Stealth Ops Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  “Probably the son and father.” Luke eyed Sam; he was the only one standing, positioned behind Jessica.

  “Would he have that much pull to manipulate decisions with Gromov?” Sam asked, hating how easily her strings had been pulled to manipulate this entire thing.

  Jessica stood and positioned the laptop at the far side of the table. “Laszlo Kozak and Viktor Gromov grew up in the same town. Their sons went to private school together. They’ve known each other forever.”

  “So Gromov is in on this?” She found that hard to believe. He seemed like such a good man.

  Jessica shook her head. “Gromov may not know anything, and Laszlo is just using his friendship to manipulate the event. Maybe he mentioned to Gromov that he should have presidential support at the event, so that the Sven Group looks impressive. Who knows? But this is the best lead we have.”

  Sam covered her face, hating that someone turned an event meant to encourage peace into a possible bloodbath for justice.

  “We’re still not sure how our guys were smuggled out of the U.S., but at this point, it doesn’t matter because we know where they’re being brought.” Asher’s hand curled into a fist, bearing down on the table.

  “You think they’re still alive?” Sam’s hands fell to her lap.

  “They want everyone at the event so they can tell the world about what happened ten years ago,” Liam said, looking at her. “Maybe they’ll kill everyone after—maybe not. Who knows to what extent these people are willing to go, but if they killed Blane just to deflect our attention . . . I’m guessing they’re more than willing to kill others.”

  “The son is hardcore,” Jessica said. “He was nicknamed the Grim Reaper—well, the Russian name for it—when in the military.”

  “Shit, and that was before he learned the truth about his mom.” Knox braced his hands against the table and leaned back in his chair, connecting his eyes with Sam and shaking his head lightly.

  “We’re canceling the event, right?” Sam’s stomach fluttered as all eyes turned to her.

  “We have to rescue our men.” Owen looked over at her, a hard set to his jaw. “We can’t let more men die because of what happened ten years ago.”

  “And if we cancel,” Luke began, “the Kozaks will probably go ahead and announce the truth about the op to the world, and then we’re fucked in more ways than one.”

  “So tell the truth.” Sam stood, trying to maintain her confidence. “Maybe Ukraine will have to wait on NATO, but it’s the cover-up that got us all into this mess. Do we want to take the risk that we’ll always be living in fear of the truth getting exposed?” She tried to hide the tremble to her tone as she surveyed each person in the room before her gaze stopped on Owen at her side.

  “She’s right,” he whispered and slowly rose. “But we do it on our terms.”

  Luke’s hands went to his hips just as the line over the computer suddenly connected to showcase the president’s face.

  “Mr. President,” Owen said, a gravelly depth to his voice, “could I start?”

  “Are you going to explain why Samantha McCarthy is in the room?” the president asked, looking right at her, and her stomach squeezed.

  “I promise I’ll get to that,” he responded, “but first, could I ask, have you had any luck with the Chinese about Cheng?”

  The president leaned back in his chair in the Oval. “It’d involve a deal in tariffs I’m not exactly itching to make. What’s your point?”

  Owen glanced across the table at Luke for a moment before casting his eyes back to the screen. “I think I have an idea.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “This morning, Building B had a maintenance guy arrive to fix the central air-conditioning unit.” Jessica rubbed the nape of her neck and looked at the team gathered in the hotel suite.

  “That’s where the event is being held. What the hell do they need air-conditioning for?” Asher looked up from the computer screen sitting atop his lap. “It’s sixty degrees out, and tonight it’ll be cooler.”

  “Exactly,” Jessica said. “What if the Kozaks aren’t planning on blowing the place up, but they’re going to use the building’s ventilation system to release some sort of toxin or gas?”

  “And who knows what kind of bio-agents the Russians have on hand.” Luke went around behind Jessica’s desk to view the screen. “Can you hack the feeds to see if we can get a look at their maintenance guy?”

  “Doing that now.” Jessica’s fingers deftly moved over the keyboard like some cyber-pro, and, apparently, she was.

  Sam swiped a hand through her messy dark locks. She’d been combing her fingers through her hair for hours—ever since the plane had landed in Russia that morning.

  “It’s our deliveryman. Gregoff Voyesky.” Jessica turned her screen to show the team.

  “Looks like he made it home,” Knox grumbled.

  “Still no luck identifying which guards the Kozaks paid off or planted at the event tonight?” Sam stood from the red-tufted, velvet chaise lounge positioned near the couch where Asher, Liam, and Knox were sitting.

  Owen was by the window, eyes sweeping outside, as if on alert. He’d barely spoken since Jessica and Luke had assembled the team.

  “I’ve made some progress,” Knox announced. “I found one guy who wasn’t a last-minute add, but he had a major transfer of funds into his account this morning, and it’s not the kind of money a guard would make.”

  “Get me his name, and I’ll have a word with him,” Luke said to Knox. “I want eyes on a swivel tonight—assume everyone is an enemy until confirmed.”

  “What if you tip off the guard when you speak to him?” Sam asked.

  Before Luke could answer, Asher said, “This isn’t our first rodeo, honey.” He rose from the couch and set his laptop on the nearby table.

  “I do have a favor to ask, though.” Luke faced her. “Do you think you could get us waitstaff uniforms? Jessica’s working on creating IDs, but it’d be easier to move around the building if we look like we work there.”

  “Yeah, I think so. Are you planning on going in early?” She crossed her arms, her nerves catching in her throat.

  “Asher’s the only one of us who speaks Russian fluently and won’t raise alarms, so he’ll go in early and scope out the scene. He can try and get access to their ventilation system and see if it’s been tampered with.” Luke glanced around the room at his team. “But the rest of us will do a clothing swap once you get us through security.”

  “You know how to diffuse bombs?” Sam pivoted to face Asher now, her pulse climbing at the idea of a bomb detonating tonight. “Don’t the SEALs have EOD guys with them for stuff like this?”

  Asher eyed her, a smile in his eyes. “You know about explosive ordinance disposal?”

  “I do work for the Intelligence Committee. I know a thing or two about what you do.” I’ve just never been this close to the action.

  Asher grinned. “Well, I’m not an EOD guy, but I know my way around weapons of all kinds.” His gaze suddenly darted to Jessica. “I’m a bit of an expert at handling volatile”—he coughed into a fist, and Jessica’s eyes met his—“situations.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes and returned her focus to the screen.

  Sam had no idea what that was all about. “I’ll make a call and see what I can do.” She nodded. “But what if someone spots you guys in part of the building tonight where you shouldn’t be, even in server uniforms?”

  “We’ve got it covered,” Jessica replied. “I’ll loop the security feeds, so our guys won’t be caught on tape, but first, I’ll try and get eyes on the Kozaks and any other enemy combatants.”

  “I hate going in without ISR first.” Knox’s nostrils flared.

  “We can’t exactly send one of our drones over Russia,” Owen said, speaking for the first time in a while. “What kind of weapons will Secret Service provide us once we’re inside?”

  Liam stood, taking point on the question. “They couldn’t get us rif
les without raising alarms. We’ll be working with pistols.”

  “Better than nothing,” Knox grumbled.

  “You really think your taken men will be in that building? Even Teteruk?” Sam asked. “I mean, how would they get them in there unnoticed, especially if Gromov isn’t in on the Kozaks’ plans?” Sam’s fingers curved around the back of her neck.

  “The building blueprints date way back to the old Soviet days when not everything was clearly defined, and purposefully so. I’m betting some tunnels connect to the nuclear bunkers,” Jessica explained. “That will probably be their way in and out.”

  “And the Kozaks are really willing to give up everything for revenge?” she asked in disbelief.

  “People have done shit like this for a lot less,” Luke said with a touch of anger to his voice.

  She was sure, as Asher had said, this wasn’t their first time in this kind of situation. And so, she’d have to trust the team of experts to handle everything.

  “You want to back out?” Asher cocked his head to the side and edged closer to her.

  “No.” She looked at Owen instead of Asher, though. “If you’re in, I’m in.”

  Luke closed the stiff red floor-to-ceiling drapes, blocking out the afternoon sun, and then switched on the floor lamp by the couch in the hotel suite. “When you see your father later, you can’t mention the plan, okay?”

  Her dad had been tied up with Russian dignitaries all day, and she hadn’t yet seen him. She dreaded any conversation with him, especially now that she knew the truth.

  Sam’s eyes journeyed to the gold-framed image of the famous Russian poet Pushkin above the couch, a reminder of where she was—Rostov-on-Don.

  The city was at a crossroads—stuck between old and new. That’s how she felt. Wedged between the past and maybe a future she could see herself having.

  “Should we let my dad know about what’s going on tonight?” she asked. They were one hour away from leaving for the event—and that’s what she should’ve been focusing on.

  “We can’t let anyone know the plan, not even your father’s security detail.” Owen strode closer to her, fingering the collar of his pressed black dress shirt as if it suffocated him, the black tie remaining untied and draped around his neck.

  “We still haven’t ID’d everyone whom the Kozaks have on the inside.” Luke stood alongside Owen and tucked his hands into his black slacks pockets.

  Both men standing before her looked just as dangerous in a suit as they probably did in combat gear, only right now, they had more of the James Bond look going for them—quietly deadly.

  Her fingers fanned against her collarbone when Owen’s stare fell to the deep V of her black velvet dress. It wouldn’t have been her first choice to wear on a night like this, a night when she may need to run. Although her high heels allowed the fabric to drift off the floor, the material was tight and clung to her curves, limiting quick movements. Of course, when she purchased it three weeks ago, she hadn’t been worried about a life-or-death scenario.

  “I just don’t want my father to be in danger.” She swallowed the hard knot in her throat and lowered her hand to her side.

  “We’ll keep him safe.” Owen’s hazel irises connected with her face briefly before he glimpsed Luke out of the corner of his eye. “The rest of the team is getting set up. Did you double-check to make sure the locker has everything we need in it?”

  She nodded. “There are three server uniforms inside the staff room. Locker seventy. Combination: five, two, three, five.”

  “Thank you,” Luke said. “Once you get us into the event, Knox, Liam, and I will head to the staff quarters and swap our clothes for the uniforms.”

  Sam looked at the clock. “Asher is about to head inside with the staff, right?” Her nerves were bunching in her stomach now, and so, she crossed her arms over her chest, not sure what to do with her hands.

  “Yeah.” Luke strode closer. “We’ve got this, okay?” He was trying to reassure her, but hell, she wasn’t sure if that was possible right now.

  If anyone dies tonight . . .

  “I wish you had more backup.” Her fingertips bit into her biceps as she continued to hold her arms locked across her chest, a chill fluttering down her spine.

  Luke wrapped a hand over her shoulder. “Don’t worry.” He cocked his head, his eyes narrowing as if he could tell she was still nervous. “I have a baby due in November, and I have no intention of leaving him fatherless.”

  “A boy?” She exhaled when Luke’s hand left her shoulder.

  “He’s hoping.” Owen smiled, and Luke rolled his eyes.

  “Well, thank you for doing this.”

  “Thank me when it’s over.” He winked and brushed past her, heading for the door. “We’ll all rendezvous in the lobby at nineteen hundred hours. Hopefully, I’ll have good news from Asher by then.”

  “If the Kozaks weaponized the ventilation system, will Asher really be able to diffuse it?” she asked once Luke opened the door.

  “Yeah, most likely, but we’ll need to wait until the start of phase two,” Luke answered. “We can’t tip off the Kozaks. But we’ll have time. The Kozaks want to make a show of tonight.”

  “We have to beat them to the punch,” she said, nearly under her breath.

  Luke smiled. “And we will.”

  She turned to face Owen once Luke was gone. “I trust you guys, I do, but this is all just pretty intense.”

  “You’re handling it damn well, I’d say.” He came up to her, and she mindlessly reached out and pulled at the ends of his tie.

  “I wish you weren’t here, though.” He placed a palm on top of her hand holding his tie.

  “You need me.” Her teeth sank into her lip at the words because there were layers of meaning packed into them.

  He quietly regarded her, his eyes thinning.

  “You look handsome.”

  He smirked. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve worn a suit.”

  “You should do it more often.”

  “Hard to fight bad guys in this get-up.” His eyes crinkled at the edges with another hint of a smile.

  “Yeah, I can’t imagine trying to do anything in this dress.” She released his tie and glanced down at her outfit.

  “You look stunning, by the way.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her bare shoulder and up the column of her throat. “More than words can describe, actually.”

  “Thank you.” Her cheeks warmed, and she started to turn, not sure how she’d remain standing so close to him, but a hand on her arm stopped her. She twisted back to face him. “Are you sure you don’t need to be with your team, planning?”

  “I’m where I need to be.” He angled his head slightly, and his gaze drifted down the length of her dress before slowly returning to her face.

  “We have an hour to kill, and since we’re both already dressed—any ideas what we should do? We can’t go gallivanting around the hotel and getting into trouble, so . . .”

  “No gallivanting?” He cracked a smile. “Damn it. You chucked my plans out the window.”

  She couldn’t help but grin. “I have one idea.” It was a crazy, stupid idea. Probably. Maybe. Or maybe not? “I think I got dressed too early.” Her red lips rolled inward briefly as he held her eyes. “This thing isn’t that comfortable.” Her heart raced in her chest as she slowly turned, offering him her back. “Would you mind getting the zipper for me?”

  What am I doing?

  Her eyes shut when the dress parted and slid down her body. The thick material gathered around her ankles, her strappy heels now hidden.

  His finger slid beneath the thin strap of her thong before cupping her ass, and a pulse of desire burned through her at his touch. “No bra?”

  “The dress has a built-in bra. Don’t worry, the world doesn’t need to see my nipples poking through a gown.”

  “Mm. Good call.”

  She stepped out of her dress and faced him.

  Owen rubbed at
his cheek as he observed her, from her toes up to her eyes. “Do friends have sex, by any chance?”

  Friends? The conversation on Monday in the basement of the FBI building seemed to have taken place a month ago. “I don’t think they’re supposed to.” She pinched her brows together. “And we probably shouldn’t, but I could die tonight, and so—”

  “Don’t say that.” He maneuvered around the material on the floor and reached for her arm, gently guiding her closer to him. “I can’t have sex with you because you’re afraid you might die tonight.” A gritty edge to his voice had her blinking a few times.

  Her eyes cut to his as she decided to bare the truth. “And what if I told you that was just an excuse, so I didn’t seem so crazy for wanting you at a time like this?”

  The crease in his forehead disappeared, and his lips twitched at the edges. “I thought we already established at your apartment the other day we’re both pretty damn nuts. So”—he reached between their bodies, his hand unexpectedly shifting the tiny strip of fabric out of the way—“if you want me because we’re both a little crazy . . . I could work with that.”

  Her eyes rolled upward before closing as he caressed her sensitive flesh with his thumb, and she nearly stumbled into his body at his continued touch.

  “I must seem like some sex-starved woman.” She arched her hips, the desire for him to be inside of her dulling her thoughts.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he said with a laugh. “A woman like you deserves to be pleasured all day long.” His tone was deep and breathy as if he were hanging on the edge as much as she was.

  “I don’t know about that, but we have an hour.” And maybe she was afraid tonight would be her last time, but it wasn’t because she truly thought she’d die—no, she trusted Owen would keep her safe . . . she was just nervous Owen would be gone from her life when this was over; she was afraid that this could be their last time together.