding her thigh and causing the young woman to gasp with relief. Avery squeezed Lori’s leg. “I’m here, wherever here is. Are you okay?”

  “I-I think so, but my shoulder’s dislocated, and I have a cut on my forehead that was bleeding. I think it’s stopped, or at least slowed, but I can’t get my damn shoulder back in. It’s popped out before, and I’ve always had to go to the ER to get it put back in.” Although Avery couldn’t see the younger woman, it sounded like she was gritting her teeth from the pain. “Where are we and why? Who were those men that took us?”

  Those were the million-dollar questions. Too bad she didn’t have the answers—yet.

  “I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even know what caused the accident.”

  “As we came around the curve, that van that’d passed us was stopped, blocking the road. Our driver slammed on the brakes and lost control. Next thing I knew, we were being yanked out of the taxi.”

  Avery had a vague recollection of being pulled through the taxi’s window, not that it mattered now. “Did you lose consciousness at any point? Any idea if we’re still in Aruba?”

  “Yeah, we are. They drove about . . . I don’t know . . . twenty minutes, maybe longer. It was hard to tell. They handcuffed us to a bar in the van, then put hoods over our heads. When we got here, they didn’t take the hoods off until they’d moved us into this room. I barely got a look at it before they shut the door, and everything went dark. That was maybe ten or fifteen minutes ago. Like I said, it’s hard to tell.”

  Pushing herself up into a sitting position, Avery took stock of her own injuries. She probably had a concussion since her head felt like it was split open down the center—having lost consciousness for a while wasn’t good either. She had some cuts and bruises, all which appeared to be non-life-threatening, but nothing seemed to be broken. She quickly became aware of the fact that the gun was go
ne from her lower back. A check of the front and back of her bra revealed that those weapons had been found and removed as well. Whoever their captors were, they were thorough.

  “Which shoulder, Lori?” Avery asked as she unclasped her bra from beneath her shirt and pulled it out from the sleeves in a move practically every woman alive knew how to do.

  “My left.”

  As gently as she could, Avery used her hands to figure out how Lori was positioned. “I can probably pop it back in, but it’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

  “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. I know it’ll hurt, but once it’s back in it will hurt far less than it does now. How are you going to pop it in, though?”

  “I’m going to put my bra under your armpit, then yank upward while using my foot to push down on your clavicle. It’s the best I can do under the circumstances. Think you can handle it?”

  “Can I cuss like a sailor while you’re doing it?”

  “Sure.” The corners of Avery’s mouth ticked upward despite the situation. Brad may not have been in the same state as his daughter for much of her life, but she’d definitely inherited his strength and grit. Maybe a few screams and curses would bring someone running, and Avery could get some answers—not that she was looking forward to hurting the other woman. “Hang tight for a minute. Let me make sure we have enough room.”

  “Okay. I haven’t been able to move far with my shoulder like this, but I didn’t hit anything except the wall behind me and another to my left. I guess it doesn’t really help you, though, since you can’t see which direction that is.”

  After getting to her knees, Avery blindly felt around. She didn’t know if anything or anyone else was in there with them. The concrete floor was rough and dirty. So were the four walls. The door was steel and locked from the outside, but it hadn’t been expertly hung since light emanated from the bottom and lower half of one side. By the time she’d circumnavigated the whole room, she guessed it was approximately twelve foot squared. Aside from Lori and Avery, the walls, one door, the floor, and, presumably a ceiling, the only other thing in there with them was warm, muggy air, which was to be expected on an island.

 

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