Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mia (Kindle Worlds)

by Anne L. Parks

  Mia chuckled but froze when her phone lit up with an incoming text.

  Don't forget…you will always be mine.

  Ben watched as Mia's face turned ghost white. She flipped her phone over, and Ben noticed a slight tremor in her hand.

  "Everything okay?" he asked.

  "Yes…of course." A small smile slid into place as if on autopilot. But not the least bit convincing.

  "You're sure? Because you look like you just got bad news." He head nodded toward her cell phone.

  "Just work stuff." She took a drink from her water glass. "I hate dealing with things after hours."

  "No one else died, did they?" Ben chuckled at his own joke.

  Mia choked on her water.

  "Sorry," he muttered, "bad joke."

  Mia wiped her mouth with her napkin as Ben mentally kicked his own ass. What was he thinking? Sometimes he forgot the real world didn't find the macabre humor prevalent within SEAL units funny. He risked a quick glance at Mia. Her smile lit up her beautiful green eyes. He hoped that meant she wasn't going to hold his lack of decency against him.

  Besides, Ben had another issue.

  The man with the blonde at the other table made the hairs on the back of Ben's neck stand on end. When he first caught sight of them, he was convinced the blonde was Alina. Checking her out, however, had not only caught the couple's unwanted attention, but it had the additional sting of making Mia feel slighted. Both things he never intended. If the couple was there to keep track of Ben's movements, drawing Mia into the line of fire was potentially dangerous to her health.

  The second part—well, Mia was a knockout. He'd hate for her to think he didn't appreciate her many assets. In fact, he wanted his tongue all over her naked assets.

  The meal arrived and Ben was surprised at how well the conversation flowed. Mia was pretty damned interesting. She loved the ocean and could sit on the beach for hours, but also enjoyed hiking, skiing, and whitewater rafting. Underneath that boring bean counter facade was the heart of a fellow thrill seeker. She was a midwestern girl at heart, but had decided she leave the comfort and security of home to venture out into the big, unknown world. Ben respected her for that. He had done much the same, and knew it was exhilarating yet intimidating.

  After dessert and coffee, Ben paid the bill and they left the restaurant. The couple Ben believed had been surveilling Mia and him during dinner were just short of a public indecency charge as they seemed to be challenging one another in a game of "whose tongue can go farther down the other's throat". Maybe Ben had been wrong, and it was just a guy and his midlife crisis.

  Standing outside the restaurant, Mia stuck her hand out to shake his. "Thanks for a nice evening. It was really nice meeting you."

  Nice. What the hell?

  "I'll take you home," he said, ignoring her outstretched hand and stepping around her. He took a few steps down the sidewalk toward his rental car.

  "That's not necessary," Mia said, but she was fast walking to catch up to him. "I can just take the Metro."

  Ben glanced at his watch. Okay, so eight o'clock on a Friday night was not that late to take the Metro. But Ben wasn't ready to end his night with Mia. He liked her. Yeah, he appreciated her drool-worthy body, but there was so much more to her. She was witty, and made him laugh. And smart. Really easy to be around. All things he hadn't found in any of the women he had dated.

  He glanced at her walking next to him, their shoulders almost touching. "I want to make sure you get home safely."

  She stared at him for a moment. Was gentlemanly courtesy really dead—or just an oddity inside the DC Beltway? He took her by the elbow and continued to his parking spot around the corner. "Besides, Ice would have my ass if I just dropped you at the Metro station."

  To his amazement, she didn't balk when he opened the passenger side door, and stepped back so she could get into the car. He rounded the front of the vehicle and slid behind the steering wheel.

  Mia sat giggling next to him.

  "Something funny?" he asked.

  "I have a mental picture of Caroline pummeling your chest with her little fists."

  "I guess it would be more of a verbal beat down." He started the engine and pulled onto the street. "But then Wolf would kick the shit out of me for upsetting his wife."

  Mia tossed her head back and her laughter filled the car. The sound was like a lightning bolt that zapped Ben's heart and spread an unfamiliar but comfortable warmth through him. He couldn't help the wide grin that slid across his face when she laughed. It was like a favorite song he fell in love with the first time hearing it.

  "Now that I can see," she said, and sucked in a deep breath. Her radiant smile remained on her face, and he felt pressure against his zipper. How the hell was she able to turn him on simply by smiling?

  Ben flipped on the turn signal to change lanes. The only other vehicle close to him was a black BMW behind him. He glanced in the side mirror, and then back over his shoulder to check his blind spot. Traffic was light, especially for DC. He switched lanes, shifting his gaze to his rearview mirror. The black BMW changed lanes, also.

  "How long have you lived here?" Ben asked, still watching the Beemer. The car maintained a perfect three-car length distance behind them. Red flares were shooting off in his head. Something wasn't right. Was this the couple from the restaurant? Or had they tipped off someone waiting outside?

  There was also the possibility that the run-in with the Russian woman was causing him to see spies everywhere. Ben tried to shrug off the feeling of being followed, but kept a close eye on the black car.

  "Only a couple of years," Mia said. "I moved up here after Caroline went to San Diego to be with Matthew."

  She shifted in her seat slightly, but didn't look out the back window. As far as Ben could tell, Mia was oblivious to the potential threat at their six. Probably best for Ben to keep her in the dark—for now.

  "Where did you move from?" he asked.

  "Norfolk. I lived in the same apartment building as Caroline. She didn't live there for long, but we managed to become pretty good friends. At first we would just say 'hi' when we would both be getting our mail, or when we ran into each coming and going. One day, I was headed to the pool with a bottle of wine, and she remarked about 'wine being a great idea.' I invited her to join me, and we became friends." She glanced out the front window, and pointed. "Second street ahead…take a right. My place is the fourth townhouse down the block."

  Ben nodded, drifted into the right lane, and slowed for the turn. The BMW mimicked him. Sweat rolled down Ben's back, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Whoever was in the car had to be following them. Too coincidental for Ben's liking.

  Mia's eyes narrowed and brows furrowed—she figured out something was wrong. She looked out the back window. "Who is that?"

  Dammit!

  Ben considered playing it off as nothing, but that seemed like a dick move. She deserved to know she was potentially at risk, especially since he had brought trouble to her front door—literally. "I don't know, but they're either going to the same place we are, or they want to know where we're going. Do you recognize the car? Maybe one of your neighbors?"

  "Black BMW's are a dime a dozen in this neighborhood. Could be anyone," she said, and faced forward in her seat. "What are we going to do?"

  "Well, we are not going to lead them to your house." Ben went past the turn Mia pointed out to him, drove three blocks up, switched lanes, and turned left. Pressing firmly on the gas pedal, he sped ahead while the Beemer was delayed by traffic. A car pulled away from the curb in front of Ben, which opened up a parking spot. Pulled alongside the curb, Ben put the car into park, and cut the headlights. The black car drove past them, and turned down the next block.

  "Let's see if we can get out of sight before they come back around the block." Gunning the gas, Ben crossed two lanes and turned in the opposite direction of the BMW. Zig-zagging through the streets of Georgetown, Ben was convinced he had lost his tail, and
made his way back to Mia's townhouse. Parking around the corner, he helped her out of the car, a tight grip on her elbow as they made their way down the sidewalk.

  At the top of the landing, Mia's shaky hand tried to place the key in the lock to open the front door. Deep gashes marred the wood along the doorframe. Ben took the key from Mia, and pushed against the door. It swung open.

  Even in the waning light Ben could see the foyer and hallway littered with broken glass, picture frames, and other items that had been smashed.

  "Oh my God," Mia whispered through a gasp. She stepped around Ben, but he grabbed her arm before she could take more than a couple of steps inside. Glaring at him, she twisted her arm to release his grasp. "What the hell—"

  Ben placed a finger to his lips. Mia probably wasn't used to being in this type of situation and, most likely, assumed whoever had broken in had already left.

  Ben wasn't as confident.

  Feet shuffled overhead. Mia's head snapped back, her eyes wide, tracking the sounds in the room above.

  We need to get the fuck out of here!

  The hairs on the back of Ben's neck were standing on end. He swung his eyes to the side. A large figure crossed the hall and ducked behind a doorway. A black muzzle came around the corner, aimed straight at them.

  Ben tossed Mia to the floor, sprawling across her body as a shot exploded above them. The bullet whizzed past, splintering the corner of the open front door. Ben reached around to his lower back for his pistol. Not there. Fuck! Safely locked in his glove box, it wasn't doing him much good just sitting in the car while men were shooting at them in the house. Of course, he hadn't thought he would need it on his date.

  The front door stood ajar and offered the only viable option of getting out of the house. Unfortunately, the shooter would have a straight sight line to shoot them in the back. Shitty option. Still, a bad option was better than staying put and getting shot.

  "We have to get out of here," he said next to Mia's ear. "I'm going to get up, you get directly in front of me and run out the door, all the way to the car." He pulled the key fob from his front pocket and slide it into her hand. "Get in the car and drive somewhere safe. Somewhere you don't normally go."

  "You'll be with me, right?" she whispered, her voice raising an octave as she spoke.

  "Yes." Unless I get shot in the back. "But if I'm not right behind you—you leave without me. I can fend for myself. I'm trained for this type of situation."

  She turned her head, her eyes wide, and stared at him. "I can't just leave you here."

  "You can, and you will." Ben placed his lips to the side of her head. "Promise me, Mia."

  She nodded her head as another round fired from the gun and burrowed into the floor beside Ben's head.

  That's getting a little too close for comfort.

  Ben jumped to his feet, and pulled Mia up, placing his body in front of hers. "Move!" He pushed her away from him. She sprinted towards the door. Ben was close on her heels. Grabbing the door handle, he tugged the door closed behind him as another blast shattered the quiet evening.

  They took off toward the car. Ben held tightly to Mia's hand, thankful she was able to keep up the fast pace. They had to get to the car, and get Mia away from the danger Ben had inadvertently brought upon her.

  This was not the first date he had envisioned, and doubted he would be able to convince her to give him another shot at making a good impression. Men with guns ransacking her house and shooting at her because of her blind date was not a positive in most women's books.

  As they rounded the corner, Ben glanced back down the block towards the house. A large man barreled down the sidewalk toward them, the gun by his side. "Toss me the keys," Ben said as they approached the car.

  Unlocking the doors, the two jumped into the vehicle. Ben had the engine started before either one could get the doors closed. Tires squealing, they sped down the street.

  Ben hit the speed dial button on his phone and called Lance. The line rang twice before it was picked up.

  "Lance, it's Humps. I have a situation here."

  "Thought you were on a date? Did you forget to pack a raincoat?"

  "I wish it was that simple. At dinner, I had a couple a little too interested in my date and me for my comfort. We left there without incident, but I picked up a tail driving her home. Not overly skilled—I was able to shake it fairly easily."

  "Get a look at the driver? Plate number?"

  "Negative on both. Driver stayed too far back for me to see him. Dark windows, so no joy when he slid passed us after I pulled to the curb. No front plate, and he turned the corner before I could get a look at the back."

  "That it?" Lance's voice was steady, but firm and all business.

  "No, we made it back to her place. Front door jimmied, place tossed. At least two tangos still in the house—one upstairs, one on the main floor armed."

  "Did you see either of them?"

  "Yeah, Hulk's little brother popped around the corner from the kitchen with a scatter gun and got off a couple rounds of bird shot in our direction."

  "Either one of you hit?"

  "No, we bolted and got to the car. We're headed your way," Ben glanced in his rearview mirror. No other cars were behind him. "No sign of followers."

  "What's your ETA?"

  "About ten mikes, provided we make it over the bridge without getting slowed down."

  "Roger. Go straight to your room. No detours. I'll meet you there."

  "Copy that, out here." Ben hit the end button and glanced over at Mia. There was just enough light for him to see her white pallor. Slipping his hand into hers, he gave her a gentle squeeze.

  Her eyes were wide, and she stared at him, fear and outrage darkening the green. Lifting one of her hands to his mouth, he pressed her fingers to his lips. "Sorry I got you into this mess. I know this is way beyond the definition of 'show my friend from out of town a good time'."

  She swallowed hard. "Who were you talking to on the phone?" Her voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper.

  "My current commanding officer, Ritt Knight. He's a good guy, and can help sort this mess out."

  Mia nodded, but the vacant look in her eyes told Ben she was not completely convinced. "Hey." Mia turned her attention to him. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I know we don't know each other very well, but if you believe anything, believe that I would put myself in harm's way before I ever let anyone get close enough to hurt you."

  She continued to stare at him for a moment before exhaling. Her shoulders dropped, and a faint smile played across her lips. "I believe you, Ben, and I trust you."

  Ben laced his fingers with hers, and rested their hands on his leg. Checking the traffic behind him again to make sure no one had come up while he wasn't looking, he pressed on the gas pedal, and sped toward the hotel.

  Mia startled at the knock on Ben's hotel room door. She knew his commanding officer was due to arrive, but she was on edge, her nerves hot wires bouncing off asphalt. In a thunderstorm.

  Ben seemed to think the break-in at her house was somehow related to him. Mia had her doubts. Ever since she discovered Riordan coming out of her office, strange things had been happening. Riordan's death. The perplexing file. Pearl's outright fear when Mia attempted to return it to her. Something contained in those documents had caused Pearl to have a heart attack and put her in a coma. Mia couldn't prove it, but she knew it deep in her bones. It was a iciness that burrowed into the marrow and chilled her from the inside out whenever she considered the untimeliness of Pearl's trauma. The same cold that was present when Mia was questioned by her boss. So many questions—who the men were that broke into her home, what they were looking for, and why they were trying to kill her?

  Everything circled back to the mysterious file.

  A tall, muscular man with blonde hair and intense ice blue eyes followed Ben into the room.

  "Mia, this is Major Ritt Knight," Ben said.

  Ritt put his hand out for her
to shake. "Everyone calls me Lance."

  She took his hand firmly in hers, not wanting the man to think she was some weak woman with a wimpy handshake. "Nice to meet you," she said.

  "Likewise." Lance sat on the edge of the bed across from her chair. "I understand you had some excitement tonight?"

  Ben snorted. "That's an understatement." He leaned against the desk next to Mia, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I just can't figure out how they knew about Mia, and where she lives. I mean, this was our first date—it's not like we have a long term relationship. How could they target her so quickly?"

  Mia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Should she tell them what she suspected? She had no proof her allegations were true. They were all supposition based on some weird coincidences and bad feelings she had. What if they thought she was insane and dismissed her conclusions?

  Lance was staring at her. In fact, he hadn't taken his eyes off her since he sat down. It was as if he was reading her like a mystery, and putting clues together. "Do you have any ideas about that, Mia?"

  He knows. Not specifics, of course. How could he? No doubt he picked up on her body language. Mia would lose her ass gambling. She did not possess the ability to put on a poker face.

  Glancing into her lap, she took a deep breath, and gathered her scattered thoughts. She looked at Ben, then Lance, and cleared her throat. "Perhaps. A few weird things have happened at work lately, but I'm not entirely sure how they are related to this—if they are—or each other. It could be nothing."

  Lance leaned forward a bit, his sight still trained on hers. "Bounce it off us and let's see if we can connect the dots."

  Mia explained how she had run into Riordan outside her office, and then finding the mysterious file. Ben's eyebrows drew together tightly as she relayed the information, and Mia was unsure if he was concentrating on what she was saying or irritated that she hadn't told him earlier. Although, there was really no reason she would've brought any of this up to him. The subject was not exactly suitable discussion on a first date.

  "Where is the file now?" Lance asked.