by Elle James
“It’s business,” she said. “My business.”
“And illegal.”
“You do what you have to do to make a living,” Natalya said. “Now that the pirated copy is destroyed I have no use for you.”
“Then let me go,” Alex said.
Natalya shook her head. “Can’t. You know too much.”
“And so do we,” said a deep, familiar voice said from behind Natalya. “Put down the gun.”
Natalya grabbed a handful of Alex’s hair and yanked her around, using her as a shield.
Alex’s heart leaped when she looked past Natalya to see Striker with a gun in his hand.
Natalya laughed. “You have to go through her to get to me. And I’ll put a bullet in her before you can pull the trigger.”
Alex had more than she could stand of the Russian mafia interpreter bitch. She reached up, grabbed the woman’s hand with the gun and yanked it down.
Natalya pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide.
Alex turned and wrestled the woman for the gun. She’d be damned if she let Natalya get away with anything else. She was going down. Now. Today.
But damn, the woman had a strong grip on the gun.
Chapter 12
Striker rushed toward the two women struggling for domination over the gun.
Alex and Natalya spun, the gun pointing outward toward Striker and Adam, and fired another round.
They dropped to the ground.
“I’m. So. Over. This,” Alex said between clenched teeth. She grabbed Natalya’s arms and rolled backward, planted her feet in Natalya’s gut and flipped her into the air.
The other woman landed hard on her back, the gun dropping from her hand.
Alex leaped to her feet and rushed toward Natalya.
Before Alex reached her, Natalya grasped the gun and pointed it at Alex.
Striker dove for Alex, knocking her out of range of Natalya’s aim, and in the process, took the bullet meant for Alex.
Another shot rang out. Natalya’s eyes rounded, and her mouth formed an O. The gun fell from her fingers, and she looked down at her chest where blood spread across her royal purple dress. She looked across at Alex and Striker and cried, “Noooo.”
Natalya fell backward and lay still.
Adam crossed to the woman, holstering his weapon. He bent and felt the base of her throat. After a moment, he looked up. “She’s dead. Time to leave.”
Striker clutched a hand to his side as he pushed to his feet. He held out his other hand to help Alex to her feet.
She came up frowning. “You’re bleeding.”
He took her hand. “I’ll survive,” he said. “The main thing is to get the hell out of here before the entire German police force and army come down on us.”
“We’re in Germany?” Alex laughed. “I knew we were in a gas facility, but I wasn’t sure what country. They knocked me out. I don’t know for how long.”
“Bastards,” Striker swore. “Come on. There’s plane waiting for us. But you’ll have to share a seat with me in the getaway car.”
“I guess I didn’t think that detail through,” Adam said. “Doesn’t matter as long as we can get to the airport fast.”
Striker laughed. “I think you can handle that.” He took Alex’s hand and led her through the maze of corridors.
An alarm went off, and security personnel rushed through the building, heading for the control room. Several times Alex, Striker and Adam had to duck into a dark corner to avoid being seen. Soon, they arrived at the door Adam and Striker had destroyed the lock on.
Once outside, they ran for the Ferrari. Striker got into the passenger seat and pulled Alex onto his lap.
Adam slid behind the wheel, revved the engine and shot through the compound to the gate they’d left open. A security guard was just pulling the gate shut and was halfway there when the Ferrari flew through the narrow gap and out onto the street.
Adam touched a button on the steering wheel.
“Did you get her?” Charley’s voice sounded on the car’s speaker.
“We did,” Adam responded.
“Alex, the voice you hear is Charley, my boss,” Striker said. “Charley brought us here to get you back.”
“Thank you, Charley,” Alex said.
“What about the flash drive?” Charley asked.
Alex answered. “Natalya destroyed it. She said it was a pirated copy of the ransomware software she used to shut down the Nord Stream pipeline.”
“The European Union is in an uproar over the cessation of the flow of natural gas into Europe,” Charley said. “Fortunately, when you had the flash drive connected to Striker’s computer, we downloaded a copy. All we need is Ms. Sokolov present to decrypt it with biometrics.
“I have a pilot on standby to fly you all back to the States. A representative of the CIA cyber security unit will meet you at Dulles International Airport.”
They made the twenty-minute drive back to the airport in twelve, racing past the German Polizei.
As Charley had indicated, a plane sat waiting for them on the tarmac.
Adam left the Ferrari beside it. “I love this car,” he said as he leaped out of it and shut the door.
“Maybe if you come back to work for Charley, she’ll give you one of your own,” Striker said.
“Not a chance. Not until she reveals who she is,” Adam said. “Even then, I’m not convinced.”
Striker led Alex up into the plane and settled in the seat beside her. “You might as well get comfortable; it’s a long flight back to DC.”
She nodded and reached for his hand. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. How did you find me?”
He squeezed her fingers gently. “Charley. She had the foresight to plant a tracker on you. Adam’s not a fan, but I’m warming up to her.”
“Will you get to meet her in person in DC?” Alex asked.
Adam snorted in the seat in front of them. “Doubt it. She likes her anonymity.”
Alex frowned. “Do they have a first aid kit on board?”
A man dressed in a business suit climbed into the plane and closed the hatch. He brought with him a box with a red cross on it. “I believe you might need this. Do you require assistance with it?”
“I’ll assist him.” Alex took the box from the attendant.
Striker removed his shirt, wincing as he did.
Alex opened the first aid kit and pulled out gauze and alcohol.
“It’s just a flesh wound,” Striker said.
“He’s a SEAL. That’s what they all say,” Adam said. “He’s probably mortally wounded, but he won’t admit it.”
“Seriously,” Striker said. “It barely nicked me.”
“Hush and let me clean the wound,” Alex said. “Then I’ll be the judge of it.”
“I like a woman who takes charge,” Striker said with a grin.
“Must be why you like Charley,” Adam grumbled.
“And I like a woman who fights for what she believes in and for the people she cares about,” Striker tipped up Alex’s chin. “What are you going to do now that your quest is over?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. My parents worked for the CIA. At one time, I thought about applying there. But now, I’m not certain they’d have me.”
“What about the interpreting gig?” Striker asked. “There’s a demand for interpreters who speak Russian and German.”
“Good thing to know I have options.” She sighed. “I feel a little lost, like a woman without a country. I don’t even have my backpack that carries everything I own. It was my world. I could go anywhere with it.”
“We can contact the Hotel Le Negresco and have them send it to you,” Striker suggested.
“That would be nice.” Alex finished cleaning his injury. “You’re right. It’s just a flesh wound. You’ll be healed in no time.” She applied a bandage and smiled. “Better?”
“Much.” Striker pulled his damaged shirt back over his head and settled into his seat. “Lo
oks like we’ll have decisions to make when this is all over.”
Alex leaned back, nodded and closed her eyes. “Tomorrow will come soon enough for decisions.”
“Sleep,” Striker said.
She leaned her head onto his shoulder.
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “I hope one of your decisions is to spend some time with me,” he whispered.
“I’d like that very much. Are you sure you want to be with me?”
“More than anything,” he said.
“Could you two shut up?” Adam grumbled. “Trying to sleep here.”
Striker cupped her cheek and then pressed his lips to hers in a brief kiss. “See you when we wake up on the other side of the pond.”
* * *
One month later
Alex smiled as she sat beside the pool in her own backyard in San Diego, California. She’d always wanted to visit the city and never thought she would actually get to live there. But here she was, in her own home, with a view of the bay in front of her.
After she’d met with the CIA and helped them get into the software her parents had stolen from Natalya, the cyber security unit was able to reverse the damage the ransomware had created for Nord Stream.
The cyber security team worked day and night to make it happen and had the natural gas flowing again within forty-eight hours of it being shut down. They’d also learned from the software how to safeguard computer systems against future attacks. All because Alex’s parents had sacrificed their lives to help others.
After Baranovsky’s and Natalya’s deaths, Anatoly Petrov was able to convince the other members of the Energy Summit that no more siphoning would occur. He would put security measures in place to keep it from happening again. With that promise, he got the members to sign off on the construction of the pipeline.
“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Striker asked as he set his beer on the table between their two lounge chairs.
“No, thank you,” she said. “I’m still sipping this one. What time did Adam and Angela say they were getting here?”
“In about an hour.” Striker settled in the chair beside her and reached for her hand. “Why?”
She smiled. “I was just thinking…”
“About?”
“About how good it would feel to make love in the water.” She hadn’t been thinking that, but now that she had, heat coiled low in her belly. “Know anyone who would care to join me?” she asked as she rose from her lounge chair and unhooked the back of her bikini top, letting the straps slide down her arms.
“I could think of a few.” Striker was off his chair in a second, pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it onto his chair.
Alex shimmied out of her bikini bottoms and stepped to the edge of the pool. Her backyard had a tall privacy fence on both sides and was perched on the side of a hill overlooking the bay in the distance.
Ever since Charley and the CIA had set her up with a new identity, passport and social security number, she’d finally started living her life. The best part of it was the time she spent with Striker, getting to know him better and making love with him every chance she could.
He had performed other shorter jobs for Charley and was happy to be employed, even if he wasn’t thrilled about his boss being more or less a ghost. The work was rewarding and for the greater good.
They’d seen each other throughout the month, getting to know each other better. Alex wasn’t sure they were ready to commit to marriage, but she would consider it if Striker asked. She knew in her heart they would have the kind of love her mother and father had enjoyed. And that made her happier than she’d been in a long time.
She was even happier when they made love.
Striker shucked his shorts and joined her at the edge of the pool.
“I like that you’re adventurous,” he said, taking her into his arms.
“I like that you like when I am.” She leaned up on her toes and brushed her lips against his.
“We have fifty-nine minutes until our guests arrive,” Striker reminded her.
She grinned. “Then we’d better get going.”
Striker bent and scooped her up into his arms and walked into the water that had been warmed by the sun. Once there, they made love in the near weightlessness, laughing at how they had to cling to each other throughout to keep from floating away.
When they had each had their fill, they surfaced and lay in the sun on the same lounge chair to dry, holding hands and touching each other until they made love again.
Yeah, Alex was well on her way to trusting this man with her heart. And she was already there in love with him.
“Hey,” he leaned up on one elbow and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, “what are you thinking about?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down so that she could kiss him. “I’m thinking that I love you.”
His eyes widened. “Love? As in the big L word?”
She nodded. “The big L.”
He gazed into her eyes. “Does that mean you trust me now?”
Her eyes narrowed playfully. “I don’t know about that, but you’re definitely growing on me.”
“Good, because that makes it easier,” he said.
Her brow wrinkled. “Easier?”
He nodded. “Easier for me to do this.” He rolled off the lounge chair, reached for his shorts and removed a box from inside. “Alex, I’m pretty sure I first fell in love with you when you flipped Anatoly Petrov over your head at the Energy Summit in Nice. I’d never met a woman who could so effectively put a man in his place.”
Her heart filled to overflowing. “You love me?”
He nodded and opened the box to display a diamond ring. “I love you enough to risk my heart and bare my soul to ask you to do me the honor of becoming my wife. I promise to love you and cherish you for the rest of my life. Please, say yes.”
She laughed, flung her arms around his neck and answered, “Yes!”
He gathered her naked body in his arms and sealed their promise to each other with a kiss.
When they finally came up for air, he whispered into her ear. “There’s only one more thing we need to do.”
“And what’s that?” she asked, so happy she thought her heart might burst.
Striker winked. “We need to get dressed. I think I heard a car pull up in the driveway. I can’t wait to tell Adam and Angela that you and I are getting married.”
“I can’t wait to get married,” Alex said. “I’m ready to spend the rest of my life loving you.”
“And I’m ready to love you for the rest of my life.”
She smiled. “We just had to go halfway around the world to find each other.”
Striker held her close. “I’d do it all again.”
Shadow in the Desert
Becca Jameson
Shadow in the Desert
By Becca Jameson
Chapter 1
Ajax was running a few minutes late, so he took the stairs two at a time instead of the elevator. He was only going to the second floor of this D.C. office building, and he wasn’t at all sure why he even gave a fuck if he was late.
He had no idea who he was meeting with or why. In fact, he wasn’t sure what compelled him to bother showing up today, except that he had nothing else to do, so why not?
As he pushed through the door that led from the stairwell into the hallway, he paused to catch his breath and straighten his shirt. He hated that he was slightly out of breath because he’d let himself lounge a bit too much for the past few months. He was uncomfortable in his clothes for the same reason. His khaki pants were a bit tight and his blue button-down shirt was annoying his neck. He wore it untucked because…well, mostly because again, he didn’t give a fuck.
He’d put a half-assed effort into looking presentable, but that had not included a shave or a haircut, nor had it included a tie.
He shouldn’t have felt uncomfortable dressed like this. He’d spent se
venteen years in the Navy for heaven’s sake. He was used to being starched and straight. But it had been three months since he’d last donned his uniform, so he was out of practice.
Who was he kidding? For most of those three months, he’d lounged around in his sister’s den wearing sweatpants and T-shirts. He’d drank far more than his share of beer, and he shuddered to think how many bottles of Jack.
“What the fuck am I even doing here?” he muttered to himself as he drew in a breath and headed for office number 212.
It didn’t take long to find. It was three doors down on the right. He narrowed his gaze as he found the number on the door. Nothing else. No business name, nothing. The other offices in the hallway had placards on the door indicating what company they were.
For a moment, he stood rooted to his spot, hands on his hips, staring at the door and then glancing around. If there had been another human in the hallway, he would have asked them if they knew anything about this office. There was no window, so he couldn’t even peer inside.
Unease crept up his spine, causing him to lift an arm and rub the back of his neck. “Shit,” he muttered. “This is by far the stupidest thing I have ever done.” He didn’t have nearly enough details about why he was here to have believed it was legit. Hell, he’d been hungover when he answered the phone. The only reason why he doubted it was a trap was that it was the middle of D.C. This was a busy office building. What could possibly go wrong?
He chuckled as he thought of the possibilities. Considering how fucked-up his life currently was, anything could go wrong.
You’re here, dumb as the decision might have been. Just open the damn door.
He patted his right hip where he’d worn a weapon nearly every second of every day for many years until recently. It wasn’t there now. He didn’t have a weapon on him this morning at all.
With a deep breath, he pulled the door open, holding on to it as he stepped halfway into the room. In his mind, he figured if he didn’t like what he saw on the other side, he could step back out, let the door close, and walk away.
