by J. M. Madden
Destruction
J.M. Madden
Copyright © 2018 by JM Madden
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Do not take part in piracy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Any logistical, technical, procedural or medical mistake in this book is truly my own.”
Cover by Octopi covers
Editing by MegEdits.com
Created with Vellum
A Note from the Author
The Dogs of War
If you haven’t read the prequel, Genesis, and book 1, Chaos, first, I STRONGLY suggest that you do. These books take place in a very short span of time and they are tightly woven together.
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Acknowledgments
I have to acknowledge my reader group. I love you guys! You make me so happy to be doing what I’m doing!
Family, you are awesome, of course.
Sandie, thank you for being the cheerleader that you are! You brighten my days!
Meg, excellent job, as always!
Sharon Griffin Woodside, there’s something in here for you. Let’s see if you notice it. Lol!
Band Boosters, you all rock! Don’t freak when you read the book!
Contents
Fontana
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Epilogue
Afterword
Also by J.M. Madden
About the Author
Fontana
Going back into the torture camp where he’d been so brutally abused is the last thing Navy SEAL Drake Fontana wants to do, but if there are other men being experimented upon he has to be the one to get them out. And he has to give them an option other than to be test subjects for the Silverstone Collaborative, the pharmaceutical company carrying out the diabolical experiments.
If he had his way, Fontana would go in alone, but he’s assigned a team of retired, disabled military from the Lost and Found group. They all have strengths, but he hates being responsible for their safety. The most vital of the team is Jordyn Madeira. Scarred, the woman has fire in her blood and her heart, and she has contacts in the Amazon he could never find on his own.
More than that, though, Jordyn holds an immediate, dangerous attraction for Fontana. As the team crosses the jungle finding research camps and searching for survivors, he realizes that she is what his heart has always been longing for. Home. But Fontana has always had to fight for everything he’s gotten in life, and Jordan’s damaged heart will be no different.
Chapter One
Fontana woke early, knowing that his life was going to go to hell today. Perhaps literally.
The thought of returning to the jungle chilled him to the bone, but he didn’t know any way around it. His life was the most fluid of the three remaining Dogs of War. Right this minute, he had the most freedom to go back to the camp to check for survivors.
As he blew out a slow breath, he tried to appreciate the irony, but it was hard. The camp where he’d been held prisoner for eight months, and where heinous things had been done to him, might hold other men right now, just as desperate to escape as he had been.
The four of them— Aiden, Wulfe, Rector and Fontana— had broken out almost two years ago, but he could remember the smell of the moist, loamy dirt beneath his bare feet, and the feel of the textured paint on the floor of his cell. He could remember the cold steel cuffs biting into his wrists and ankles as they abused him, knowing he was powerless to stop them.
Lifting his phone, he turned off the music app and unhooked the power cord, then pulled the earbuds from his ears. His ear canals flexed and relaxed. If he could come up with some other way to go to sleep, he would because he knew it wasn’t best for security, but it had to work for now. If the music was loud enough it would drown out the screams in his mind, and he had to have sleep. He’d been running almost constantly for the past few days as the Collaborative got closer to catching him.
Usually when he woke Aiden was already sitting at his computer console going over information, but he’d spent last night with Angela at her place. Fontana looked at his phone, wondering if Aiden had messaged them. Nope. Nothing. Wulfe was stretched on the couch, his long legs hanging over the edge and propped on the coffee table. His long arms were crossed over his broad chest and he slept with a frown on his face.
Fontana rolled up, stretching his back muscles. Normally he didn’t mind sleeping on the floor, but the past couple of nights he’d been restless. Too much crap going on. It would have been nice to sleep in an actual bed. Maybe he could have relaxed.
He rolled to his feet, his right leg aching like a son of a bitch. It took a minute to get it loosened up. He glanced out the window on his way to the bathroom. It wasn’t even dawn yet. His phone had said five-thirty on the dot, exactly what time he’d wanted to wake up. Their meeting at the Lost and Found offices wasn’t until seven, but he needed some time to build momentum today. He wanted to be wide awake and completely coherent when he walked into that meeting room.
He had a feeling he was going to have to fight today, and he wanted to be ready. No one was stopping him from going back to Brazil. If there were men in that jungle, he was going to make sure they got out.
Jordyn didn’t normally get nerves, but there was a different kind of energy in the building today. There was change in the air, heralded by the message from her boss Chad Lowell. He’d met her late last night when she’d come on station to change into her surveillance gear. He’d asked her some odd questions, but nothing she wasn’t willing to talk about, and after he’d left she’d been scratching her head in confusion. He’d explained that it was in relation to a new op they were planning, and not to be surprised if she got called in for another meeting in the morning.
At 6 am, just before she’d gone off shift, the big boss, Duncan Wilde, had requested her presence in the big meeting room. Jordyn knew she’d been doing a good job, but anxiety still rolled through her. It wasn’t very often that you got called in for meetings like this.
“No word on what it is?”
She looked at Drake Hardwick, also known as Zero, and shrugged. “I just know there’s been a lot of activity through here recently. Not sure what it has to do with my
mother’s service in the Venezuelan army, though. We don’t do out of country assignments, do we?”
Zero shrugged and scraped a hand over his nearly bald head, something he did often. The former SEAL had a few quirks, but he’d always given it to her straight up. Not that he had a whole lot more experience than she did at LNF. He’d been here six months, and she’d been here five. But she couldn’t recall any out of state assignments, let alone out of country.
“I’ve never heard of any, but the company has been in business going on ten years. I’m sure they’ve done more than the mundane stuff we’ve been assigned.”
Pulling his locker door open, he grabbed his tablet and truck keys, shoving them into his jeans pockets. It was a long drive to Colorado Springs where he lived with his new fiancée, and Jordyn knew he liked to listen to podcasts as he drove.
He shut the locker and turned to her, resting a hand on her tense shoulder. “Whatever it is, you’ll kick ass like you always do. If you need anything, let me know.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Zero.”
Jordyn watched his strong back as he left the locker room, the handle of his large Bowie knife breaking the line of his shirt. The man was a hoss, big and muscular, and an invaluable addition to the graveyard shift. Scary smart, as well he should be; he’d been in the SEALs for fifteen years before joining LNF last year and he’d automatically settled into an instructor-type mentality. Nothing shook him, and he moved like he had hours to do anything. But he got every job done more quickly and easily than expected.
When Jordyn had hired on, she’d been tightly wound and anxious, but working with Zero over the months had mellowed her, if that were possible. She was naturally a busy person anyway, but he’d made her slow down and do things more economically.
She glanced at the black waterproof watch on her wrist. Ten more minutes. Maybe she should wander that way early. Fuck, the meeting room was twenty feet away. It wasn’t like it would take her long to get there.
It just took her that long to gird herself for what was to come.
It had been four years since she’d been injured and left the Army. Four years of adapting to the changes on her face and body as the scars healed. Sometimes when she looked in the mirror she was taken aback, because she’d forgotten about it for just a moment in time. Then someone would do a double-take, or their mouth would drop open, and she’d remember all over again. When she met new people, she’d learned to just expect the horror-filled looks. It made it easier. The people that looked at her with acceptance in their eyes were few and far between.
Lost and Found was the first place where she didn’t feel like a side-show freak. There were other men here with injuries similar to her own, as well as other women vets, and they’d all found a place for themselves here.
The guys here were all good guys and she’d gotten used to their looks. But she also knew that right now there were other men around the office that didn’t work at LNF. And she’d heard through the grapevine that there was something big going on but no one had any details. It was just like the Army. Let the grunts run around in the dark while the top brass hoarded the flashlights.
She felt bad thinking that almost immediately. Duncan had been a better boss to her than that and she had no room to bitch. He’d made every accommodation to her needs he could, and she truly appreciated that.
It was just a hard transition; she’d liked the Army, the life of a soldier.
Staring at the clock, Jordyn counted down the time till there was less than a minute to get to the conference room. Straightening her black t-shirt in her BDUs, she strode down the hallway, then paused. She shook out her hands and knocked on the door. It was opened almost immediately by a tall, good-looking man with thick black hair and pale silver-blue eyes. Jordyn couldn’t remember ever seeing him before. Walking past him, she surveyed the room.
There were six men total in the room, counting the door man, and one woman, Shannon Palmer. She only knew three of the men— Duncan Wilde, Chad Lowell and John Palmer, the three partners of the Lost and Found Investigative service. The other three men she didn’t recognize, although one looked remarkably like John Palmer, with dark hair and dark eyes. There was also a startlingly handsome man sitting at the table, turned toward her. He had a thick head of golden curls and bright green eyes. There was brown stubble across his clamped jaw, like he hadn’t shaved in the past couple of days.
There was also a manic intensity in his eyes that put her on guard. She wasn’t sure what his deal was, but he looked like he was about to jump up and grab her and shake the crap out of her. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she circled the table toward the friendliest face.
Shannon smiled at her as she slid into the chair and some of Jordyn’s tension eased. Shannon had the kind of womanly personality that was built to nurture, and it wasn’t just from having the twins. It seemed completely innate, and Jordyn admired that.
Shannon’s energy was a nice buffer against everything else that was rolling toward her.
Chad caught her eye. “Thanks for coming in again, Jordyn. I hope we’re not disrupting your schedule too much.”
She shook her head, tucking her short hair behind her ear. “It’s not a problem at all. I am curious why I’m here though.”
Chad turned to look at Duncan, and the older man smiled at her, his brown eyes kind and watchful. “Chad tells me your mother was a helicopter pilot in Venezuela.”
Well, that took her by surprise. “Yes, she was. She was a national hero for several years after she rescued the sitting president and most of his cabinet during a violent coup. The presidente was very appreciative, both of her looks and her skill, and turned her into a spokeswoman for the bravery of his administration.”
“That must have been an interesting childhood,” John murmured, his dark, dark eyes looking for her reaction.
Jordyn shook her head. “I wasn’t even around then. It was many years before I was born here in the States.” She could see the question forming in John’s expression. “My mother fell in love with an American journalist and emigrated to the states decades ago, though she maintains dual citizenship, as do I.”
“Does your mother still fly?” Duncan asked.
“Every day. She owns a private charter company out of San Diego.”
The three partners shared a look, but it was Duncan who spoke. “Do you think she would be willing to fly an operation for us into the Amazon?”
Jordyn frowned, glancing at the faces along the table. If anything, the blond male’s aggression had ramped up. He almost seemed to be vibrating in his chair.
“What is this for?”
Duncan sighed, looking at the man who looked so similar to John Palmer. The man nodded as if giving permission and Duncan turned back to her.
“We’re planning a covert insertion into Guyana, Venezuela and Brazil to look for,” he hesitated, moving a hand, “prisoners of war.”
Jordyn scowled. “American?”
Duncan nodded, his expression grave. “American servicemen, as well as those from more than a dozen other countries, were forced to take part in an operation to create super soldiers, using a plant only found in the Amazon. Aiden, Wulfe and Fontana,” he pointed at each man individually, “all broke out of the Brazilian camp almost two years ago. They took vital information that the company needs to continue producing the serum.”
Jordyn held up a hand. “Wait. What company? I thought you said ‘government’?”
Duncan gave her a slight smile. “The Silverstone Collaborative has been working with the government, well, ours and others, for the past several years. We weren’t sure who exactly was involved until we had a final piece of information the men stole from the camp when they escaped. We’ve gone through the information and now know who is involved here stateside, as well as names of the servicemen roped into Project Spartan, as well as the locations of the other camps—there were three that we know of— where they were conducting the experiments.”
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br /> Jordyn shook her head, stunned. “Are you serious?”
“I am,” Duncan told her. “But we’re on a time crunch right now. We have a small amount of lead time and we want to take advantage of it. Right now the company has no idea that we know about the other camps. We want to insert a team into the jungle to check for survivors.”
Jordyn’s mind raced to catch up with what he was saying. “Are we expecting combat?”
Duncan glanced at Aiden, who shrugged. “We hope not,” the other man said, “but the teams are going to go in loaded for bear just in case.”
Her adrenaline spiked at the thought of direct action. She’d been a damn good soldier and the thought of taking part in this got her blood pumping. Even when she’d been in the Intelligence Bureau she’d been in places she probably shouldn’t have been. Arrangements would have to be made depending upon how long the operation went, but they couldn’t have asked her to do this at a better time.
Wait, they hadn’t asked for her. They’d asked for her mother.
“Well, my mother won’t be able to do it. She’s in Italy right now.”
The men looked at each other, frowning.
“When will she be back?”
That was from the guy on the end, the blond that seemed so tense. Rough and clipped, his voice grabbed her attention His fists were in front of him on the table, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.
