Mission: Her Shield: Team 52 #7

by Hackett, Anna

  She whirled, slipping out from between him and the wall. She darted around him and landed a jab to his ribs, then another to his lower back. Cursing, he shifted and followed her.

  He blocked her next hit, then tried to grab her shirt.

  She leaped up and landed a huge roundhouse kick to his head.

  Fuck. His ears ringing, he stumbled back and hit his desk.

  Before Jonah could move, she whipped out a small length of rope from her pocket, and wrapped it around his wrists.

  He went to roll, but she wrapped the rope around the desk leg and pulled tight.

  Fuck.

  He was now half lying on his desk and tied to the damn thing.

  Her lips quirked. “You almost had me.”

  “I won’t let you get away with this.” He kept his gaze locked on hers. “I will find out who you are, and I will track you down.” Jonah had the pleasure of seeing her hesitate, then she set her shoulders back.

  “I’m actually on your side, Grayson. Trouble is coming. I’m warning you so you can protect your team.”

  “I need more information than that.” He jerked on the rope.

  He watched her gaze fall to his throat, where the top two buttons of his shirt were open. She looked distracted for a second, then she shook her head.

  “I can’t tell you anything else. I shouldn’t even be here.” She pushed away from him. “Be prepared.”

  “Wait,” he growled.

  She sauntered to the door. He jerked on the rope again, and he heard the wood of his desk creak.

  But she was already gone, slipping out the door.

  Dammit.

  Jonah lifted his leg. He always had a knife strapped to his ankle. He bent his leg, and gripped the blade awkwardly between his tied hands. He maneuvered the knife and sawed through the rope. It felt like it took forever, but finally the rope dropped to the carpet.

  He shoved out of his office and prowled down the corridor. There was no sign of the redhead.

  Dammit to hell, where had she gone? She couldn’t have gone too far.

  He turned a corner and passed the rec room. Through the windows, he saw Nat perched on a stool, Axel beside her, his hand stroking the hem of her skirt. The man had a wide smile on his face.

  Jonah stepped into the doorway. “Did you two see a woman come past here? Red hair?”

  They both looked surprised.

  “No.” Axel raised a brow. “You got woman trouble, Director?”

  With a scowl, Jonah pivoted and headed out. He continued down the corridor and yanked out his cellphone.

  “Edwards, lock down the base. We have an intruder inside. A woman, red hair, black clothing. She’s about five foot seven, and was in my office.”

  “Sir,” the head of base security said. “That’s impossible.”

  “I know it should be, but she was there. Pull up the security footage.”

  “I already am.” The man cursed. “It’s all blurry. It’s still running, so it didn’t trip any alarms, but it’s impossible to make out any details.”

  Jonah cursed. “Get Brooks on it. See if he can clean it up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Jonah jammed his phone back into his pocket and stopped, hands on his hips.

  Who the hell was she? And what was the trouble that would put his team at risk?

  He drew in a deep breath. Whoever his mystery redhead was, he would find her.

  Jonah Grayson was a man who always kept his word.

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed Axel and Nat’s story!

  Team 52 will continue with Director Jonah Grayson’s story, Mission: Her Justice. Coming late 2020.

  For more action-packed romance, and for a peek at Treasure Hunter Security owner Declan Ward’s action-packed story, read on for a preview of Undiscovered.

  Don’t miss out! For updates about new releases, free books, and other fun stuff, sign up for my VIP mailing list and get your free box set containing three action-packed romances.

  Visit here to get started: www.annahackett.com

  Preview: Undiscovered

  She was hot, dusty, and she’d never felt better.

  Dr. Layne Rush walked across her dig, her boots sinking into the hot Egyptian sand. Ahead, she saw her team of archeologists and students kneeling over the new section of the dig, dusting sand away with brushes and small spades, methodically uncovering a recently discovered burial ground.

  To her left, the yawning hole in the ground where they’d started the dig was like a large mouth, ringed on one side by a wooden scaffold.

  In there, below the sands, was a fantastic tomb, and Layne was only beginning to unravel its secrets.

  She paused and drew in a breath of warm desert air. To the east lay the Nile, the lifeblood of Egypt. She swiveled and watched the red-orange orb of the sun sinking into the Western Desert sands. All around, the dunes glowed. It made her think of gold.

  Excitement was a hit to her bloodstream. Only days ago, they’d discovered some stunning golden artifacts down in the excavation. She’d found the first one—a small ushabti funerary figurine that would have been placed there to serve the tomb’s as-yet-unknown occupant in the afterlife. After that, her team had discovered jewelry, a golden scarab, and a small amulet of a dog-like animal.

  Stars started appearing in the sky, like tiny pinpricks of light through velvet. She breathed in again. The most exciting thing was the strange inscriptions carved into the dog amulet.

  They had mentioned Zerzura.

  Oh, Layne really wanted to believe Zerzura existed—a fabulous lost oasis in the desert, filled with treasure. She smiled as she watched the night darkness shroud the dunes. Her parents had read her bedtime stories of Zerzura as a child.

  Thoughts of her parents, and the hard punch of grief that followed, made Layne’s smile disappear. Unfortunately, life had taught her that fairytales didn’t exist.

  She shook off the melancholy. She’d made a life for herself, a career, and spent most of her time off on adventures on remote dig sites. She’d held treasures in her hands. She shared her love of history with anyone who’d listen. She hoped that if her mom and dad were still alive, they’d be proud of what she’d achieved.

  Layne made her way toward the large square tents set up for dealing with the artifacts. One was for storage and one for study.

  “Hey, Dr. Rush.”

  Layne spotted her assistant, Piper Ross, trudging up the dune toward her. The young woman was smart, opinionated, and not afraid to speak her mind. Her dark hair was cut short, the tips colored purple.

  “Hi, Piper.”

  The young woman grinned. “Give you a whip and you’d look like something out of a movie.” Piper swept a palm through the air. “Dr. Rush, dashing female adventurer.”

  Layne rolled her eyes. “Don’t start. I still haven’t lived down that last interview I did.” What Layne had thought was a serious article on archeology had morphed into a story that turned her into a damned movie character. They’d even Photoshopped a whip in her hand and a hat on her head. “How’s that new eastern quadrant coming along?”

  “Excellent.” Piper stopped, swiping her arm across her sweaty forehead. “I’ve got it all documented and photographed, and the tape laid out. We’re ready to start digging tomorrow morning.”

  “Well done.” Layne was hoping the new area would yield some excellent finds.

  “Well, I am insanely good at my job—that’s why you hired me, remember?” Piper grinned.

  Layne tapped her chin. “Was that it? I thought it was because you kept me in a constant supply of Diet Coke and chocolate.”

  Piper snorted. “Here they call it Coke Light, remember?”

  Layne screwed up her nose. “I remember. The damn stuff doesn’t taste the same.”

  “Yes, you really have to suffer out here on these remote digs.”

  “Can the sarcasm, Ross. Or I might forget why I keep you around.”

  Piper laughed. “A few of us are
heading into Dakhla for the evening. Want to come?”

  Dakhla Oasis was a two-hour drive north-east of the dig site. A group of communities, including the main town of Mut, were centered on the oasis. It was also where most of their local workers came from, and where they got their supplies.

  Layne shook her head. “No, but thanks for the offer. I want to spend a bit more time on the artifacts we found, and take another look at the tomb plans. The main burial chamber and sarcophagus have to be in there somewhere.”

  “Unless grave robbers got to it,” Piper suggested.

  Layne shook her head. “When that local boy discovered this place it was clearly undisturbed.” In between the discovery that had made headlines and her university being awarded the right to dig, the Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities had kept tight security on the place. She knew the Ministry would have preferred to run the dig themselves, but they just didn’t have the funding to run every dig in the country. “I’m going to find out who’s buried here, Piper.”

  The younger woman shook her head. “Well, just remember, all work and no play makes Dr. Rush very boring and in need of getting laid.”

  Layne rolled her eyes. “I’ll worry about my personal life, thanks for your concern.”

  Piper stuck her hand on her hip. “You haven’t dated since Dr. Stevens.”

  Ugh. Just hearing her colleague’s name made Layne’s stomach turn over. Dr. Evan Stevens had been a colossal mistake. He was tall and handsome, in a clean-cut way that suited his academic career as a professor of the Classics and History.

  He’d been nice, intelligent. They’d liked the same restaurants. The sex hadn’t been stellar, but it was fine. Layne had honestly thought he was someone she could come to love. More than anything, Layne wanted it all—a career, to travel, a husband who loved her, and most importantly, a family of her own. She wanted the love she remembered her parents sharing. She wanted the career they’d only dreamed of for her.

  Maybe that had blinded her to the fact that Evan was an asshole hiding in an expensive suit.

  Layne waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve told you before, I don’t want to hear that man’s name.”

  “I know you guys had a bad breakup…”

  Ha. Piper didn’t know half of it. Evan had stolen some of Layne’s research and passed it off as his own. And he’d had the gall to tell her she was bad in bed. Moron.

  “Look, go,” Layne said. “Head into the oasis, soak in the springs, relax. You’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow in the hot sun.”

  Piper groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  But Layne could see the twinkle of excitement in the young woman’s eye. Layne saw it in her own every day. Being on a dig was always like that. Uncovering a piece of history…she could never truly describe how it made her feel. To touch something that someone had made, used, and cherished thousands of years ago. To uncover its secrets and try to piece together where it fit into the story of the world. To see what they could learn from it that might help them understand more about humanity.

  She found it endlessly fascinating. Best job in the world.

  After waving Piper off, Layne headed to the storage tent. The canvas door was still rolled up and secured at the top. As she stepped inside, the temperature dropped a little. Now that the sun had set, the temperature would drop even more. Nights in the desert, even in spring, could be chilly. She’d need to get to the portable shower they had set up and rinse off before it got too cold.

  She’d lost count of the number of digs she’d been on. In the jungle, in the desert, under cities, by the ocean. She didn’t care where they were, she just loved the challenge and thrill of uncovering the past.

  Layne flicked on the battery-powered lantern hanging on the side of the tent. Makeshift shelves lined the space. Most were bare, waiting for the treasures they had yet to discover. But the first shelf was lined with shards of pottery, faience amulets, and stone carvings. But it was the locked box at the base of the shelf she was most interested in.

  She quickly dialed in the code on the tumbler-style lock and lifted the lid.

  God. She stroked the ushabti reverently, its gold surface glowing in the lantern-light. Her parents would have loved to have seen this. To know their daughter had been the one to find it.

  The necklace was still in pieces, but back in their lab in Cairo, someone would piece it back together. The chunky golden scarab would fit perfectly in the palm of her hand. She carefully lifted the small, dog-like amulet. It was slightly smaller than the scarab, and the canine had a slender body like a greyhound, and a long, stiff tail that was forked at the end. She was sure this was a set-animal, the symbol of the Egyptian god, Seth. She stroked the hieroglyphs on the animal’s body and the symbols that spelled Zerzura.

  Unfortunately, none of the hieroglyphs here made sense. She’d spent hours working on them. They were gibberish.

  There was a noise behind her. A scrape of a boot in sand.

  She turned, wondering who else had stayed behind.

  A fist collided with her face in a vicious blow.

  Pain exploded through Layne’s cheek and she tasted blood. The blow sent her sprawling into the sand, the set-animal carving falling from her fingers.

  Layne couldn’t seem to focus. She lay there, her cheek to the sand, trying to clear her head. Her face throbbed and she heard voices talking in Arabic.

  A black boot appeared in her line of sight.

  A hand reached down and picked up the set-animal.

  She swallowed, trying to get her brain working. Then she heard another voice. Deep, cool tones with a clipped British accent that made her blood run cold.

  “Move it. I want it done. Fast.”

  She saw more people come into view. They were all wearing black balaclavas.

  They started grabbing the artifacts and stuffing them into canvas bags.

  “No.” In her head her cry came out loud and outraged. In reality, it was a hoarse whisper.

  “Bag everything,” the cold voice behind her said.

  No. She wasn’t letting these thieves steal the artifacts. This was her dig and these were her antiquities to safeguard.

  She pushed up onto her hands and knees. “Stop.” She swung around and kicked at the knee of the man closest to her.

  He tipped sideways with a cry.

  “Uh-uh.” The man with the cold voice stepped into her view. All she saw were his shiny black boots. Before she could do anything else, a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.

  The pain made her grit her teeth. Tears stung her eyes. She twisted, trying to pull away from him.

  “A spitfire. I do like a feisty woman. Shame I don’t have time to play with you.”

  He was behind her and she couldn’t see his face. She tried to jerk away but a hard fist slammed into her head again.

  No, no, no. Her vision dimmed, the sound of the thieves’ voices receded.

  Everything went black.

  * * *

  Declan Ward strode into the warehouse, his boots echoing on the scarred concrete. Colorado sunlight streamed through the large windows which offered a fantastic view of downtown Denver.

  He was gritty-eyed from lack of sleep, and he was still adjusting to being back on Mountain Time.

  He’d gotten in from finishing a job in South East Asia sometime around midnight. He’d unlocked his apartment, stumbled in and stripped, and fallen facedown on his bed.

  Now, he was headed to work.

  Lucky for him, it paid to be one of the owners. He lived above the warehouse that housed the main offices of Treasure Hunter Security.

  Most of the open-plan space that had been a flour mill in a previous life was empty. But at the far end it was a different story.

  Flat screens covered the brick wall, all displaying different images and scrolling feeds. Some sleek desks were set up, all covered in high-end computers.

  There was a small kitchenette tucked into one corner, and next to that sat some sagging couc
hes that looked like they’d come from a charity shop or some college student’s house. Just beyond those, near the large windows, were a pool table and an air hockey table.

  “Dec? What are you doing here?”

  A small, dark-haired woman popped up from her seat at one of the computers. As always, she was dressed stylishly in dark jeans, a soft red sweater the color of raspberries, and impossibly high heels.

  “I work here,” he said. “Actually, I own the place. Have the mortgage to prove it.”

  His sister came right up to him and threw her arms around him. He did the same and absorbed the non-stop energy that Darcy always seemed to emit. She’d never been able to sit still, even as a little girl.

  “You just got back. You’re supposed to have a week off.” She patted his arms and frowned. She had the same gray eyes he did, but hers always seemed to look bluer than his.

  “Finished the job, ready for the next one.”

  Her frown deepened, her hands landing on her hips. “You work too hard.”

  “Darce, I’m tired, and not really up for this rant this morning.” She had this spiel down to a fine art.

  She huffed out a breath. “Okay. But I’m not done. Expect an earful later.”

  Great. He tweaked her nose. He’d done it ever since she was a cute little girl in pigtails and dirt-stained clothes tagging around after him and their brother Callum. Dec knew she hated it.

  “Hey, Dec. When did you get back?”

  Dec clasped hands with one of his team. Hale Carter was a big man, topping Dec’s six-foot-two by a couple of inches. He’d been a hell of a soldier, was a bit of a genius with anything mechanical, and a guy who managed to smile through it all. He had a wide smile and dark skin courtesy of his African American mother, and a handsome face that drew the ladies like flies.

  But Dec knew the man had secrets too, dark ones. Hell, they all did. They’d all been to some terrible places with the SEAL teams. All had seen and done some things that left scars—both physical and mental.