by KaLyn Cooper
Neither said a word but both understood as they waited until the large black jet disappeared into the midnight sky.
On the way off the base, Alex commanded the hands-free phone to call her USSOCOM. After a few moments he was put through to General Lyon.
“I wondered how long it would take for you to call me,” the commanding officer over all special operations stated without any greeting. “They’ve been in the air less than one minute.”
“I watched them take off then decided I wanted to hear it from you. Please tell me they have backup this time.” Out of the corner of his eye, Alex watched Griffin shifted in his seat. He knew exactly how the man felt.
“Alex, I promise you, that will never happen under my command.” The gruff of leather and creak of a chair came through the speakers. “Is this a secure line?”
“Yes, sir. I’m calling on the phone issued by your command,” Alex reassured him.
“I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to call me on your personal cell.” He let out a sigh, as though settling in to tell a story. “I have a DevGru SEAL team and a Delta team backing up the Ladies of Black Swan. One of those two will be given credit for taking out their next target. This guy is a slippery fucker.”
A phone rang loudly in the background. “Hang on a minute, would you please, Alex. I’m not done talking to you, but I’ve got to take this.”
Alex turned and merged into light traffic on the interstate headed north toward Guardian Security’s D.C. Center. He felt comfortable that the general had the women protected enough for him to do his real job—running the ten offices of Guardian Security.
Two minutes later, the general’s voice came back over the speakers. “Alex, you still with me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Katlin and her team are damn good at their job. They’ll find their target and take him out.” The general then added, “I knew Mike Callahan, fairly well. We were stationed at Southern Command in Miami together. Katlin, and my daughter Cristin, were on the gymnastics team. Trust me, Alex, Katlin’s safety is a high priority of my own.”
Cristin Lyon. He barely remembered her as a quiet, small-framed brunette. “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, how is Cristin?”
“Very pregnant with my second grandchild.” The pride in the older man’s voice was unmistakable. “She married an accountant shortly after college and they settled down in Sarasota. She usually teaches high school math, but she’s taking off next year to be with the baby.”
“Well, sir, congratulations.” Alex then added, “Thank you for looking after my girl.”
The chair creaked again. “Alex, I look after them all. Sure you don’t want to take that quick job down in South Africa?”
“No, sir.” Then he added to clarify, “I’m happy to back up the Ladies of Black Swan anytime you want, though.”
“Understood. USSOCOM out.” The line went dead.
Alex let out a long sigh and heard Griffin do the same. “Welcome to my life. They're in good hands.” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure himself or Griffin.
“I plan to sleep at Guardian tonight and catch an early flight out in the morning back to Miami,” Griffin informed him.
Alex’s morning was going to be busy and so was Bret’s.
Chapter 8
At the familiar double rap on his closed-door, Jack called for Mrs. Ward to enter.
“Is a five o’clock already?”
“Twenty past,” she announced and laid out letters for his signature. “I’ll be off as soon as you are finished with these.” With a smile she added, “I’m headed over to my son’s tonight to play with my grandbaby. They need a night out and I need a few hours of me time with my newest granddaughter. And, just to remind you even though it’s in today’s notes, I won’t be in until late tomorrow. It’s my turn for the required annual test on the shooting range.”
He glanced up from speed reading the next letter. So many would underestimate the slightly overweight woman pushing fifty-five. She carried a 10mm pistol in what he thought of as her grandma purse. He’d offered her a .45 caliber company issued gun, but she preferred the one she’d carried for twenty years while in the FBI. She was sharp as a tack, could keep her mouth shut, and had one of the highest levels of clearance in the entire government. He was thankful every day she worked for him.
He signed the bottom of the last letter and slid them all back toward her. “Have a great night. I know you will, hugging and playing with that baby.”
Jack could picture Mrs. Ward holding a precious little blonde girl in her arms, cooing at the child he and Katlin had created. She would, of course, bring the baby in to show it off. Maybe his assistant would even volunteer to babysit while he and Katlin—
“Good night, Mr. Ashworth,” Mrs. Ward called, shattering his daydream. She disappeared through the doorway, leaving it slightly ajar as he preferred when she wasn’t around.
Lost in his work, Katlin’s perfume smacked him before he heard the light tap on his open door. He couldn’t hold back the smile as he glanced up to welcome her. She rarely came to him, and never after hours.
The edges of his mouth dropped when he saw Agent Nikkole Katrina Chernakov slide into his office and shut the door by leaning back against it, her hands behind her back forcing her breasts to thrust out. Those perfect size 36C, that he had personally paid for, pointed directly at him with hardened nipples.
She looked even more like Katlin than before. Her hair was nearly as long as Katlin’s and bleached almost to the right color, not quite, but in the low light of his bedroom it hadn’t mattered. Their affair had been a mission for her and a live fantasy for him. He had literally molded her into a substitute for Katlin Callahan, even calling her Kat in the privacy of his Georgetown home. Since it was a shortened version of her middle name, the woman never seem to mind.
But Agent Chernakov had betrayed him under the guise of Katrina. She was another reason he spent two hours a week with a psychiatrist.
As his gaze raked over her exquisite body, the low scooped tank top revealed more breast than it covered. The pencil skirt hugged her small waist and rounded hips and stopped a conservative five inches above the knee. She had great legs, the three inch heels lengthening her well-developed calves. She looked good enough to eat.
He’d been there. Done that. And they had burned up the sheets for nearly a year.
The shrink’s recent words popped into his mind. Did you ever consider what you were doing emotionally to Nikkole Chernakov’ as you transformed her into a replacement for Katlin Callahan?
No. He’d never given a thought to the woman’s self-esteem. She seemed willing to do anything, eager even, to please him, and she personally benefited from his attention. He lavished her with gifts from jewelry to furs, none of which she ever refused, nor returned after their affair abruptly ended.
Anger churned inside Jack as he remembered the last time he’d seen her. She and the deputy secretary of Homeland Security had been waiting for him inside his home. Within minutes, it had been revealed that he had been Agent Chernakov’s mission.
“What the fuck do you want?” Jack was in no mood to be raked over the coals of his indiscretion again.
She took a deep breath, and he watched those gorgeous breasts rise and fall. He didn’t miss the snick of the door lock before she pushed off and walked slowly toward him.
“Jack, I wanted to come talk to you sooner, but I was being watched. They were testing me as much as they were testing you.” She glanced back toward the door. “Everyone is gone.”
“Why are you here, Agent Chernakov?” Jack couldn’t trust this woman, but he was curious to see what she was up to.
“I’ve missed you.” She came around his desk to stand in front of him.
He didn’t bother to get up. “So.”
She walked her fingers up his shirt. “I’m not on that assignment anymore.”
Running her nails around his ear, he closed his eyes to the sensation.
When she leaned in and nipped his lobe just the way he liked it, his cock sprang to attention. He had taught her everything he enjoyed most about sex.
Whispering in his ear, she admitted, “I really liked the way you touched me.” She ran her hands down his chest to his slacks and over his erection. Stroking him she said, “This part doesn’t have to stop.” She squeezed his cock. “And neither do we. We know how to be discreet.”
Jack grabbed her long hair and pulled, forcing her face upward to him. “What is it you really want, you little witch?” He covered her hand, still on his crotch, and squeezed. “More of this?”
Like a snake, she rubbed her whole body against him. “Oh, yes.”
He guided his hand up her skirt and found what he expected. She wasn’t wearing underwear and was already wet. He stroked her folds. “You do really want me. Spread your legs wider.” He shoved one finger in her hot channel. “This doesn’t lie, you know.”
“Yes, I want you,” she said as her breathing increased with every stroke.
He studied her face. It was nowhere near as regal as Katlin’s, but still very pretty as many Russian women are. He couldn’t kiss her, even as she stretched her face to meet his. “You want me to fuck you?”
“Yes, please,” she pleaded.
He loved to hear her beg. She knew what he wanted to hear. He raised one eyebrow.
“Jack, please, fuck me.” The desperation in her voice was all it took.
He stood and started to unbuckle himself.
“It’s been so long, let me.” She brushed away his hands, freeing him to reach into the top left desk drawer and grab a condom. By the time he opened the packet, she was stroking him with her small soft hands, just the way he taught her.
“Turn around,” he ordered as he sheathed himself. With his hand on her back, he had to control the urge to shove her down. He slowly ran his hands up the backs of her thighs lifting her skirt, then caressed her smooth ass. Mentally plugging in the fantasy he’d had in the Operations Center when Katlin had bent over, he ran his finger the length of her crevice to be sure she was still wet.
“Say it again,” he demanded as he pinched her clitoris.
“Jack, please, fuck me.”
He thrust into her in one hard push. “Touch yourself. I want you to come when I do, and I’ll know if you fake it.”
She reached between her legs and rubbed, her nails occasionally biting into the base of his cock.
Glancing down at the clothed body draped over his desk, blond hair fanned out hiding her face, it was easy for Jack to imagine it was Katlin. “Say it. You know what I want to hear.”
“Only you. It’s always been you,” she panted.
When he smacked her ass, her internal muscles immediately clamped around his dick. Lightly rubbing her butt cheek, he soothed away the red fingerprints.
“Again, please,” she supplicated.
Damn, he liked this. He wasn’t going to deny a woman’s request, so he lightly smacked her other cheek. He was immediately rewarded with an internal cock squeeze. “That’s my good little kitty Kat.” He closed his eyes and pretended he was sliding into Katlin. When he was close, he ordered, “Now come for me, you little witch.”
Knowing he had to help her along, he reached around and cupped her breast before he rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. On his next thrust, he pinched her nipple, hard. Her cry was one of pain and ecstasy. She closed around his cock and milked it.
Jack slammed his eyes shut and pretended he was shooting his unsheathed seed into Katlin’s body, making her his forever by creating that beautiful blonde baby he’d dreamed. He fell forward catching himself on his glossy mahogany desk with his hands, not wanting to touch the substitute underneath him.
Recovering quickly, he pulled out of her and strode to his private bathroom, needing to remove the condom and clean every trace of her off his body.
Nikkole swiveled side to side, dwarfed by his large executive chair, when he returned to his office. The picture looked so wrong.
“Get out of my chair,” he ordered as he strode to the back of his desk. She waited until the very last second before she stood up, invading his personal space.
Her perfume, Katlin’s perfume, went straight through him stiffening his cock once again.
Deciding he needed more, he asked, “Do you still have the key to my house?”
“Of course.” The smile she gave him was both excited and needy. “When do you want me to come?” She emphasized the last word.
Her attempt to be coy fell flat. Checking his expensive watch, he calculated the time he’d be required to spend at the cocktail party at his parents’ house. “Pick up a late supper for us and meet me there at eight thirty.”
Looping her arms up around his neck, she ran her fingernails over the back of his scalp, pulling him down. She forced the kiss he didn’t want to give her. It felt like a stage kiss, all for show, with no meaning.
“I’ll see you in a few hours,” she promised as she sashayed to the door, unlocking it and leaving it cracked.
What the fuck am I doing resuming an affair with a viper?
Chapter 9
Alex laid a piece of paper with the letters and numbers Katlin had given him onto Bret’s desk as soon as the young man sat down.
“So, what exactly is this?” Bret said as he fired up his computer and turned on all six screens.
“A tracker.” That was all the information Alex had.
“Okay,” Bret dragged out the word. “Am I expected to find the person carrying this tracker? I could use a few more details here.” He ran his hands through his sandy blond hair.
He looked like the ultimate surfer, and in a way he was. Instead of ocean waves, he surfed the Internet, and dove deep into places that weren’t meant for his eyes. That’s why he had done two years at Club Fed. It seemed the IRS didn’t have a sense of humor and when he’d been visited by Homeland Security, he repaid the favor to them, hacking into some of their deepest darkest places. When he’d been released from the federal prison, he turned down several offers to work for the government choosing Guardian Security instead. He’d already become an invaluable employee, but Alex wondered if he’d given him a puzzle too hard to understand this time.
“Let’s start at the beginning,” Bret suggested. “Where did you get this? At least that should give me a point of reference.”
“Homeland Security.” That was Alex’s best guess.
Bret’s grin was pure evil. He seemed to stare at the numbers and letters for a long time, then pulled the second keyboard out of a drawer. “Give me an hour.”
“I’ll give you all the time you want.” Alex didn’t care if it took hours, days or even weeks. He’d have paid thousands to know where Katlin was at all times.
As he walked toward his office, one that looked exactly alike in all ten Guardian Centers, he passed Top Cooper, the manager in D.C. The retired Marine held up one finger toward him. It had been several months since Alex did a full inspection of this facility. Now was as good a time as any to step back into his role as managing partner.
After checking every inch from the two sub basements all the way up to the seventh floor apartments, Alex was pleased with the condition of the building. Next, he and Top would go over financial spreadsheets, customer lists and personal protection clients. As the two men stepped into the main area, he made his way to Bret’s desk.
“Alex, this is some fucking cool technology.” Bret pointed to a screen. “This isn’t like any tracker I’ve ever seen. It’s constantly downloading all kinds of data.”
One set of numbers changed every few seconds and ranged in the sixties while another held at 979. A string of numbers changed constantly, then suddenly they stopped. Something looked very familiar about the sequence, but Alex couldn’t put his finger on it.
Top approached and stood beside Alex. “What you looking for in Alaska?”
Alex’s gaze shot to Top. “How do you know it’s Alaska?”
His D.C manager pointed to the numbers that changed constantly. “I like to salmon fish. My good friend lives right here.” He pointed to a spot on the screen. “There is a little-known military base not far from his house. When I go up there and fish, we navigate by GPS coordinates.”
“So these are all GPS coordinates?” Bret clarified.
“Yeah. What did you think they were?” The former Marine asked as if Bret were an idiot.
“Why didn’t I see that?” The computer genius mumbled to himself as his fingers flew over the keys. Within seconds the world appeared on one of the screens then kept enlarging and enlarging until the legend in the bottom right-hand corner showed they were all looking at two square miles with a dot in the middle.
Bret punched his fists up in the air, barely missing Tops jaw. “Victory is mine.” He spun his chair around to face Alex. “Now, who the hell is this?”
Quietly, Alex answered, “None of your fucking business. How can I track her?”
“So, it’s a woman,” Bret said conspiratorially as he spun back around and punched at keys. “Did you plant some kind of a bug on her? What’s the half-life because I may have to boost the parameters? By the way, there’s some pretty impressive coding involved in this. The device seeks not just one satellite, but several. The backup has backups that backup the backup. This is really deep.”
Now willing to answer any of his questions, Alex asked the only question he really wanted to know, “Is there a program I can use to follow her and can it be put on my phone?”
“I’m sure there is, no, and no.” Bret never stop typing.
“Uh, I didn’t catch that,” Top said with a confused look on his weathered face. “Speak English.”
Without looking up, Bret explained, “I’m sure there is a computer program for following this tracker. I’m also sure that it’s not publicly available so no, Alex can’t track her. Last, since the program isn’t available, he certainly can’t track her on his phone.”
