Hitting Xtremes (Xtreme Ops Book 1)

by Em Petrova

  He cast off the thoughts and focused on what he should—his mission. Xtreme Ops couldn’t fail. As far as he was concerned, and if he knew anything about government programs, they had one chance at this. Failing on their first mission wasn’t even an option.

  How far could Yahontov get on foot, alone? Who knew what supplies the man carried with him. Also, he was former Russian military. His training in conditions such as this surpassed Penn’s and his men’s.

  That only meant he had to up their game. Be the elite.

  After Cora presented the facts about them requiring a guide to make it through the worst terrain by the fastest route, he realized they needed her for success.

  He stifled a groan. When it came to facts, she was a tough woman, but relying on her could be the wrong move.

  She sighed heavily in sleep, and flipped onto her side again, this time facing away from him. He drew the blankets over her. Staring at the back of her head only brought more of those odd pinging feelings to his chest…but dropping it to the rounded hump of her hip raised other sensations he didn’t want to deal with out here.

  He definitely should not curl up behind her.

  That was called spooning, and it was not something a captain of a special ops team did.

  Or a gentleman.

  Dammit, she might be cold. He couldn’t have her waking with chattering teeth, and she needed all the rest she could get out here.

  Fuck.

  In the end, he edged up behind her. As soon as his body heat touched her spine, she issued a soft sigh and squirmed into his embrace.

  Jesus, he wasn’t going to last this way. Sharing a tent would be the end of him, but the idea of her cuddling with Lipton or Broshears made his jaw clench.

  Penn slipped an arm over her middle, anchoring her to him.

  He woke with a jolt at the cold wind blasting through the open tent flap. His arms were empty and the bedding next to him cold.

  He launched to his knees and hurled himself through the opening. Pitch blackness met his eyes, and he could barely make out the humped shapes of the other tents where his team slept.

  Broshears appeared in front of him. “Everything okay, Captain?”

  “Where’s Cora?”

  “Cora?”

  “Yes, the woman! Where is she?”

  “I didn’t know she left.”

  “Goddammit, you’re supposed to be keeping watch. You should know when someone farts in this hemisphere!” He reached inside the tent, grabbed his night vision and slapped it on his face.

  “Stay here. Keep watch this time,” he ground out as he hurried forward, tracking the small footprints in the snow leading from their tent to the trees.

  How had the woman gotten around Broshears? He might have given him flack just now, but the man was a warrior and nobody slipped past him.

  Quickly, he pushed through the deep snow puddled around tree trunks. Half a mile of walking later, he started to panic. If Yahontov got her, dragged her off and—

  With his sidearm gripped tightly, Penn kicked off at a jog, weaving through the trees on her trail. Through the night-vision device, he spotted her walking at a fast pace through the deep snow.

  Taking a route around the trees to cut her off, he wondered what the hell she was doing.

  He stepped out in front of her, and she jerked to a stop. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I have to get home. I’m already too late, but there must be arrangements made for my father.” Her voice faltered, but she sidestepped him and continued on some invisible trail through miles of thick snow with a deadly wanted man hiding somewhere out here.

  Stunned, Penn watched her go. “Cora!” He rushed after her.

  She started to run, and how her shorter legs weren’t hindered by the heavy snow he had no clue, but she made it farther than he thought before he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her back against him.

  “Let me go! I have to get to my father!”

  “Cora, stop.” He whipped her around to face him. “You’re not thinking straight.”

  “It’s only a couple of miles. I can do it with my eyes closed.” She struggled to free herself from his hold.

  He grabbed her by the shoulders. “You’re not going back alone, and not in the dark. If you truly want to return, then let me call you a chopper. As soon as the weather’s clear enough, they’ll lift you out.”

  She went still as if all the fight left her. “Oh God. You’re right. I’m not thinking straight—the worst possible thing a person can do in the bush.” She bowed her face into her hands.

  He continued to hold onto her, waiting for her to come to some decision about what she needed to do.

  Finally, she looked up. “I’m sorry. I woke and it all hit me again, and I just…panicked.”

  He might be dealing with a tough woman, but she was human, and he’d seen plenty of men lose their shit after someone took a hit.

  Squeezing her shoulder, he twitched his head to indicate they should go. “Come on. You need sleep if you’re going to keep guiding us.” He turned her around, and they walked to the camp. She dropped the pack she carried outside the flap and then crawled inside.

  Through the darkness, Penn met Lipton’s gaze. Giving a nod that everything was fine and for him to continue as lookout, he followed her into the tent.

  It wasn’t yet dawn, but the brightness of the snow blinded him. Blinking rapidly, he scoped the area for any sign of Cora.

  His gut told him she’d left camp again. Dammit to hell.

  He stopped dead as his gaze fell over her crouched near the fire with her tinderbox. She looked up and locked stares with him. In a heartbeat, he saw half a dozen emotions rush over her face, all of which he recognized as determination, pain, grief, embarrassment and then a pink flush rose to her cheeks.

  Dipping her head, she resumed her work. In seconds she fed the fire into a flame large enough to set a small aluminum camp pot on. He noted how she’d dropped a few stones strategically into the fire ring to elevate the pot from the flames. His real interest was in that blush she wore, though.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. Fuck, he was losing it and he needed to take a piss. After grabbing his rifle, he headed into the trees. Keeping on high alert, he approached Gasper, who leaned against a tree, keeping watch over the line of trees.

  “Thanks for taking my shift,” he grated out.

  Gasper gave him a solemn nod.

  “Anything to report?” Penn asked.

  “No, sir. Only saw a snow fox about an hour ago.”

  “No threat then.” Penn went behind a tree and relieved himself. When he returned to camp, he found Cora using a stick to stir something in the pot. The scent of coffee reached him.

  “Where did you get coffee?” He kept his voice low so as not to wake the others yet.

  She met his gaze across the small fire and then lowered it again. “It’s instant. Add water. You should know all about that.”

  “I wondered if you found some from our rations.”

  “I have rations as well.”

  “You’re welcome to ours, you know.”

  “Thanks.” With economical movements, she poured the coffee from the pot into a metal cup and offered it to him.

  “I won’t take your coffee.”

  “I made it for you.”

  A string tugged in his chest.

  “I mean…as a thank you. I wanted to talk to you before the others got up.” Her quiet tone was like soft fingers working over him, stirring things he definitely should not be feeling out here.

  He held out a hand and accepted the cup. When he brought it to his lips, he stared at her over the rim. “I think you should go back, Cora.”

  She blinked up at him. “That’s fair to say after the mistake I made last night. I…wasn’t thinking straight, and it won’t happen again. I had a minute of weakness where all I could think about was my father. But I realized that the best thing I can do for him is to keep going, to find his kille
r.”

  He lowered the cup without taking a sip. “First, your reaction is understandable and nobody is blaming you for that. Second, you’re not finding his killer.”

  “I know where he’d hide along the way. We only need to catch up to him.”

  “Probably true, but you’re still going back.”

  She met his gaze, and he saw the same spark of will he’d seen in her at the site of the crash. “I’m going. You need me. That terrain isn’t what it shows on your map. You go that way and you’ll end up dead or walking for hours to find a place to even camp.”

  He dragged in a deep breath, somehow smelling the remnants of her personal scent that filled his nose all night while holding her rather than the coffee beneath his nose.

  After a long pause, he nodded. “Fine. But no more taking off alone. Clear?”

  “Crystal.” She stood from her crouch and walked to her pack on the ground. He swore her hips were swaying in those damn puffy snow pants, and he stifled a low growl at the memory of her rounded ass nestled against his groin most of the night while she thrashed in her sleep.

  He sipped the coffee, perfectly hot and somehow far more delicious than any instant coffee from their rations.

  Gasper approached from the side. “All clear, Captain. You good?”

  “Yes,” he grated out. “It’s gonna be a long-ass mission.”

  Three more hours on foot to the drug drop.

  Though Cora was tired and ready to stop for a rest, she refused to suggest it. What was up with these guys anyway? Each of them was as tough and unflagging as the last. If she didn’t know by being cuddled against one all night, she’d think they were robots rather than flesh and blood.

  Her gaze slid to Penn, walking in front of her. His tall, hard body acted as a good distraction for most of her boring trek, but she was growing irritated with him too. Why did he have to be so caring last night? She couldn’t get it out of her head how he’d broken the news of her father’s death so tenderly and then gently wiped her tears, held her while she sobbed against his chiseled chest and then warmed her through when normally she’d be freezing in a tent under these conditions.

  In snow camo, the line of men blended into the landscape. He’d given her a layer of the camo to put over her own puffer jacket as well, grumbling about her wearing red like a goddamn flag in front of a bull.

  She defended herself, saying that typically a person wanted to be found if lost in the bush, and he didn’t speak after that.

  But those dark eyes of his followed her every move, which was why she guessed he chose to walk in front of her. Either that or to keep her from running again.

  She still burned with embarrassment about her gut instinct to head back for her father’s sake. When she wasn’t cringing about that, she thought about being in Penn’s warm, strong arms, and her face burned for another reason.

  The man they called Hep paced along beside her as her personal bodyguard. She wouldn’t put it past Penn to have given that order, but luckily Hep didn’t get under her skin the same way Penn did.

  “Have you done much traveling?” Hep asked.

  “Been all over Alaska,” she answered. “Canada too.”

  “What about the rest of the United States?”

  “One time my mother met with a friend in Washington and brought me with her. I played with her little girl a lot while our moms visited.”

  Hep stared at her. If his tanned skin didn’t give him away as a Southerner, his Texas drawl did. “That’s all? You’ve been to Washington?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “You haven’t been out of Alaska in all this time?” Penn had dropped back to walk on her right. Being under his deep stare had her skin prickling with warmth all over again.

  “So what if I haven’t been to the lower forty-eight much. I’m totally happy with Alaska. It has everything I need.”

  “Like snow, ice, sleet, below-freezing temperatures. Don’t forget the snow.” Hep’s list had everyone chuckling. “Oh, and a huge drug trade from Russia.”

  “We have plenty of homegrown drug dealers too,” she quipped. “Don’t forget to give our people credit for their enterprise.”

  They all gaped at her for a second and then burst out laughing. She shot Penn a wry smile and got a look in return, his coffee-brown eyes centered solely on her as if nobody else existed out here.

  Now why did her imagination make leaps like that? He’d only done his duty in comforting her. Military personnel were trained to provide stability to the victims of their rescue missions, and she was simply that.

  After the amusement died down, they started along the rocky ridge.

  “You’re certain we should go this direction?” Penn asked.

  She stared at him. “You doubting me?”

  They all stopped to watch the show as she and Penn faced each other.

  He extracted his phone and showed her a map. “This shows the fastest route is a mile west.”

  She shook her head. “You go that direction you’ll end up trapped on a peak so high you can’t even rappel down it. Which I don’t suggest doing in snow and ice.”

  Penn stared at her for five long heartbeats…then seven. Eleven full heartbeats later, he passed his thumb over the screen and pocketed the sat phone. Without a word, he turned and continued walking along the route she’d led them.

  Lipton jogged to reach his side. Snippets of their conversation floated to her. “We can call in and…”

  “We brought her for this. I trust that she isn’t just leading us on a pleasure hike over this ridge.” Penn’s voice reached her loud and clear.

  She stopped walking, stunned. The highest praise anyone could give her, and she received it from a man she never believed would take her seriously.

  The men closed in on either side of her like bodyguards, and they walked along for a short distance before Gasper swung his attention her way. “Why don’t we just use snowmobiles? Or a dog sled. Anything’s better than walking all this distance.”

  “A snowmobile will only take you so far. Remember that the man you’re after planned to reach the drug drop by plane. And it would take at least six dogs to carry one of you big men.”

  Penn’s head turned into profile as he tuned in to her conversation.

  She went on, “In an area this remote, this is the only way.” She studied the ground ahead of the group. “Be cautious around this edge.”

  “I heard that when you’re climbing Everest, the elevation and shit effects blood flow, and you automatically get a boner while climbing.” Beckett’s statement had them all cracking up.

  “I should have worn stretchy pants. Hard to climb a mountain with a boner,” Hep drawled.

  “Jesus Christ.” Penn twisted his face to conceal the smile he wore.

  Cora held in a snort of laughter and hoped the air cooled her flushed cheeks before anybody noticed she was fair enough to blush easily. “You won’t need to worry about that here. We won’t be reaching those altitudes.”

  After several minutes, they calmed down and grew quiet again.

  “Does this mountain have a name?” Lipton shifted his shoulders as if to ease the weight he carried.

  “Nanouk Ridge,” she answered.

  “Odd name.”

  “It’s Innuit. It means polar bear.”

  “Will we be seeing some up here?”

  “Probably not. It’s based on a legend.”

  “What legend?” Penn’s deep voice drew her attention to him. She noted how he walked closer to her than the other men did. His arm swung at his side within inches of hers.

  “Well, it is told that a beautiful Innuit girl traveled here with her tribe. She was separated from them during a storm one winter night.”

  All the men focused on her words.

  “She wandered the ridge alone for days, hungry, cold and frightened. When she could stand it no more and spoke to the heavens to ask her ancestors to send for her and end her suffering, she began to change.” The win
d whipped up, and she flattened her gloved hand to her head to keep her hat from slipping.

  “Change how?” Gasper’s brow wore a skeptical crease.

  Cora met his expectant stare. Suddenly, she felt like the mother of the group, telling bedtime stories.

  “She shifted into the body of a polar bear. From that day forward, she had enough food, her fur kept her warm from the elements, and she had no fears at all. Her human body died, but her spirit still wanders this ridge, protecting all travelers who set foot on it.” Cora gazed at the sharp outcropping of rock jutting upward, slicked in heavy snow and ice.

  “Maybe the spirit will kill off Yahontov and save us the trouble. Maybe the spirit makes requests.” Lipton tipped his head up to look at the sky as if about to give it a shot.

  Cora looked up at Penn in time to catch his crooked smile—his glorious, heart-stopping crooked smile.

  Her lungs tightened, and she felt there wasn’t enough air on this ridge for her if Penn kept on smiling.

  “The spirit protects—it doesn’t kill,” she said when she regained her breath.

  “But we do both.” The rough statement coming from Penn drew chills up and down her spine.

  The man gave her too many uneasy feelings she couldn’t explain. To get a break from them, she walked closer to the edge and threw a look down at the valley below. They’d been walking with the river on their left for a while now, and it cut sharply through two ridges, a frozen snake stretching through the wilderness. But sometimes bush planes could land…

  Her stare fixed on the river and shore. As she peered down, her heart beat faster.

  “Do you see Nanouk down there?” Lipton asked as he walked by her.

  Penn had continued on, but now he rounded to her side.

  “What is it?” He stared down too.

  She lifted a hand. “Those markings on the shore.”

  He looked closer. “Tracks of some kind? Could it be a snowmobile?”

  She met his gaze. “I’d say your bad guy picked up some friends here. Do you have—” She began to say binoculars, but he already whipped them out and pasted them to his eyes.

  “Fuck, you’re right. Footprints.”