Black List: HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries: A Black’s Bandits Novel
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Black List
HOT Heroes for Hire: Mercenaries: A Black’s Bandits Novel
Lynn Raye Harris
Contents
Preface
About This Book
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Also by Lynn Raye Harris
Who’s HOT?
About the Author
Preface
Black List: Jace & Maddy
© 2019 by Lynn Raye Harris
* * *
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About This Book
Jace Kaiser is a man without a country, without connection. His only loyalty is to the group who saved him, and the man who leads them.
Until her...
* * *
The assignment should have been easy. Capture a deadly assassin and take her to HQ. But flawed intel leads to disaster, and Jace abducts a beautiful art appraiser instead. Intrigued by her courage, he's drawn to her in ways he can't explain. Dr. Madeline Cole stood up to him, fought for her identity, and never backed down. She's the kind of woman he could fall for if it wasn't so dangerous--for her.
* * *
Then Maddy is targeted for elimination because she's the sole person who can identify the mysterious female assassin--and the only thing standing between her and certain death is the sexy mercenary who swears he'll die before he lets anything happen to her. As the passion between them ignites, it seems clear that keeping Maddy safe has become the most important assignment of Jace's life.
* * *
Even then, protecting her might not be enough--because Jace has secrets that could destroy them both. And someone is determined to unmask them all...
Prologue
Seven years ago…
* * *
It was time to go. If he stayed any longer, he wouldn’t survive the night. He had to disappear before they made him disappear. He shouldered his backpack, yanked up his hood, and strode into the Moscow night. He left his apartment behind, all his belongings. He would never see them again.
Nikolai Orlov knew how to disappear, but he also knew it wouldn’t be easy. They were watching him. Waiting.
They thought he didn’t know it, but he did. After all he’d done for them. Two years in the army before he’d been recruited to the Spetsnatz. He’d spent five years as an elite soldier, doing whatever needed to be done. Following orders, working his way to better pay and more challenging assignments. He’d given them everything he had. His best.
Because Mother Russia demanded it. Because his parents demanded it. Because they’d already given everything they had, including him. He’d had no choice in the matter. No say at all. So he’d adapted, and he’d excelled.
It wasn’t enough. No matter how hard he’d worked, how loyal he’d been. He knew that now. They were coming for him. Betrayal was a bitter pill to swallow.
The night was wet with rain, chilly. It was September, not quite time for the snow to start, though it would soon. Nikolai didn’t look over his shoulder, but his finely honed sixth sense told him someone was there. Following him.
Well, he would lose them. Or he would battle them. Either way, he was getting out of here. North to St. Petersburg, then to the waiting ship where he would stow away and be carried to Finland. If his contact had come through.
He thought of the American with the intense eyes who’d approached him. He knew who Ian Black was. Everyone in the special services knew the American who seemed to be a law unto himself. When you wanted the difficult things done, you called Ian Black. For a price, he would get it done—whatever it was. The man was a precision instrument, not a sledgehammer. When you wanted a surgical strike, you called the American.
When Ian had approached him four days ago, he’d thought it was a set up. The nail in his coffin, as it were. Until Ian began to talk about Nikolai’s parents. He knew things about them, and he claimed to owe them a debt. He planned to repay it by saving Nikolai.
Nikolai still wasn’t sure it was real, but he’d follow the plan until he couldn’t anymore.
Behind him, there was noise. In front of him, a shape stepped out of an alley and made its way toward him. Weaving as if drunk. Nikolai didn’t believe it for an instant. He braced himself, prepared to act. The shape got closer, the man beginning to sing drunkenly. Behind him, the tempo of footsteps picked up. They were going to crush him between them like a pincer closing. He darted his gaze to the left and right—and then he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The drunk hesitated but kept moving. The man behind him kept moving too. Honestly, the fellow had the footsteps of one whose feet were made of stone.
Nikolai waited. He couldn’t cross the street because there was no sidewalk on the opposite side here. And the cars zipped past too quickly to make it safe. He would have to fight. He dropped the backpack, shoved his hood down and turned sideways, adopting a fighter’s stance.
The two men stopped. The one behind him pulled a weapon and pointed it at him. “You will come with us, Nikolai Alexandrovich Orlov.”
“Why?”
“Because you are under arrest for treason.”
Nikolai’s insides froze. “Treason? What is it I have done?”
“You can discuss that with the FSB.”
The FSB was the equivalent of the old KGB, and just as frightening. “I’d be happy to. But first you have to catch me.”
The man with the gun snorted. “I think we have already caught you. You plan to outrun a bullet, eh?”
Nikolai threw a glance at the man who’d pretended to be drunk. He seemed familiar somehow…
And then it hit him. Nikolai nearly laughed. Instead, he took a step back. “Maybe I do,” he said, his confidence flaring to life again. If he was right…
The drunk was stone cold sober now. He pulled a weapon and motioned Nikolai in his direction. Nikolai picked up his bag and went to the man’s side. The other man was laughing. But he didn’t laugh for long. Nikolai took the weapon from the drunk, then spun and put two bullets in the other man’s chest. He dropped onto the pavement.
“Better get to St. Petersburg. That ship won’t wait.”
Nikolai turned the butt of the pistol toward his savior. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Ian Black said, shoving the pistol beneath his jacket. “Get the hell out of here. We’ll talk in a couple of weeks.”
“You were with him,” Nikolai said, nudging his chin toward the body on the sidewalk. “What happens when his bosses figure out you betrayed him?”
Ian snorted as he started to walk backward. “Figure out I betrayed him? Not the way it works. Now get moving before that ship leaves port.
”
Nikolai watched Ian retreat. He shot a glance at the body on the sidewalk, wondering if Ian was going to do anything about it or leave it to be discovered.
Not your problem.
No, it wasn’t. Nikolai tugged his hood into place against the cold rain. Then he disappeared into the night.
Chapter One
“Schatz, was ist los? Aufwachen, aufwachen…”
Jace Kaiser jerked awake as the German girl he’d taken back to his hotel room last night shook him from his dreams. The memory of men in dark suits, rough hands yanking him from his bed, faded as he stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. Cold sweat prickled across his skin. The girl nestled in beside him again, lips soft on his neck as she whispered words of comfort. He’d welcomed those lips earlier. Now…
Now he just wanted to escape.
It was a dream that had disturbed him. The same fucking dream as always. But he wasn’t ten years old anymore, and the FBI hadn’t burst through the door to arrest his parents and change the course of his life. He’d been a regular kid until that moment—and then everything changed. His identity, his allegiances, his entire world.
His stomach rolled at the memories of armed men in black and he sat up, gently pushing the girl away when she clung to him.
“Was ist los?” she asked again. What’s the matter?
“Nothing,” he said, his voice rusty. Goddammit, he needed to get over this shit. It was over two decades in the past, and he wasn’t the same person anymore.
Jace swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his clothing. He dressed quickly. The girl—what was her name again? Ingrid? Inga?—flipped on the light. He glanced at her. She was lovely. Long limbs, pale gold hair, blue eyes, pink cheeks. She let the sheet fall, exposing her pretty breasts, but he wasn’t tempted. Not a second time.
“I’ve got to go,” he told her in German, grabbing the carryon he’d never unpacked. He dropped the keycard on the pillow beside her. “Stay until morning. Order room service. It’s paid for.”
Her expression fell. “Will I see you again, Jack?”
It wasn’t his real name. Hell, he didn’t even have a name. The name he’d had until the age of ten was a lie. So was every name since—which meant Jace Kaiser was as good as any and at least he’d picked that one himself.
“Probably not,” he told her. “I’m not often in Berlin.” And then, because her lip quivered, he bent to kiss her one last time. “You’re lovely. I had a great time.”
Jace strode from the room, taking his phone out and dialing a taxi as he did so. He’d already met with his contact earlier in the day. He’d sent the information back to HQ as soon as he had it. The mission was a success and there was no reason to stay. He’d only done so because Ian Black had insisted that he needed some R & R.
Well, he was done with that shit. It didn’t help and he wasn’t the idle kind. Jace stopped at the desk and told them he was leaving but the girl in his room would be there until morning. They didn’t argue with him. He hadn’t expected they would. They were paid not to. Jace went outside and stood in the cold pre-dawn air, waiting for his taxi. He was on alert, as always, because it was his nature. But there was nothing suspicious and no one who set off any alarm bells. The taxi came and Jace climbed inside.
“Der Flughafen, bitte,” he told the man.
“Ja, mein Herr.”
Jace turned his head, watched the city slide by. Why was he having that dream again? He always had it, but he sometimes went for months—years at one point—without it. So why was he thinking about the FBI and the way his world had flipped upside down one dark night when his parents turned out not to be who he’d always thought they were?
But then he hadn’t been who he’d thought he was either. Jace shoved a hand through his hair, yanking on the ends to cause himself pain. If he had some pain, maybe he’d stop this mental journey before he reached the end. Before he recalled all that had happened to him and his family in the years since.
He picked up his phone and sent a quick text to Ian Black, founder of Black Defense International and legendary badass in the Spec Ops community. Ian answered within seconds—as if he weren’t running a multi-layered covert organization with operations around the globe that required all his time and attention.
Thought you were planning some fun before you came back?
Jace frowned. How did Ian always know when something was wrong? Had fun. I’m done.
All work and no play. It’ll catch up with you one day.
Look who’s talking, Jace fired back.
Ian didn’t answer for a few moments. But then he did, and Jace nearly snorted. Yeah, fine. Something’s come up anyway. Might have a job for you.
Relief rolled through him. He liked being busy. Needed to be busy. It kept the demons in his head from catching up with him. I’m ready.
Come straight to HQ when you get in. But only if you feel up to it.
If he felt up to it? Hell yes, he would feel up to it. Even if it was two in the morning and he’d been traveling for twenty-four hours straight. He didn’t know any other way to be. Stillness was death. He had to keep moving, keep searching, keep acting—or he’d wither and die.
I’ll be there, boss.
It was late afternoon when Jace Kaiser approached Black Defense International’s Washington, DC headquarters and entered the elevator. Ian Black knew that Jace had arrived because an alert popped up whenever anyone entered the premises. More than that, the system quickly identified which agent it was, informing Ian who to expect. He spun his chair around to gaze at the camera feed from the elevator, searching Jace’s expression for a hint to his mood.
Jace Kaiser was one of his best men, but Ian knew that part of what made the man so good could also destroy him in time. There were days when Ian wasn’t quite sure if Jace was what he seemed, but Ian had taken a chance several years ago and he hadn’t regretted it yet.
Ian kicked back in his chair and waited. Presently, after Jace had cleared the handprint and eye scans necessary to enter, he strode into BDI’s state-of-the-art nerve center. Ian waited, watching the man approach through the glass walls of his office. They made eye contact and Ian nodded. Jace opened the door and stood tall in the entry. “Hey, boss. How you doing?”
Ian eyed the younger man critically. Jace was under strain lately. But Ian understood the kind of strain that required more work, not less. He dropped the pen he’d been tapping on the desk. “Doing good. Thanks for the quick work in Berlin, by the way. We intercepted the shipment two hours ago.”
Jace seemed to relax. “That’s a relief. Last thing we need is more weapons in the hands of terrorists.”
“Truth.” Ian tipped his chin. “Come in and close the door.”
Jace did as instructed, then strolled over and dropped into a chair opposite Ian. “So what’s this potential new job?”
“It’s gone beyond potential in the past few hours…” Ian hesitated. Not because he didn’t trust Jace, but he was still weighing options on whether or not he could send someone else. “We might have a lead on Calypso.”
As expected, Jace’s eyebrows lifted. “How is that possible? We never know where she’s going until it’s too late.”
“True… But this time there’s chatter. Might be wrong, but it might be right.”
If it were true, it was pretty damned important. Jace knew it as well as he did. Calypso was the nom de plume of an assassin that had caused a lot of trouble over the past couple of years. She had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, and she’d taken out targets that Ian would have preferred she did not. He could admire her skill, but he’d often wished they weren’t on opposing sides. She sometimes reminded him of his former employee Victoria Royal, though without the scruples Victoria possessed. Vic had been a hell of a sniper for BDI before she’d fallen in love and gone over to the Hostile Operations Team, a Top Secret military unit that was run by the enigmatic Colonel John Mendez. There were days when Ian still hated that he’d lost h
er to Mendez’s crew.
“Leonid Sokolov is having a big party at his summer estate near St. Petersburg in two days. It’s his fiftieth birthday and he’s pulling out all the stops. It’s rumored that Putin might even make an appearance. I’ve received credible intel that Calypso is targeting Sokolov and plans to attack at the party. I’ll be honest—I’m not sure what to make of the information in spite of the credibility. But it’s coming from more than one source, which tells me there’s something to it.”
Jace was frowning. He understood the significance as much as Ian did. “Then why is Sokolov putting himself out there? He could cancel the party.”
“He could. But he won’t. He doesn’t think anyone can penetrate his circle. He’s got heavy security—plus he’s one of those macho men who doesn’t want anyone to think they can threaten him and get away with it.”
Jace’s eye roll wasn’t unexpected. “What do you need me to do?”
This was the part Ian didn’t like. He usually sent Jace to Russia when nobody else could do the job as well as he could, but Ian wasn’t unaware of the mental toll it took. There might be a breaking point, but Ian was fairly certain today wasn’t it. He made a decision. “I need you there in case it’s accurate. There’s a rumor the Gemini Syndicate wants Sokolov dead. Sending in an assassin like Calypso is something they would do.”