Stealth Ops Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  “We’re a team,” Asher said pointedly. “All of us.” He looked back at Luke. “But you should know”—his lips briefly turned down—“I’ll never let anything happen to her. And I mean never.”

  He should’ve been there by now. Jessica’s gaze swept left and right. No sign of Samir.

  Snipers were waiting, but there were no agents in sight, no one to tip Samir off. The last thing they wanted was for him to show up to a place crawling with Feds and take off to a neighborhood or to a store or mall, where he could hurt other people.

  “Bravo Three, anything?” she asked Asher over her comm from inside the vehicle in the parking lot.

  She prayed to God Fatima hadn’t set them all up. It was a possibility, but at this point, they didn’t have a choice but to trust her.

  “Nothing yet,” Asher answered. “Copy?”

  “Copy that.” She glanced at Fatima alongside her.

  “Maybe he discovered you have me,” she said. “But no, he’d come for me if he realized his plans fell through.”

  “And what was his plan for you? To live under a fake ID in the US?”

  “I have a cousin who lives in Cleveland. I was going to go there.” She clasped her hands in her lap and stared out the passenger window.

  “Is that why you’ve been working on perfecting your English?” At Fatima’s silence, her attention diverted to thoughts of Berlin. “Was it your idea to threaten the refugees in order to get Ara to give me up?” Anger bubbled back to the surface at the reminder this woman played a role in Ara’s death. “You knew how much those girls meant to her based on her emails to you. She’d have done anything to protect them.”

  “I would never suggest such a thing.” Her voice wavered as she spoke. Her fingers fanned across her collarbone. “But Samir read the emails. So, I suppose it is my fault.”

  Jessica looked out the window. “How could you be okay with your son killing himself? How can any mother want that for her child?”

  Asher’s voice came over the line, ending her conversation with Fatima. “I have visual confirmation of the target. He’s heading toward the front entrance. Eight hundred meters north of your location.”

  “Roger that.” Her heart stuttered in her chest. “Samir’s here. It’s time.” She retrieved her pistol and motioned for Fatima to exit.

  “You promise not to kill him?” Her eyes filled with liquid.

  “That’s the plan,” she said before exiting the vehicle, and Fatima joined her on the sidewalk.

  “I’m moving into position,” she alerted the team.

  “This is Bravo One. Target is closing in on the front steps. SWAT is getting anxious,” Luke warned a few seconds later.

  At the sight of Samir in an s-vest, Fatima screamed out his name in panic.

  Samir flung around, firearm in one hand, detonator in the other. His lips parted as he laid eyes on his mother, and Fatima shifted away from Jessica to run to him.

  He started shouting at her in Arabic. Orders to leave. To get away.

  Fatima held position ten feet away from him, palms in the air in surrender.

  “Samir. Please.” Jessica kept her arms locked, her weapon drawn in front of her. “You don’t want to do this.” She tried to keep her voice steady as she moved closer to him. “If you walk into that lobby, the only person you’ll kill is yourself.”

  His eyes darted from his mother to her. Indecision clouded his eyes. Fear.

  “You don’t have to hurt anyone else.” Her breath floated with the cold air as she edged closer, within range of a possible blast. “I forgive you,” she said as steadily as possible, willing her words to be true.

  If she could truly forgive him and make peace with what had happened to her, to Ara, she could move forward, be stronger.

  His arm shook slightly, and his brown eyes shifted to his mom. He threw his hand out in front of him, motioning for both of them to back away.

  More pleas in Arabic sailed from Fatima’s lips, but Samir returned his focus to Jessica.

  “I know you’d never have gone through with the chemical attack,” Jessica said slowly, hoping she was right. He’s a kid. Just a kid.

  “I killed my cousin. I tried to kill you.” His jaw clenched. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

  “You’re smart, Samir. Smart enough to realize the only people who will suffer if you push that button are you and your mom.” She took a step closer. “What is it that you really want?”

  He was quiet as if contemplating her question, and she took the moment to assess his vest.

  From the looks of it, homemade explosives were tucked into the pockets, blue and red wires tangled in the front like a ribbon tying everything together. But it was the two tubes of liquid flanking both his sides that had her worried.

  Oil and vinegar? Or did he have a chemical weapon ready to spread when the bomb exploded?

  If it was TATP, the mother of Satan, the chemicals could explode because of friction without the heat of the blast. She had to end this and now.

  “I want the war to stop,” he finally said, his voice breaking, emotion leaking out.

  He was a confused kid who’d grown up surrounded by violence and death. She had to try and remember that.

  “This isn’t how you end a war.” She clicked back on the safety of her gun and slowly stowed her weapon in the holster, praying she was making the right decision.

  He cocked his head and studied her.

  “Your brother, Arif, was a good man.” She stood alongside Fatima now and saw tears dripping down the woman’s face like blood seeping from a wound. “He helped take down bad guys.”

  “And it got him killed!” Samir yelled, liquid gathering in his eyes.

  She was getting through to him.

  “But he died trying to help his people. What will you die for?” She swallowed the lump in her throat and moved so she was only a foot away from his outstretched arm, from his gun.

  His hand shook, and she wasn’t sure if he’d accidentally fire the weapon, but she couldn’t back down now. She couldn’t turn and run.

  No, Asher was right about her. She was a fighter.

  “Please, Samir. I don’t want them to kill you,” she said, realizing she meant every word now. Too many people had already died.

  She tipped her chin to the windows in the building behind him, letting him know snipers were in position.

  “After what I did to you? To my own flesh and blood? Why do you care?” He lifted the gun and rubbed it against his forehead. His other hand still clutched the detonator, and she knew she was seconds away from this situation ending in one of two ways.

  “People make mistakes,” she said as calmly as possible. “But you can make the right choice now.” She glimpsed his mom over her shoulder before directing her focus back to him. “It’s not too late.”

  He looked heavenward, and the world became blanketed in silence.

  She wasn’t sure how many seconds ticked by, but his bottom lip shook, and then his entire body began to tremble as he sank to his knees in a broken sob.

  She eyed the vials of liquid. He was moving too much.

  He lifted both hands, flipping them palms up, offering the gun and detonator as he continued to cry.

  “Stay back,” she said to Fatima. “The chemicals may be unstable.”

  Samir looked up at her, and he lightly shook his head. “They’re not real.”

  But could she believe him? Was it a trap? A fake surrender?

  Her heart climbed in her throat as she weighed the options.

  “You need to get out of there,” Luke’s voice came over her comm, interrupting her thoughts. “Don’t take a chance. The bomb squad is gearing up. Let them handle this.”

  “I need to remove the vest. Protective gear won’t keep those men alive if this vest accidentally blows up,” she said as she disarmed Samir of his weapon and the detonator. “I need to make sure these chemicals aren’t TATP.”

  Samir’s eyes thinned at her
words. At her doubt.

  In her line of work, she had to be certain. She wanted to believe him, but how could she trust a kid who went through such lengths for revenge? Emotions had guided his decisions, and she’d once thought hers hadn’t been—only to realize today she’d been wrong.

  She crouched before him to study the wires.

  “This isn’t your area of expertise,” Luke reminded her. “If you’re not going to wait, I’m sending Bravo—”

  His words faded into the air when Bravo Three exited the building from behind Samir. Worry and fear ripped through Asher’s gaze.

  “Let me help.” Asher produced a knife from his pocket, the knife she’d given him at Christmas, talk about déjà vu. “Step back. I’ve got this.”

  She followed his request because he was the explosives expert, even though it pained her for him to put himself in danger.

  Upright, she edged back and stood alongside Fatima a few feet away; the woman wouldn’t leave without her son.

  “I’m going to get this off of you. Got it? Don’t move. Not a goddamn hair.” Asher’s back was to her, which hid his movements as he worked at the spirals of red and blue. “You telling the truth about the chemicals?”

  Samir was on his feet a minute later, the vest now removed and in Asher’s hands. “I promise. It’s only acetone,” he said as his gaze veered to his mom. “I’m sorry.” He sidestepped Asher and hurried to his mother’s open arms.

  Asher slowly knelt to the ground and set the vest down before facing her. “Just in case he’s lying—how about we get the hell out of here?”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  “You sure you don’t want to hitch a ride back with the team tonight?” Asher asked.

  Jessica wrapped a hand around the nape of her neck, observing the pilot do final checks of the plane inside the hangar.

  “I think I’m going to take a few days off. I have a couple of friends I’d like to visit in D.C.” She found Asher’s eyes.

  “Taking time off, huh? You turning a new leaf?” He tucked his thumbs into the front pockets of his worn-out jeans.

  “Yeah, well, I need to clear my head, and I’m not ready to go back to New York.”

  “I was thinking about not going back, too.” He was quiet for a moment. “You get a chance to talk to Rutherford before he rushed us away from Langley?”

  “Yeah. He didn’t exactly say thank you, but . . .” She rubbed her neck, an achiness radiating down her spine. “Samir and his mom will be handed over to the Germans for a trial, and the men from Detroit will finally end up behind bars where they belonged a long time ago.”

  “What happens to our team?”

  “Two weeks of mandatory vacation.”

  “I don’t think the boys will complain this time, especially since Luke wanted two months.”

  She smiled.

  “I could sure as hell use the time off.”

  “Me too.” She bit into her lip. “Today could’ve gone much differently. Thank you for the assist back there. I’m glad you’re okay.”

  “You, too, Peaches.”

  A tightness stretched inside her chest at his choice of words. “I missed this.” She took a sobering breath. “Not the possibly dying part, but . . . you know, you being you. And me being—”

  “A hero.”

  Her eyes drifted to the floor. “I wouldn’t call it that.”

  “Well, I would.” He closed the space between them and lifted his hand to her shoulder. “You did something I couldn’t have done. Something I probably wouldn’t have done.”

  She swallowed and met his eyes. “What’s that?”

  “Forgive Samir.”

  Her brows drew inward, her throat squeezing.

  “You pulled off a miracle today and without a single drop of blood shed.” He quietly observed her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. A slight touch of darkness traveled across his face. Guilt, maybe.

  She lowered her arms to her sides, and he dropped his hand from her shoulder at her movement.

  She had to get the words out. To tell him how she really felt. After the day they had, he needed to know.

  “I miss us.”

  “Us?” His lids lowered halfway. “You miss the way things used to be, you mean?” His voice dropped a couple dozen octaves.

  “I miss being comfortable working together.” She gave a half-hearted shrug. “I miss being Peaches.” Her fingertips lightly bit into the outside of her thigh, her nerves trekking into her throat, an attempt to kill her words like usual, but she didn’t want to let them this time. “What I’m trying to say is—”

  “Jessica, you have a minute?”

  Luke . . . He was standing a few feet away with his hands in his pockets.

  When she looked back at Asher, his eyes locked with hers. There was so much going on in his head, wasn’t there? And part of her worried it was something she wouldn’t want to hear.

  Concern coated her insides in thick and heavy strokes, so much so her body nearly sagged from the discomfort.

  Asher turned and observed Luke before walking past him and toward where the guys were crowded just outside the hangar, open to the runway outside.

  “You okay?” Luke stood before her now.

  She smoothed a hand over her jaw, trying to dismiss her nerves. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “You were brave back there.” He dragged a palm down his face, and his eyes widened a little. “I shouldn’t have second-guessed you. I’m sorry.” He blew out a breath. “It’s going to be hard letting go, though.”

  She leaned forward and placed her hand over his forearm. “I don’t want you to stop protecting me, but I don’t want you doubting my decisions, whether they’re in the field or my personal life.”

  “Well, if you make a shit call in the field, you’d better believe I’ll call you on it,” he said in all honesty. “Listen.” He cleared his throat. “Mom and Dad were never good at affection. They never said the right things to us. And I know I haven’t been the best example, but I want to be better. I want to be here for you if you’ll let me.”

  Liquid threatened to fill her eyes at his words, at feelings she’d kept locked tight inside for years. “Mom and Dad weren’t the best role models. That’s true, but they aren’t to blame for me becoming so screwed up.”

  “You’re not screwed up.” His broad shoulders fell forward a touch. “You’re tough, but—”

  She held up her palm. “It’s more than that. I thought I had to separate my emotions so I could make the right calls. But when Marcus died, I really buried myself behind some pretty heavy-duty walls.” She stole a breath. “I thought it was to protect the team, but the more I think about it, it was to protect myself from getting hurt.”

  He blinked a few times as if fighting his feelings. God, they were so similar. But he had managed to change for the better in the last year, and so maybe she could, too.

  “If Berlin, or today, taught me anything, it’s that I don’t want to be that person anymore.” I want to be loved. To love.

  Her mind skipped to Asher, to the man she’s wanted for years.

  “You can be whoever you want to be, Jessica.” He braced her shoulders. “I believe in you.”

  A tear glided down her cheek, and her stomach muscles tightened. “And, Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  She focused on his eyes. “I love you, too.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Asher crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, eying Jessica as she kicked off her boots and sat on the hotel bed. “You sure you don’t want to take Samantha and Owen up on their offer to stay with them while you’re in D.C.?”

  “No, and surely it’s for the same reasons you’re at a hotel.” A grin touched her lips. “Eva warned me you can hear everything through their walls.” She wet her lips. “I have no interest in listening to Owen have sex.” She cringed. “He’s like a brother, so . . .”

  “Yeah, I don’t blame ya.” He lowered his hands t
o his sides and pushed away from the wall. “What time are you meeting your friends tomorrow?”

  “Ten a.m. brunch. So, we have plenty of time to finish our conversation from earlier.”

  He angled his head, and she reached for his forearm. The same distress appeared in his eyes. Maybe he was worried she was going to write him off again? He really did love her, didn’t he? She only hoped she hadn’t messed everything up.

  “I fought for Samir today, to save the life of a man who had me strapped with an s-vest. A man who murdered my friend.” Her lungs burned with the memory. “And yet, for a long time, I’ve been scared to fight for the one thing I’ve wanted more than anything.”

  “And what’s that?” His tone was rough. Hard. And it had her legs growing weak.

  She rolled her lips inward, her heart beating wildly. “You.” She lifted her shoulders. “I want to fight for you.” She forced her eyes on his. “For us,” she corrected.

  His thumb swept over her bottom lip before he cupped her cheek, but he remained quiet.

  “I want you, Asher Hayes. I want you to have every part of me. I always have. Always will.” Liquid pooled in her eyes, the admission freeing. “If you still want me, that is.”

  “Jessica,” he whispered and lowered his face near hers.

  His lips hovered, tauntingly close, and despite the crazy turn of events of the day, all she wanted was for this man to wrap his arms around her.

  “Be with me,” she whisper-said. “And not just for tonight.”

  “There’s, uh, something I have to tell you first.” Emotion squeezed his words. “It could change things.”

  She shook her head and focused on his dark eyes. “Nothing could change how I feel.” She was desperate for his touch. “Please.”

  His lips parted as his hand went to the small of her back. There was a fight, or conflict of some sort, in his eyes.

  “Whatever it is, I promise it doesn’t matter. We’ve waited so long and . . .” She let go of her words when he hooked her leg up to his hip with his free hand, holding her tight. His length hardened against her, and a sharp ache of need settled between her thighs.