by Vonnie Davis
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Desiree Holt. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Omega Team remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Desiree Holt, or their affiliates or licensors.
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OMEGA TEAM
HELLBENT ON SAVING HER
By Vonnie Davis
Dear Readers,
I’m doubly thrilled about writing this story as part of the fabulous Omega Team. First, I’m thrilled to be working with Desiree Holt. Everyone loves her—and there’s a reason why. She’s a positive, dynamic, charming force.
Secondly, I’m excited for those of you who’ve read my Black Eagle Ops series. Everyone kept asking for former SEAL Commander Zane Quinlan’s romance. You see, he was married to the Navy, then his parents’ ranch while his dad was dying of cancer, and now his black ops team. Only one woman ever captured his heart, but they lost touch when his team was shipped out to Afghanistan. Afterward, serving his country in any capacity, helping his former men heal from PTSD, and keeping the family’s ranch going consumed him. His nighttime dreams, though, were filled with images of one special tawny-haired woman and a passionate relationship long gone.
Enjoy this story and ALL of the Omega Team stories. We write for you, you know.
Fondly,
Vonnie Davis
CHAPTER ONE
Zane Quinlan sipped his favorite single malt whiskey as he finished a report to his handler at the CIA. Last week his black ops team had disbanded a homegrown terrorist cell in the outskirts of Chicago. Although he’d spoken to his senior advisor over secure phone lines about how things had gone down, these annoying paper details were still required to arrive in Langley by military courier, securely sealed within two days after mission’s end.
A retired SEAL team commander, Zane knew and had worked with the best. Now, some of those warriors were working for him in a clandestine capacity with the blessing and financial backing of the CIA.
Black Eagle Ops was home based on Eagle Ridge Ranch in the Hill Country of Texas. Steers, horses, and highly-trained operatives were what Zane, better known to most folks as ZQ, had on the twenty-two-thousand acre spread that had been in his family for generations. There was also an underground bunker of weapons and ammo. Plus a mighty fine helicopter kept hidden under high-tech camouflage on the other side of a hill beside the house. Life was good for this former frogman with seawater and ranch dust in his veins.
His cell rang and an old friend’s picture appeared on the screen. Grey Holden, top notch at most everything he accomplished in the military, was now head of a mercenary squad, the Omega Team.
“Hey, Grey ol’ buddy, tell me why I’m talking to your ugly ass and not Athena’s pretty face?”
“Yeah, I fuckin’ love you too, ZQ. Got a situation. Need your help.”
ZQ straightened in his chair and sipped more of his whiskey. “Whatever you need, pal. You know that.”
“I’m emailing your private email with the details. Respond to the sender’s address, not mine. Just wanted you to be on the lookout. Later.” The line went dead. ZQ opened his private email account and waited. Nance, once the SEAL team’s dog, retired after having an ear shot off in Syria, traipsed into ZQ’s office. She rested her chin on his thigh.
He rubbed her furry head. “What ya need, baby girl? You in the mood for a rawhide chew and your owner’s asleep in the recliner again?”
Nance, short for Ordinance, whined and wiggled her back end.
“Come on. The boss’ll take care of ya.” He stood and headed for the kitchen, past his mom and JJ, Nance’s owner and trainer. Both asleep in recliners as the eleven o’clock news droned on. ZQ opened the back door for the dog to take a quick pee run while he grabbed a chew for her and some of Mom’s homemade snicker doodles for himself. He also snatched an apple from the bowl she kept on the counter for him.
Nance ran back inside and took her snack from ZQ’s fingertips. She followed him into his office, her eyes on his cookies. “Don’t get any ideas about my snicker doodles. You know they’re my favorite. I swear you’d eat anything but lima beans and hot wings. Let’s see if we got Grey’s email.”
It was waiting on him. ZQ snorted at the email address: CandyCaneLuvs2Lick. Yeah, no one would suspect the owner of said address was an expert marksman. He stuffed a cookie in his mouth as he read.
ZQ…Athena’s best friend, Ivy Rosemoor, is missing. No one knows where she is. Believe me, Athena’s used all her former cop contacts to gather intel. Ivy is one of the Assistant District Attorneys here in Tampa. The two grew close over their desire to rid the streets of drug dealers. Most of my team is out on another mission and can’t help with this.
My woman is frantic. You know how impetuous Athena can be over people she cares about. I need your assistance ASAP. If you have some men to spare, that would be great. We’ll also need your helo. We suspect Ivy’s been taken to Cartagena in Columbia since she was working on a drug trafficking case against a cartel there. If you can come, I’ll have more info for you. Grey
Holy shit! He knew Grey’s lady well enough to know she was hardcore. She barely knew the meaning of the word “fear.” If she was this upset, this missing woman must be a very good friend. ZQ understood that kind of loyalty and protectiveness. He had a brotherhood of SEALs he’d die for.
He bit into the apple, savoring its crisp juiciness, slid his cursor on the Reply icon, and began a response. Pausing, he gave thought to asking his CIA handler’s permission first but, hell, he was helping his friends with or without the Admiral’s go-ahead. He’d call him after he emailed Grey.
Absolutely. Will take off tomorrow morning. ETA noon. Will bring along a former SEAL sniper with too many kills to count, one stone-cold motherfucker, a robotic fighting machine with big feet and an even bigger mouth, a combo explosives expert, medic and K-9 handler, and one of the smartest dogs you’ve ever met. The bird will be loaded with weapons, ammo, RPG’s and whatever toys we feel we might need. Require secret landing spot with no security checks. Have 2 vehicles waiting. Tell Athena, we’re glad to help.
The last bite of the apple gone, he lobbed it into the trash can and reached for a snicker doodle. There was nothing there. He eyed the stiff back of Nance, her ears laid flat. “I know you didn’t just eat my favorite cookies.” The German shepherd looked at him over her shoulder and whined. “I thought you and me were buddies. You cookie thief, you.” Nance licked his hand; her way of asking for forgiveness—something he never refused.
ZQ used his secure line to call his handler.
A menacing voice barked, “This better be damned good. I’m ready to crawl into bed with my gorgeous wife.”
“Sorry my timing’s bad. Look, I made a commitment on a mission I need your authorization for.”
The Old Man grunted. “Using the ‘better to ask for forgiveness than permission adage,’ are you? I’ve used it a few times myself. What’s up?”
ZQ filled him in. The Admiral acknowledged hearing about the Omega Team. “Does Grey know who you’re attached to at the CIA?”
ZQ hadn’t mentioned his friend’s name, only the team’s. Had the Old Man reached out to Grey and Athena for help with prior situations? Something was always going on in this crazy world; it wouldn’t surprise him if he had. “No. That’s confidential. You know I’m a tight-lipped bastard.”
&
nbsp; “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? We need to get that Assistant D.A. recovered and if you can knock out part of a drug cartel in the process, excellent. I’ll expect a full report when you get back.”
“Yes, sir.” He ended the call.
Now that he had permission, ZQ called Dust, one of the finest snipers ever to serve, and put him on alert. Next was Titan, his fighting robot who never seemed to get tired. Then he dialed Steelhead, one fearless warrior. With those three lined up, he stalked out to the living room to wake JJ—pilot, medic, demolitions expert and Nance’s handler. One of those all round specialists ZQ always wanted at his back.
One squeeze of JJ’s shoulder had him awake. “Whatzup?” JJ rubbed his dark eyes with the heels of his hands.
“We leave on an operation in the morning. Helping an old friend of mine. I’ll need all your talents and Nance. Wheels up at oh-seven-hundred for Tampa and then Cartagena probably the next day. Extracting a woman held hostage by some really bad scum.”
The pup was no dummy. She barked once and leapt into JJ’s arms, licking his cocoa face as if to tell him she was ready to report for duty.
“Yes, girl. You’re going, too. Come on, let’s go check my medical gear and chose my explosives. I’ll go over the Black Hawk in the morning with you, ZQ, since we both handle maintenance. We’ll have to refuel partway to Tampa.” He tapped his fingers on the side of his leg. “Let’s get ready to work, Nance.”
The proud German shepherd pranced beside her owner.
Ashley, a former Naval translator, rose from her napping spot on the sofa. “I’ll help you Jerryl. There are a couple things you might need if it’s a woman who’s in trouble.” She smoothed her blonde hair as she followed him out. More and more, she was becoming JJ’s shadow. ZQ was pleased to see the growth in their relationship.
His mother, who’d woken during their conversation, stood and stretched. “How many will I be cooking breakfast for?”
“Dust, Titan, Steelhead, JJ, and me. Make a bag of treats for Nance.”
She nodded. “I’ll get some pork chops out of the freezer and peel potatoes. Stick them both in the refrigerator before I go to bed.”
“What? None of your fried apples, syrupy with brown sugar and cinnamon?” ZQ slung his arm around her shoulders.
“Hunh, what woman spoiled you this badly?” The corners of her lips twitched into a smile. She had a fashion for wearing lipstick to match her tops. Today, she’d worn a black and white swirl t-shirt and black lipstick.
He kissed her temple. “I was spoiled by the best.”
“Yeah, well I need grandchildren to spoil now while I can still move to do it. I’m getting old and stiff—”
“You’re preaching to the choir, Mom. My getting married ain’t gonna happen.” There’d only been one woman in his life he’d ever thought of marrying, but that relationship was long over—and he still dreamed about his sweet Rose most every night.
His mom hip bumped him. “Bet me! I’ve had my prayer group working double time on your stubborn ass. We have a conference call every morning at ten and pray long and loud for you.”
He expelled a long, loud groan. “Mom, give it up.”
CHAPTER TWO
The sun announced the arrival of another day with her pink and golden rays brightening the grays of pre-dawn. ZQ and JJ pushed wagons of explosives and ammo to the helicopter. Steelhead was behind them with an armful of AK-47’s. Titan carried a box of helmets equipped with infra-red night goggles and high-tech communication gear. They were loading the bird.
Dust’s gray Mustang kicked up a cloud of dirt as it barreled in the long lane to the ranch house. He parked next to Titan’s classic ’68 Corvette Stingray. Titan scowled. “He better not have scratched my car.”
“Hell, man, he’s fifteen feet away from it.” ZQ whistled to get Dust’s attention. “Park closer to that piece of shit ՚Vette.”
“Don’t you get me started. You know how I take care of that classic.” His freckled face scrunched up even more.
Steelhead was laughing. “Why don’t you buy a pickup to drive around in, especially when you come here to play with the real men?”
JJ elbowed Steelhead. “Better yet, a compact. Easier on fuel. You know he needs all his change for that gel he puts in his hair.”
Titan ran a beefy hand acrosss his stiff red curls. “A compact? Can you see this impressive body squeezed into a fuckin’ compact?” His voice rose with righteous indignation.
“Oh God, the poor vehicle would tip on two wheels and try to run that way once your lard ass got in it.” JJ pivoted and slapped a palm to the side of the black hawk, as he hooted in laughter.
“Yeah, well you can kiss this lard ass, you bald sombitch. Ever since ZQ’s mom raved about how much you look like Shemar Moore with your head shaved and that bitty mustache, we haven’t seen a bit of your ՚fro.”
JJ ran a hand over his head. “What can I say? Ashley likes it and that’s all that matters.”
Steelhead stopped what he was doing and stared at JJ. “Are you two getting closer? Is she overcoming her PTS enough to open up to you?”
“It’s slow, brother. I want her, so I can’t rush her after the hell she went through in Syria.”
Dressed in a tan t-shirt and camo pants like the other guys, Dust jogged toward them carrying a duffle bag. His mobility with his prosthetic leg had improved drastically. ZQ remembered the day he’d brought the young man home from the Navy Medical Center with a dose of self-pity bigger than the storage compartment of this aircraft.
ZQ’s gaze swept over the land he loved and knew so well. Hills and rangeland that had been in his family for generations. He was proud of that. This ranch had become a healing place. He was damn proud of that, too. Some former military had traveled on once they were ready to face the real world. A few stayed on the ranch and worked. Others found homes in the nearby close knit community of Warrior Falls. But all of them had regained a part of their soul here.
So many service personnel needed quiet places like this for the therapy of working with animals and healing in a small town environment. Less noise, less congestion, less stress to hurry.
JJ, a man of color, was the first to arrive at Eagle Ridge Ranch. He’d rolled in on an old Harley with Nance riding in a sidecar, wearing a helmet pretty as you please.
Dust came straight from the medical center, hobbling on his prosthetic leg, using a crutch and asshole deep in self-pity until he met the woman who would become his wife. He was an architect with a snarky sense of humor.
Steelhead wouldn’t even talk when he finally showed up. At the time his dark blond hair was shaggy and so was his beard and mustache. Now he wore his hair almost to his collar with his mustache and beard closely trimmed. After a lot of fighting, he was finally using his prosthetic arm. He’d worked hard to get his fingers to work independently. He’d married his physical therapist, Gina, who took care of all the folks at Eagle Ridge, including ZQ’s mom’s arthritis.
Red-haired Titan handled his internal scars better than most. He tried exercising his demons away by driving like the hounds of hell were on his tailpipe.
All of them and more were ZQ’s brothers-in-arms. He could cuss them out one minute and laugh with them the next. But he’d take a bullet for them without a second thought. And that included Ashley who was like a sister to everyone, except JJ. She’d been a mess when ZQ brought her here; she acted out because she was afraid of everyone, especially if that person was a man. Her healing was taking a long time.
Nance was sniffing and whining around the boxes.
“What’s up with her?” Dust tossed his bag in the back.
JJ put his hands on his hips. “Baby girl wants her vest on. She knows she’s going to work and wants her uniform.” He pushed aside some items and retrieved Nance’s K9 Storm Body Armour.
Once Nance had her Kevlar vest on, she pranced around proudly. She went to ZQ first, knowing he was the boss of this outfit.
“A-tten-t
ion!” he yelled and she stood firm and proud, ears pointed, tail erect. ZQ wanted to laugh. God, he loved this dog. He stepped around her, tugging on her vest here and there for effect. She never moved nor made a sound. “At ease. Get to work with JJ.” She licked ZQ’s hand once and leapt into his arms.
“We didn’t take her along when we did rescue work during the flooding of Hurricane Harvey and again for the aftermath of Irma. I don’t think she’s got over the two times we were gone without her.” Dust petted the dog. “You’re going with us today, aren’t you, Nance?” She jumped into Dust’s arms and whined.
Her handler, JJ, had evidently had enough. ZQ knew he was fairly strict on being Nance’s alpha. He tapped the side of his leg and commanded her to heel. She obeyed and he slipped her a treat.
ZQ stood straight and folded his arms. “I couldn’t tell you men everything on the phone last night. So I’ll fill you in now. An old military buddy of mine, Grey Holden and his girlfriend, ex-cop Athena Madero, run a mercenary group called the Omega Team. Most of their men are out on a mission which is why they’ve asked for our assistance.”
A collective “Hoo-rah” rose from the four men.
“Athena’s best friend, Ivy Rosemoor, an Assistant District Attorney is missing. She was hot on the trail of leaders of a drug cartel. Grey and Athena are afraid Ivy’s been taken to Cartagena.”
“If she’s not already dead,” Steelhead added.
ZQ nodded. “Yeah, that makes more sense to me. Why drag her down there? Grey said he’d have more info us when we get to Tampa. I’m figuring they’ve turned up something.”
The helicopter was full and ready for liftoff at the time ZQ ordered. His mother sent along three warm apple pies and two jars of homemade plum jam for Athena. A bag of apples were shoved in her son’s hand. She stood at the open door, the revolving blades whipping at her white hair and issued orders through blue lipstick that matched her blue robe. “Three damn whole pies better make it to Tampa or I won’t bake another thing for the men in this helicopter.”
