Mission: Her Rescue

by Anna Hackett

  Seth snatched up his high-tech CXM7 integrated assault rifle from the storage rack and slung it over his shoulder. “Felt like stretching my legs.”

  Nearby, Smith Creed—his head almost brushing the roof of the craft—was pulling out extra weapons and sliding additional grenades onto his belt. The big man was all muscle. Colorado born and bred, he had dirty-blond hair and a beard several shades darker. He always carried more weapons than the rest of them.

  The team medic, Callie Kimura, was checking her backpack, her CXM already in place on her back. Her lean body was also covered in her black body armor.

  “Ready?” Lachlan asked.

  They all nodded. Seth lifted one of the rappel lines, grabbed an anchor, and clicked it onto his belt. Lachlan opened the side door, the sunlight glinting off the metal at his wrist. He’d lost an arm on the mission that had officially ended his military career, but Ty had supplied him with one hell of a sophisticated prosthetic. Their team leader looked over and then jumped out of the aircraft with practiced ease.

  Seth followed, his pulse not even increasing.

  He’d leaped out of helicopters and planes too many times to count. He’d joined the CIA, wanting to defend his country and make a difference. He snorted at the memory, warm air rushing at his face, and felt the scars on his cheek tighten.

  Instead, he’d learned that everyone—young or old, sweet or antagonistic—had secrets. No one was ever who they seemed, and it was best to never trust anyone. Ever.

  The heat and humidity hit him like a wall as he slid down to the ground. As soon as his boots hit the dirt, he unclipped and whipped up his rifle.

  The rest of the team landed beside him, and were now moving across the wreck site. The X8 flew overhead.

  “See you soon.” Blair’s voice echoed in Seth’s microdot earpiece.

  These were the only people Seth trusted. The members of Team 52 had proven they had his back, time and time again. That was all he needed.

  He followed Lachlan, as the team leader made for the main part of the fuselage.

  This wreckage was a case in point for people’s dishonesty. Some assholes had brought the plane down. This was no accident.

  “RPG impact.” Smith was crouched, rubbing his gloved fingers over a sheet of mangled white metal.

  “You sure?” Lachlan asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “What a fucking mess,” Axel ground out.

  “Poor January.” Callie looked around shaking her head. “I really liked her.”

  His team had all liked the archeologist, and found his frustration with her amusing. Seth’s chest was so tight it hurt. However much the hellcat had clawed at him, he’d never wanted her dead. She’d been filled with life, and he hated knowing that was gone.

  Seth wandered through wreckage, glass crunching under his boots. There was nothing here but scrap metal and death.

  “Any idea what the artifact she was carrying was?” Axel asked.

  Lachlan shook his head. “Might have been similar to the crystal sphere she brought in the other week.”

  But they didn’t know for sure.

  Historians and archeologists didn’t always have things right. The current timeline of human civilization was not entirely correct. At the end of the last ice age, rising flood waters had destroyed many human cities and settlements. Cultures far more advanced than current academics accepted—and their advancements—had been wiped out.

  But sometimes, pieces of their advanced technology turned up. And sometimes the cultures that had risen to power and prominence after had also gotten their hands on it.

  Just weeks ago, they’d locked up a dangerous artifact in the Area 52 secure storage facility in Nevada. Scientists had pulled it from the ice in northern Canada. That mission had gone bad. Really bad. People had died, but in the end, they’d recovered the artifact, and Lachlan had fallen head over heels for the lovely Dr. Rowan Schafer whose scientists had discovered the artifact.

  Seth shook his head. He couldn’t believe scary, focused Lachlan had succumbed, although Seth had grown to like Rowan. Love was a dumb risk, and it was just asking for trouble. But Rowan was pretty nice, and Lachlan was happier than Seth had ever seen him.

  “I’ve got a body,” Callie called out grimly. “Male. Wearing a uniform. My guess is that he was the pilot.”

  Seth thought of finding January’s body and bile filled his mouth.

  January James had first found a crystal sphere that had electrocuted one of her team, and she’d handed it over to Team 52. Then, she’d sent a message saying that she’d found something else and was bringing that in, too.

  What the hell had it been? Without even a tiny clue, they were doing nothing more than looking for a needle in a damn haystack.

  “Search the rubble,” Lachlan ordered. “January carried the first artifact in a secure case, so if the second one is in a similar case, there’s a good chance it survived the crash.”

  “Unless someone else already recovered it,” Axel muttered.

  With his gloved hand, Seth shifted pieces of metal aside. His head filled with disconcerting images. He wondered what January’s last terrifying minutes had been like. He hated that she’d probably been terrified.

  Lachlan pulled out a fancy scanner and started moving it over the wreck site. It made a series of low beeps. Another of Ty’s creations.

  “Wait.” Smith crouched. They all turned toward the man.

  Seth knew that Smith was a hell of a tracker. His crotchety, mountain-man father had taken him hunting since he was a boy.

  Smith was hunched over by the largest part of the wreckage. Seth could see a seat from the plane, tipped over on its side.

  “What’ve you got?” Lachlan asked.

  Seth moved closer, and saw what Smith was looking at. He sucked in a breath. “Blood.”

  Smith nodded and rose. He moved steadily, staring at the ground. He headed toward the tree line.

  “Smith?” Seth said.

  The big man looked up, his gaze meeting Seth’s. “There’s a blood trail. Someone survived.”

  Chapter Two

  Seth’s pulse spiked. There was no evidence that it was January’s blood, but he scanned the trees, trying to tamp down the unfamiliar emotions churning inside him.

  He was known as Mr. Cool in the field, and right now, he felt far from cool.

  Lachlan gave a curt nod. “Smith and Seth, follow the trail. Find the survivor. The rest of us will keep searching the wreckage for the artifact, or any clues to who did this.”

  Seth gripped his CXM. He followed Smith into the dense trees.

  Their boots squelched in the mud, and the scent of rotting leaves hit him. They pushed through the heavy vegetation, and it wasn’t long before Seth was sweating under his gear.

  He’d been part of the CIA’s Special Activities Division, which was the Agency’s special forces unit. He’d worked in some shitty places, and this certainly wasn’t his first jungle rodeo. He felt a sting on his neck and he slapped at the mosquito.

  “How bad is the bleeding?” Seth asked.

  “Not too bad,” Smith said. “Wouldn’t have killed them.”

  Seth watched his teammate crouch again, touching the muddy leaves under their boots. Smith might have learned to track with his dad, but being a Navy SEAL had helped him hone his skills. The man had tracked terrorists and insurgents all over the planet.

  Smith rose. “This way.”

  They kept moving, leaping over the decaying trunk of a fallen tree.

  “Seth? Smith?” Lachlan’s tense voice in their earpieces.

  Seth touched his ear. “We’re here, Lachlan.”

  “Brooks just made contact. We have unfriendlies incoming.”

  Seth cursed. Brooks was their comms and intel geek back at base. He’d be in his computer room at Area 52, monitoring satellite feed and directing their comms. Seth caught Smith’s gaze. Unfriendlies could mean anything.

  “I have ten bogeys converging on the wr
eck site from the north.”

  “Can you see who they are?” Seth asked.

  “Negative. Could be drug runners. Could be the other type of bad guys we’re used to.”

  Seth frowned. They were close to the border with Mexico, so he knew the jungle here was teeming with drug runners.

  The other kind of bad guys were the kind who would do anything to get their hands on ancient technology that they could use to advance their agenda. That usually included hostile regimes, terrorists, crime syndicates, drug lords.

  “Keep going,” Lachlan said. “But watch your backs, and then get back here, ASAP.”

  The sound of distant gunfire echoed through the jungle. A flock of startled birds rose from a nearby tree.

  As one, Smith and Seth swiveled, raising their rifles.

  “Still a fair way away,” Smith murmured. “But close to the wreck site.”

  Seth nodded. He wasn’t worried. Their team was the best. Even if Lachlan, Callie, and Axel faced ten opponents, the odds were in the trio’s favor. They could take care of themselves.

  “Could just be drug runners,” Seth said.

  Smith grunted. “Maybe.” Then suddenly the man stiffened.

  Seth frowned. “What—?”

  Gunfire peppered the vegetation around them. With vicious curses, both men dived for cover.

  They landed behind a fallen log. Seth came up to his knees, whipping his rifle up and staring down the sight.

  Several soldiers in dark-green fatigues came out of the jungle.

  Seth fired. The men ducked for cover.

  Bullets slammed into the log in front of Seth, and he dropped down behind it. Smith was nearby, fiddling with his rifle, then in a smooth move, he rose on one knee and fired.

  Thump.

  Seth knew the sound. He’d fired a grenade. Both Smith and Seth ducked their heads down.

  Boom.

  Flames lit up the jungle and mud flew through the air.

  At the sound of their attackers’ cries, Seth leaped up. A man staggered close, and Seth kicked the rifle out of the man’s hand. He followed through with a punch to the gut and a brutal hook to the jaw.

  The man went down with a groan.

  Seth raced over to check the others. “Three bodies.”

  “Where’s the fourth?” Smith turned in a circle.

  Suddenly, a knife flew through the air. Seth reacted, dodging to the side. He felt a slight sting on his cheek. The knife flew past him and embedded in the trunk of the tree.

  The dark-haired soldier paused for a second, then swiveled and ran.

  No, you fucking don’t. Seth charged after the man.

  Tearing through the jungle, Seth heard the man huffing and puffing. As Seth sprinted through the trees, vines and leaves slapped his face.

  Then he heard the man cry out. Seth frowned, and a second later, discovered what had startled the man. The ground was suddenly gone beneath Seth’s feet.

  Shit. He rolled, tumbling down a steep embankment. He finally landed on his ass and continued the slide down. It was a hell of a bumpy ride.

  He could just make out the man ahead of him, tumbling head over ass. Mud flew up around Seth’s body, and something smacked against the back of his head. A rock, maybe. But he kept sliding, and finally he somersaulted out onto flat ground.

  He took a second to drag in a breath and assess his body. A few aches, but nothing was broken. He checked his CXM and blew out a breath. The rifle wasn’t damaged.

  Static burst to life in his ear. “…Seth…you…re…”

  “I’m here.” He thought it was Smith. “Fell down an embankment.”

  Static was his only response. Dammit. He rose, and he saw the man he’d been chasing kneeling in front of him.

  The man was covered in mud and rose unsteadily. He spun to face Seth and raised his fists.

  Seth smiled, slinging his CXM onto his back. “You want to play? Fine.”

  The man threw a few sloppy, desperate punches. Seth dodged and dodged again. He kept evading and didn’t attack. He watched the man’s face twist. He was getting angry.

  Charging again, the man swung out. Seth blocked the punch.

  “Had enough?” Seth asked.

  The man growled, but Seth was done fucking around. He slammed one hard punch into the man’s gut, and then followed with a hard chop to the back of the man’s neck. The mercenary crumpled like a waterlogged rag, out cold.

  Seth swiveled and looked back up the embankment. Shit. It would be a slippery, pain-in-the-ass climb back up.

  Then, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck, and all his instincts flared to life. He stilled.

  He turned slowly and scanned the jungle.

  He wasn’t alone.

  Careful not to tense up, he kept his gaze moving. He didn’t want to let his company know that he knew they were there.

  Nothing moved, and he couldn’t see anyone.

  He took a step toward the trees, when suddenly, a mud-covered figure burst out of the green and charged at him.

  The person moved fast and slammed into his body. Seth tried to grab his attacker, but the slick mud made finding purchase extremely difficult.

  Together, they whirled in a circle, and then Seth’s boots hit something. Fuck. He tripped, falling flat on his back on the muddy ground.

  His attacker landed on his chest and straddled him.

  Seth tried to move, but his attacker grabbed a large stone, raised it, and slammed it downward.

  Shit. He dodged his head to the side. The rock hit the mud an inch from his ear. With a cry, his attacker raised the rock again.

  He stiffened. A feminine cry.

  What the hell?

  Surprise made him slow, and this time, the rock glanced off Seth’s temple. He saw stars.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  That’s when his attacker froze. Seth looked up, and through the mud streaking her face, he saw startled hazel eyes.

  “James?” he said.

  “Lynch?” she breathed.

  Holy shit. Energy flooded his veins. January was alive.

  Seth surged up, grabbed the rock from her hand and tossed it away. “You’re alive.”

  “You’re perceptive as always, Lynch.”

  There was the snark he knew, although it was lacking its usual power. Sensations burst in his chest, and one was huge and clear—relief. She might be the biggest pain in the ass he knew, but he’d never wanted her dead.

  “You’re alive,” he said again.

  She made a choked noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob. Then, she shocked him by throwing her arms around him and holding on tight.

  Seth wrapped his arms around her. “I’ve got you.”

  Her chest hitched. “You tell anyone I hugged you and I’ll call you a liar.”

  A laugh burst from him. “I won’t tell anyone that you had a moment of weakness, James. Besides, you beaned me with a rock.”

  She sniffed. “I’d apologize, but I know how hard your head is.”

  Seth tightened his arms and fought back another laugh.

  January laughed, too, but it was a watery sound. She pulled back. “My plane crashed.”

  He sighed. “Brought down. RPG.”

  “What?” Her eyes went wide. “I had a student and archeologist on board. And the pilot, Carlos—”

  He smoothed out his features. “No sign that anyone else survived, James. It was a miracle you made it.”

  She sucked in a breath, a spasm of pain crossing her face. “They’re dead?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  “Who?” Her eyes sparked with sudden fury. “Who did this?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  She swallowed, pressing a hand to her temple. “They were after what I was carrying, weren’t they?”

  “I think that’s an accurate guess. You still got the artifact?”

  She nodded. “Artifacts. There are two. I stashed them close by. There are a hell of a lot of people wandering the
jungle, and the guns warned me they probably weren’t friendly.”

  “Yeah, the rest of my team at the wreck site came under attack.”

  January bit her bottom lip. “We need to get out of here.”

  “We do. But first, let’s get the artifacts.”

  She nodded and pushed off him.

  Seth rose and scanned her. No injuries that he could see under all of the mud. She was compact and curvy. He was always surprised by how small she was. Her feisty personality made her seem taller.

  “You were bleeding,” he said.

  “Cut on my leg.” She held a leg out and he saw the tear in her pants. “I think the mud sealed it up. I might die of infection, but I’m not going to succumb to blood loss.”

  She was covered in muck from head to toe. “You look good in brown, James.”

  “Screw you, Lynch.” But there wasn’t much heat in her voice. “Once we’re out of here, I’m finding a shower. A hot one.”

  The disturbing image of January James naked under falling water hit Seth. Shit, no. His cock twitched. She was attractive, with her fit, curvy body, and long, thick, brown hair. But that tongue of hers could flay a man alive, and not in a good way.

  “Lead the way,” he said.

  She moved through the jungle easily. She was clearly used to digs in tough terrain. Damn, the woman had survived a plane crash and was still charging ahead. A will of steel. He had to admire that.

  “There have been armed men everywhere,” she said. “I’ve been hiding since the crash.”

  “Yeah. Could be drug runners.”

  She looked up at him. “You don’t believe that.”

  “Nope.”

  She stopped a few times to orient herself, and Seth realized she’d marked her path with nicks on some trees. She finally stopped near a large tree, and when she crouched down, he spotted a hole in the base of the trunk. He guessed it had been home to various jungle animals in the past.

  January crawled inside, and he had a perfect view of her ass. Her rounded, toned ass.

  Seth sucked in a breath and looked up at the canopy. Get a grip, Lynch. She just survived a crash and a night alone in the jungle.

  “Got it,” she called back.

  Suddenly, noises in the trees caught his ear. Seth spun, hands clenching on his CXM. Voices. Coming closer.