Dark Threat - A DARC Ops Christmas Novel

by Jamie Garrett

  He didn’t fucking care.

  Sam tried first to reason with him. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

  The magi was silent.

  “What is that?” Sam said, pointing to where he had been sitting. A stool next to a large box. “What were you doing there?” He took a step toward the box, moved one hand to slowly lift the lid.

  He felt someone’s arm around his throat, from behind, a strong pressure around his airway so that breathing was hard and noisy. He couldn’t say anything. He could barely move.

  And then he felt the smooth, cold blade of a knife against his flesh.

  “Move and I’ll kill you,” the man from behind said. But he couldn’t have moved if he’d wanted. “You stay right here.”

  Sam noted the North African accent. He noted how close he was to death. It was interesting, really, how sharply everything came into focus when facing your own death.

  The other magi moved back over to where he had been sitting, saying something in Arabic before putting his mask back on and doing something with that box.

  “What’s your friend doing over there?”

  “Shut up.” He was wearing his mask now, his voice was muffled.

  “What’s the mask for?” Sam asked.

  The knife slid harder against his throat.

  Was it worth having his neck slit open? He could try to struggle free and tackle the terrorist with the VX box. He could at least try. Even if he was wrong about the whole thing, how could he live with himself if he didn’t even try?

  He wasn’t wrong.

  His attacker, seeming to anticipate Sam’s last-ditch effort, wrapped his leg around Sam’s and leaned his weight onto him, the two of them crashing down on the top of the float. He pushed back, struggling against the other man, but the knife only pressed harder into his flesh.

  Jackson was there, preoccupied with the two other magi. He wasn’t going to be able to help Sam. He at least seemed to be getting somewhere with stopping them fiddling with the damn box, though. Thank God for that.

  The man shifted the knife against his skin. This current breath was likely to be his last. He’d never see Clara again, nor Molly. But in some way his actions had saved them. He was okay with that, okay with dying for them. Even if it was on a stupid parade float.

  But then his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of screaming, and the screeching of tires, and the loud, splintering crash of wood. The float rocked backward and was now tipping at a steep angle. Sam and the masked man tumbled down onto the street, the knife slipping away from his neck. Only a fraction—just enough for Sam to grab the other man’s wrist. Just enough for him to twist his arm, forcing the knife to clatter to the ground. Just enough for him to duck under and behind, pinning the wise man’s arm and pushing him to the ground.

  “Sam! Where’s the damn trigger?! These assholes don’t have anything on them.” Jackson’s voice bellowed from above, piercing any fog of relief. Still holding his wise man immobile with a knee in his back, Sam patted down his body with his free hand.

  “Tansy! Get the fuck over here and remove the detonator!”

  The cavalry had arrived. Or at least Tansy had. It would only be a matter of time before the area was swarming with Feds. Even those idiots couldn’t miss this. Of course, they’d want their slice of the action, and probably all of the credit. Sam didn’t care about any of that. All he cared about in that moment was the asshole currently trying to worm his way out from under him.

  There! Sam felt a small but solid lump sewn inside the man’s costume, a small seam already rigged to give way. He tugged and the device fell into his hand, just as Jackson jumped off the float and landed in front of them both. Sam held the device out, a grin forming on his face.

  Strangely, he could breathe again. He looked over at the cracked windshield of the car, his unexpected saving grace. Dave was slumped behind the wheel. As Sam stared, Dave sat up, slowly, as if waking from some gentle slumber. He gave Sam a little wave and then fell back again, a smile on his face.

  27

  Clara

  The elevator doors shut and they were alone again, briefly. Through the last few days they’d only had little snippets of privacy. Small blocks of time, minutes, between the all the questions and scrutiny of the investigation. When their elevator stopped and when its doors opened up to the sixth floor of the District Attorney’s building, they would be back in the bright lights.

  After all the mess at the parade, she and Sam had been separated for hours. Despite nothing actually being released—and Clara thanked God every day since for that—those with badges who eventually arrived insisted on the entire DARC Ops crew following them for decontamination, and then a long debriefing. It was apparently nothing new to Sam, being tied up for hours with government agencies, but it frustrated the hell out of Clara. Especially when she found out every piece of Sam’s clothing was removed and destroyed, him being scrubbed down in some fancy-ass shower before being given scrubs to wear back to the hotel. He had even looked sexy in the thin, baggy material, his hair disheveled from running his hand through it way too many times. It was often the only outward sign of frustration Sam ever showed. She was learning to read him, though, and soon she’d know him better than anyone.

  He had his arm around her tonight, their sides pressed up. Clara wanted more—always wanted more—but the elevator was slowing down.

  He rested his hand at the small of her back. “Are you ready for this?”

  “I can’t wait,” she said. “Just one last interview and then we get on with our lives.” The doors slid open and they stepped out, walking side by side down the hall. “How about you?” she asked. “Are you nervous about not having your trusty legal counsel?”

  Dave had gone back into the art of private practice. And Sam would be his first client, accompanying him to all the meetings just to “keep an eye on things.” But Dave had some problems of his own to worry about.

  “I’m not nearly as nervous as I am about him,” Sam said. “This morning he has to be his own lawyer.”

  Dave had been charged with a DUI on top of a handful of reckless driving charges. It was the cost of being a national hero.

  “Is he still famous?” she asked.

  “Famous enough to get fired from A&M.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Happened this morning. But don’t feel too bad for him. He’s still getting 24/7 calls from the media. Calls for him to fly out to LA to be on TV shows. It’s crazy. He’s got people sending him money.”

  Dave, the drunken hero, had turned into an overnight sensation, while Sam and his DARC Ops men fell quietly back into the shadows. According to Sam, that was the way they wanted it. Apparently, in his line of business, it wasn’t good to have too much attention.

  At first that meant Clara’s attention. For her supposed protection, he had downplayed his DARC Ops work to the point of lying. He hadn’t wanted her to worry, he’d said. She could understand his motivations, why he hadn’t told her what he was really doing there at the parade, but he’d been swiftly informed he was never doing that again.

  Now it was her turn for some misdirection.

  “Here we go,” he said, knocking on the door.

  Her hand slipped into his while they waited. When the door opened, she felt a hard squeeze.

  “What the hell?”

  Instead of just another nameless bureaucrat staring back at them, it was Jackson’s warm grin. “Hey, guys. Come on in.”

  They walked in, submerging themselves in the cheers of his brothers in arms, the other DARC men.

  “Surprise,” Clara said after he’d spun around to look at the boardroom full of yuletide friends and decorations.

  “What is this?”

  “An early Christmas party,” Jackson said. “Most of us have to fly back tomorrow.”

  They had the conference room strung with banners and little blinking Christmas lights. There was even a fake tree in the corner, which had given Molly and Bren someth
ing to do throughout the day, the two of them coming away from the tree now with sparkles all on their faces and arms.

  “A tree with sparkles,” Bren said with disgust. “Look at all this crap.”

  “Look!” Molly held out her arms, “Aren’t I so pretty?”

  Yes, she was so pretty. Clara grabbed her into a big hug.

  “Mommy,” she said, pulling away. “What’s eggnog?”

  “Something gross that only adults like.”

  “Like coffee?”

  Sam smiled. “Please tell me there’s lots and lots of booze in that eggnog.”

  “There is,” came a voice from behind them. “And thank God.”

  “Matthias,” Sam said, shaking the man’s hand and then introducing Clara.

  “And I’d like to introduce the latest addition to DARC,” Matthias said, reaching out and pulling over a young lady by the hand. “This is Laurel.”

  She seemed a little shy, smiling politely and nodding to Clara. “Your daughter is adorable,” she said before winking at Molly.

  Matthias looked at her with admiration. “Sam wanted me to show you an example of what moving to D.C. could be like. We’ve got her mother out there, and Laurel’s working away in our hack lab. Most importantly, we’re together.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Laurel said. “Depending on the day.”

  Clara laughed and then raised her eyebrows at Sam. “You sure you want that kind of exposure?”

  “It’s no secret he wants you there,” Matthias said.

  “But to do what? Type?”

  “I actually just had a conversation with Jackson,” Sam said.

  “Who’s talking about me?” Jackson said, walking up to her and Sam, one of his arms around the waist of an attractive, tall blonde. Mira, Sam had told her. She’d gotten a crash course on everyone’s names that morning.

  “Should I tell them the news?” Sam said.

  Clara turned to him. “What news?”

  Sam said, “Jackson and I talked, and we’ve come to an agreement. I’ll be staying in New Orleans.”

  “Yep,” Jackson said. “I learned from what happened here that he can occasionally be right about things. Plus, I can’t fire the guy on Christmas.” Sam rolled his eyes.

  Clara turned to Sam. “You’re staying?”

  “I’m the new Southern contact for DARC Ops. And whatever I can’t do remotely, I can always fly up to the capitol.”

  “That’s amazing,” Clara said, staring at him as if he was the only one in the room. She was amazed he could keep the secret all day. It was a day of both of them holding on to surprises. And though they were good surprises, she hoped they were the last for a while. She needed their lives to be nice and boring for a while.

  “An early Christmas gift.” Sam said.

  “But what about your college?”

  “I’m transferring to Gulf A&M.”

  “You know I wasn’t ever moving up to D.C.,” she said, feeling Molly against her legs. “But I thought you were burned out with teaching.”

  “I was burned out on a lot of things before you came around,” Sam said, pointing up at something on the ceiling. “Burned out on life.”

  “What is that?” Clara asked, looking at what looked like twigs and baby spinach suspended in string.

  “Mistletoe,” Sam said, leaning down to kiss her.

  “Hey,” cried Molly, injecting herself between their bodies as they came together.

  Clara said, “I hope you don’t get burned out on this little elf down here.”

  From below: “Can Santa get me a puppy?”

  “A toy one?”

  “A real one.”

  “Honey, his elves can’t make real ones.”

  After Molly ran away in defiance, Clara looked back at Sam, her head leaning back as she stood up on the tips of her toes. His face nearing close, his eyes closing, his lips on hers. She closed her eyes and they were alone in the room.

  Thank you so much for reading Clara and Sam’s story. Click here to be the first to know when the next DARC Ops books is published.

  Also by Jamie Garrett

  Marked By Desire - Romantic Suspense Series

  Books 1 - 5

  The Dreamcatchers Series

  Emily

  Keila

  Payton

  Lainey

  Sienna (coming soon!)

  DARC Ops Series

  Darkest Hour (0.5)

  Dark Secret

  Dark Web

  Dark Heart

  Dark Control

  Dark Threat

  Riley Reid Mystery Series

  Books 1 - 3 (first book free!)

  Acknowledgments

  A huge thank you to you—all my readers, subscribers, and social media followers. Thank you for choosing to read my books!

  Thank you to my ARC team, for all your support. You’re all amazing!

  Lisa, Adele, and all the badass babes. You make my day on a regular basis. Thank you!

  A special thanks also to Anette King and Kristine Piiparinen, for all that you do. You are both incredible ladies.

  Come and hang out with me, plus authors Lisa Ladew and Adele Huxley, along with the fabulous badass babes in our Facebook romance group, Books, Babes, and Badasses. We talk about anything and everything, and there’s plenty of yummy eye candy too. Stop by and say hello anytime! You can also subscribe to my newsletter, send me an email, find me on Facebook, or visit my website.

  About the Author

  Hi, I’m Jamie. I live with my husband, two beautiful children and three cats. I loves to read almost as much as I loves to write, and can’t imagine anything better than getting to be an author and writing every day. There is at least one cat draped over the keyboard at all times.

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