Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mia (Kindle Worlds)

by Anne L. Parks

  "Shopping." Hands on hips, her tone was clipped and agitated. "How the hell did you get in here?"

  "Housekeeping."

  Ben waited. That was too easy of an answer. No way Tink was able to just ask to be let in.

  A shit-eating grin slid across Tink's face, and Ben knew he was right. "I can be very persuasive…and I may have promised her a ride on my stallion, also." Tink spread his arms wide across his midsection.

  Ben stepped around Mia and fist-bumped Tink. "Good job, man." Then he caught a glimpse of Mia's face. Well, more precisely, her death glare.

  "So, he gets an atta-boy for promising sex to a woman in order to gain entry to our room?" she ranted. "I would never be able to get away with something like that."

  "Sorry," Tink said. "If I had known you wanted to have sex with me, Mia, I would've asked you for a key."

  Ben's head whipped around, and if he could've summoned daggers to pierce every major artery in Tink's body, he would have. The thought of Tink and Mia having sex made Ben's blood boil. He wanted to throttle Tink, but doubted he could actually get both hand's around the man's thick neck.

  Mia turned on her heel, snatched her bag of clothes from Ben's hand, and stomped into the bathroom. She slammed the door so hard, the sound reverberated through the room, and shook the walls.

  "I apologize, brother," Tink said through his laughter. "She pitched it out there—nothing else I could do but knock it out of the park."

  Ben took a deep breath. If it had been anyone other than Mia, he would've been rolling on the floor with tears in his eyes. "No worries, man, but if you even imagine her naked, I will kill you."

  "Copy." Tink stood, grabbed a water from the mini-fridge, and sucked down half the bottle in one swallow. "Be careful, Humps. It's dangerous to get personal with an asset. Fucks with your better judgment when you have to make tough decisions."

  Ben slumped into the chair and dragged his hand down his face. "I hear ya. This was not the way it was supposed to turn out."

  "It never is."

  A knock at the door drew their attention. Tink escorted Lance into the room carrying an armload of file folders in various colors and slid them onto the desk. "Where's Mia?" he asked.

  Ben pointed to the closed bathroom door.

  Lance nodded. "Did she get her shopping done? We've got lots of work to do."

  "Yeah, I'll get her." Ben got up and knocked on the bathroom door.

  So much for spending the afternoon in bed learning more about Mia and what made her scream.

  7

  Mia ran a brush she found at the bottom of her purse through her hair. All she had by way of makeup was light pink lipgloss. It was better than nothing, and at least she felt a little more like a human and not roadkill that had been run over several times. She hated not having her shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Although, having to use Ben's body wash did leave his scent on her skin. She had intended to buy toiletries while out shopping—until getting back to the hotel after the changing room hook-up became a top priority.

  The quick shower calmed her down and she was no longer pissed at Mason—much—for his intrusion on the potential afternoon romp she and Ben were planning. Still, she was wildly disappointed. After the toe-curling orgasm Ben coaxed out of her, she was like a giddy schoolgirl ready to experience his full talents.

  A knock at the door pulled her from visions of Ben, naked, staring into her eyes as he pushed deep inside her.

  Later…

  Please, let there be a later.

  Taking a calming breath, she opened the door, and immediately zeroed in on the the huge stack of files on the desk. "Are those from Riordan's thumb drive?"

  "Yep," Lance answered. "Turns out the former CPA was great with numbers, but fairly predictable with his passwords. It took my IT guys about a minute and a half to break it."

  Two of the files were marked as cash donations, but one of them had an added notation: CALICO. Mia pulled both files from the stack, dropped into a chair, and studied them. The cash donation file had the standard entries; name of the donor, amount, and whether the money had had been earmarked for a specific purpose or was deposited into a general fund. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She closed the file, and set it aside.

  The CALICO file was odd. Not because it was a special fund within the foundation—that was normal. It was the lack of similar files that was sending up big, bright flairs. Either the Hutton Foundation didn't delineate between other special funds, or Riordan wanted Mia to pay particular attention to that one. Spreading the papers across the table, she went through the entries, trying to determine who was making the donations. Immediately, her heart rate kicked up a notch, and the hairs on her arms prickled.

  "This is interesting," she said, flipping back and forth between the pages.

  "What did you find?" Ben stepped behind her and peered at the spreadsheets over her shoulder.

  "Cash donations to a specific charity—CALICO—but all the donations are from an anonymous donor."

  Lance and Mason sat across from her at the table. Lance's eyes narrowed as he tried to look at the papers before peering at Mia. "I didn't think anonymous donations were that unusual for charities."

  "They're not, but I would expect to see at least one or two donations from a non-anonymous source." Mia looked up from the table. "The donations are also close to—but not exactly—the same amount each month. And they are not always on the same date. There is a two-to-three day delta between the dates the donations are accounted for on the spreadsheet. Typically, if it's a monthly donation from one anonymous source, it's on the same date each month, and for the same amount."

  Mason sat forward and rested his arms on the table. "Okay, but we don't know if this is the same donor each time. It could be different people donating each month, and that's why the amounts vary…and the dates listed."

  Mia inhaled and considered Mason's statement. It was possible, but was it plausible? She didn't think so. That many anonymous donors for one specific account, and all in cash? It reeked of illegal activity.

  She stood, crossed the room, and carefully pulled a file from the bottom of the stack. CALICO: DISBURSEMENTS.

  Snatching a sheet from the other file, she flipped back and forth, and examined entries on the donation spreadsheet against the disbursements. "What? This can't be right," she muttered under her breath.

  "Uh, Mia, want to share with the rest of us?" Mason asked.

  Mia heard the question, but was concentrating on the information in front of her. She grabbed the files, and sprung from the chair. Mason opened his mouth to speak again, but Mia held up her finger silencing him. She needed to check all the entries, because if her theory was correct, she had found at least one of the breadcrumbs Riordan had left behind.

  After a moment, she looked up, her gaze landing on Ben. She motioned for the men to join her so she could point out what she had uncovered. "Okay, so we have anonymous cash donations coming in," she picked up the spreadsheet. "The day after a cash donation comes in, it goes out…in the exact same amount."

  "Well, if it's earmarked for a certain charity, why wouldn't it go to that charity?" Ben asked.

  "It is very rare that a charitable foundation is able to put one hundred percent of the donation toward the charity, even if it is earmarked. There is still overhead to consider. I would expect the amount specific to the charity to be a flat rate, and use the—let's call it excess—toward overhead."

  Lance crossed his arms across his chest. "What do you mean by 'overhead'?"

  "The cost of running a charity. Fees, salaries…if the charity has a physical plant that employees and volunteers work from, the overhead would be rent, utilities, things like that. The firm I work for charges a fee to the charity to keep the books for them, that's part of the—"

  "Overhead," Lance finished. "Got it. But couldn't that come from the general fund you were talking about?"

  Mia nodded. "Yes, it could, but I would at least expect to see some
of the donations going to bank fees associated with this specific charity, since it appears the funds are kept separate from the main foundation."

  "O—kay," Mason dragged out. "So how much are the fees charged by the bank, and how are they being paid?"

  "That's just it," Mia said, tossing the papers on the bed. "These donations come in and go out so quickly, it doesn't appear there are any charges from the bank. And the Foundation, along with all of it's various charitable activities, all use the same bank—except for CALICO. It uses a different bank. And, if I'm correct, not one I would ever suggest any of my clients use."

  "Why?" Ben asked. "What bank is it?"

  "Based on the information I have—probably Swiss."

  "So complete confidentiality," Lance said. Mia nodded. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath, and scrubbed the new growth along his jaw. "How many of these cash donations come in and go out immediately?"

  "Every one of them."

  Ben looked over her shoulder, and she could feel the heat from his breathing against her skin. "And all of them for the exact amount of the donation?"

  "Yes."

  Mason put his hands on his hips and stared at Mia. "So, what does that indicate?"

  Mia took in a deep breath before answering. She knew it was just a theory, but she would bet money on being correct. "Money laundering."

  "Unless?" Lance asked, opening his eyes again and peering at Mia.

  "The charity is actually a functioning charity."

  Picking up his laptop from the desk, Ben sat at the table, and started pecking the keys with two fingers. "I can't find anything on the Hutton Foundation website that mentions CALICO."

  "A private charity?" Mason asked.

  Mia walked over to the table to see what Ben was looking at on the screen. "That would be ridiculous. Why wouldn't you want a charity listed on your website? It's counterintuitive. More exposure means potentially more donations."

  "Unless you're correct," Ben said, looking up at Mia, "and the charity is being used to launder money."

  Lance sunk into a chair across from Ben. "Which would explain why it has books separate from the rest of the foundations ledgers."

  Ben pushed back from the table and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "I'm going to call Tex, and let him know what Mia found. Maybe he can dig up information on this CALICO."

  Mia slumped into Ben's vacated chair, the weight of a thousand pounds on her shoulders. She was exhausted. The discovery had left her feeling as if she had run a marathon…no, a triathlon. She cursed Riordan for dragging her into this mess. If he had dumped his file on someone else, she might be on her second date with Ben tonight.

  But no—Riordan had to hide the file in her office, and then up and get killed. Now she was forced to deal with a mess he was either too scared or too weak to clean up himself.

  Ben shoved his cell back in his front pocket and placed his hand on Mia's shoulder. The gentle squeezes he gave relaxed her. How he could be so calm and hyper-focused on the issue she had laid at his feet, and still take care of her?

  Because he is one in a million. The type of guy you grab and hold onto as tightly as you can, and never let go.

  "Do you think Senator Hutton has any idea this is going on within his foundation?" Ben asked.

  Mia closed her eyes and concentrated on the gentle massage of her neck. "God, I would hope not."

  "I seriously doubt it, " Lance chimed in. "He seems like a stand-up guy."

  "I like him," Mason said. "He supports me killing terrorists, and understands the need to keep the fight in the bad guy's yard, not ours."

  Mia had only ever heard good things about the senator. He was highly respected among his peers, was the Chairman of the Way and Means Committee, and an advocate for ridding the world of terrorism. His reelections had been almost solely based on providing more money to the military to fight terrorism. Of course, he had a huge military base in his district, as well as weapons manufacturers. But, as far as Mia knew, the man lived as he preached.

  Ben clicked through the various webpages on Will Hutton's senatorial website until he found who he was looking for. John Jacob Jones, or JJ, as Ben knew him. They had met in basic training, went to A-school for Operations Specialist instruction, and were assigned to Strike Group Eleven aboard the USS Nimitz. They even applied for BUD/SEALs together.

  Ben had been accepted. JJ had not.

  They kept in touch for a while, but BUDS was intensive training and left no time for keeping up with friends. Ben had received an announcement when JJ graduated from college after he left the Navy, and an email when his buddy scored a staff position with Senator Hutton. JJ had some resentment toward Ben for getting into BUDS. The last time they had talked—while it wasn't as jovial as when they worked together as OS's, it was still friendly.

  Now, the challenge of how to get in touch with JJ over the weekend. He dialed the number listed for him on the website, it rang a few times before going to voicemail. Ben left a message simply stating that he was in town, and thought they could get together and catch up. No need spilling the beans when there was no way of knowing for sure who had access to JJ's voicemails. Clicking on the email link, Ben typed out a cryptic message:

  JJ,

  It's been a while, hope life is treating you well. I'm in DC going through some training before joining a new unit, and thought I'd touch base with you.

  A friend of mine in town ran across some information that may involve your boss, directly or indirectly, not sure which. Thought I would reach out and see if there was a way to discuss what she has found with Senator Hutton, and let him figure out how best to deal with it.

  Apologies for the ambiguous message, but this is not something to be discussed on a non-secure medium. My number is below. Please give me a call.

  V/r,

  Humps

  He exhaled with the whoosh of the email being sent. Now, to sit and wait…and hope JJ didn't think Ben had lost his mind.

  Tink glanced at his watch. "Time for more food," he announced. "I suggest we order pizza. No sense in going out if we're waiting for people to get back to us. Not the kind of conversations to be held in public."

  "Sounds good to me," Lance said.

  Ben nodded as his stomach growled, making its position clear. "Does that work for you?" Ben asked Mia.

  "Sure," she said a little too quickly.

  "That was convincing," Tink snickered. "Not!"

  "What kind of pizza do you like, Mia?" Lance asked, dismissing Tink.

  "Anything is fine."

  All three men groaned. No man in his right mind ever accepted that things were "fine" when coming from the lips of a woman. In fact, it almost always meant the exact opposite. It was amongst one of the words men most hated in the female vocabulary.

  Mia chuckled. "No, seriously. I'm good with whatever you normally get. If I don't like something on it, I have small fingers, and can pick stuff off."

  Now it was Lance who looked tentative, and Ben was sure the look mirrored his own expression. Tink, on the other hand, slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. Picking up the phone receiver on the nightstand, he pressed a button and waited. "Yeah, who delivers the best pizza to the hotel—fast?" Tink listened to the person on the other end, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Shit hot!" Tink pulled the phone away from his mouth. "Dude at the front desk will order it for us. What do we want?"

  "Meatlovers," Lance answered.

  "Supreme," Ben said.

  Tink pointed at Mia. "Both of those are fine," she said.

  Ugh! Again with the 'fine'.

  Ben's phone rang, and he checked the caller ID. "Tex," he announced, and pressed the answer button. "Hey, man, did you find anything?"

  "Yes, in a manner of speaking."

  "Meaning?" Ben asked.

  "What I found was nothing. As in zip, zilch, nada. I cannot find any mention of a charity anywhere named CALICO."

  Fuck! Well, that was a waste of time.

/>   "Hey, Tex, I'm going to put you on speakerphone so everyone can hear you." Ben pressed the button after receiving affirmation from Tex. "Go ahead, Tex."

  "Who all is there?" he asked.

  "Hey, Tex, it's Lancelot—and Tink's with me."

  "And Mia is here, too," Ben said, winking at her.

  "Mia! Why the hell haven't you come back to visit me?" Tex chastised, eliciting a grin from her.

  "Soon, I promise."

  "I'm holding you to that…and bring that cocksucker Humps with you."

  Mia laughed, and that bubble in Ben's chest with her name on it expanded and popped, spreading warmth throughout Ben's body, clear to the tips of his fingers, and all the way to his toes. He loved her laugh and the way it made him feel. But it also scared the ever-loving shit out of him. He had never had a woman make him feel so…smitten…and stupid. And like he would do just about anything she requested, as long as it made her happy.

  Basically, he had turned into a sap over the course of two days.

  "What do you mean, there's no charity by that name?" Lance asked. Ben shook the sentimental thoughts from his head, and reengaged in the conversation. There was time to examine Mia and her ability to turn him into mush later.

  "I've run it through every check I have and nothing comes up. At least no charity comes up."

  "Well, damn." Lance leaned back in his chair and stared at the wall.

  "I know that's not what you wanted to hear," Tex said. "But it at least gives you some information."

  "And what's that?" Tink asked.

  "Someone is using the Senator's foundation to launder money," Mia answered.

  "Just need to figure out who's doing it," Tex chimed in.

  "And who benefits," Tink added.

  Ben exhaled, and leaned against the long TV cabinet. "And whether or not the Senator has any idea what's going on."

  "Situation is definitely FUBAR, gents," Tex said. "I'll keep working on who or what CALICO actually is, and get back to you when I have something. Humps, take me off speakerphone. Someone here wants to talk with you."