by Dale Mayer
Kerrick
The Mavericks, Book 1
Dale Mayer
Books in This Series:
Kerrick, Book 1
Griffin, Book 2
Jax, Book 3
Beau, Book 4
Asher, Book 5
Ryker, Book 6
Miles, Book 7
Nico, Book 8
Keane, Book 9
Lennox, Book 10
Gavin, Book 11
Shane, Book 12
Table of Contents
Title Page
About This Book
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
Epilogue
About Griffin
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
What happens when the very men—trained to make the hard decisions—come up against the rules and regulations that hold them back from doing what needs to be done? They either stay and work within the constraints given to them or they walk away. Only now, for a select few, they have another option:
The Mavericks. A covert black ops team that steps up and break all the rules … but gets the job done.
Welcome to a new military romance series by USA Today best-selling author Dale Mayer. A series where you meet new friends in this raw and compelling look at the men who keep us safe every day from the darkness where they operate—and live—in the shadows … until someone special helps them step into the light.
On the precipice of change … Just not the way he’d expected …
Kerrick is tagged to join a new elite group, where he’d have more say and less rules on missions. Working mostly alone, he’s to track down a kidnapped victim suspected of being in England, and likely she’s not the only one. This is his kind of job; finding out a longtime friend is his backup makes this mission a go.
Amanda is snatched at the end of her workday while walking to her vehicle. Days later she wakes to find she’s imprisoned, alone in a small cement cell. One rotting meal a day is provided, and that is it. Once she realizes someone else is here–a young boy—she’s even more determined to escape. And to take him with her. Running into Kerrick wasn’t the plan …
Escaping is only one part of the puzzle as the truth drags them to Europe and beyond as they sort out how the two kidnappings are related, who’s behind it all and why … Before they are run aground and imprisoned all over again …
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Chapter 1
Kerrick Cassidy looked at the text message and frowned.
Meet at 1830.
He knew who the sender was, but he hadn’t heard from this guy in a long time. He had always been a bit on the raw side, a law unto himself, a maverick among humans. Kerrick had heard he’d gone into the military but had lost track of him. Was it the same friend? Kerrick’s phone ID’d the man’s name and number. Or rather, a version of his nickname.
Kerrick sent a quick message back. Where and why?
Waterside Pub. That pub—or dive—was just inside the San Diego city limits but still close to where Kerrick now stood in his apartment in Coronado. Waterside was more of a locals’ hangout, and one Kerrick knew well. As he thought about it, he realized it’s where he’d met this friend a long time ago. But there was no explanation as to the why part of the message. At that, he frowned, checking his watch. It was 5:35 p.m. now. He had no plans. He had enough time to make the meeting, even with Friday night traffic.
So, was that a coincidence, or was something else going on here? He sent his old friend an affirmative reply while standing and staring out the window of his small apartment. He was living on the Coronado base in standard base housing, but that was short-term. As in, very short-term. Like, … his entire military career was soon over. He was done with the navy. At least in the capacity he’d served.
He was at a crossroads in his life, one that he looked forward to but, at the same time, he’d given a lot of his best years to the navy. He’d been part of their elite group, but sometimes the people around you changed, and the people above you changed, and Kerrick had been chafing at the rules and the regulations for a long time. He was one of the more senior guys and knew that he should be moving on. Others had gone on to have life partners and families, rounding out their lives. Kerrick didn’t have either of those things to keep him grounded.
He used to, but that was a long time ago. He and his wife had been childhood sweethearts. He’d only been in the navy a couple years and hadn’t even made it to his elite group yet when she and their six-month-old daughter had been killed in a car accident. Some men hit the bottle; others managed to recover from life-changing events like that. In his case, Kerrick locked all the hurt inside and had faced the world, angrier, harder, and more determined to bury himself and all his pain in his work.
Kerrick stared at his phone, frowning, wondering if he should show up for this meet. He didn’t have any reason not to. The thing was, the longer he’d been in the service, the more Kerrick understood other men’s struggles with the regimented lifestyle. While Kerrick had taken solace in the rules and regulations, others had chafed at the restrictions. Kerrick had more of a get-along-with and do-the-job type of attitude. He’d been all about the team.
As the teams had expanded, and as the number of members in this elite group had totaled several thousand, the atmosphere had changed. It was great if you could stay in the group that you loved and with the men who you knew and trusted. But, when they left or were transferred, it became an ever-changing sea of faces. The status was changing too, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to have unknown guys, untested guys, guys ten years younger than him watching his back.
And he knew that they looked at him and worried that maybe Kerrick was past his prime. Just the thought of that angered him. No way he was washed-up. Not at thirty-four. But something was definitely different in his outlook now. And it went beyond the everlasting agony of losing his wife and child. It was another kind of ache in his soul. He wanted to do more; he wanted to go into foreign countries and take out the insurgents like they needed to be taken out.
But he was forever being held back by the politically correct actions as dictated by the brass above. And sometimes it really chafed to have men a long ways away make decisions about matters they couldn’t possibly comprehend, not without boots on the ground. Hell, even friendly fire was an issue on the bases. If the brass couldn’t handle the fights in their own bases, how were they deemed worthy to supervise any op in a foreign country?
He shook his head, grabbed his keys, and walked out. He locked the door behind him, feeling a sense of finality in the movement. Although he slept here, he didn’t really live here. He kept his civilian clothes to a minimum. He was always ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and he cared about nothing in that place. The memories of his wife and daughter were the only things that still mattered, and he kept those inside. Sure, he’d had relationships since losing them, but those quick hookups had been more for him to reconnect to the world and maybe to let off some steam and just to have a bit of fun every once in a while. His heart, however, was well-guarded.
Nobody walked away from an experience like his without some scars to show for it. And he had yet to find a way to manage those scars. And the physical scars on his body? Well, he didn’t give a crap about those. They were
beyond fixing and were so much a part of him that even he’d forgotten how he’d gotten a lot of them. And none of them bothered him, yet he knew it would bother other women. Not the females he tended to spend time with now. They couldn’t care less. They just wanted a good hard ride, and he was up for that any day.
But the softer side of a real relationship—with love, true love, like that special relationship he’d had with Aurora—that part he kept hidden. He was afraid his ability to give true love had died permanently with her but held out hope that one day he’d find himself responding emotionally to another woman.
When he walked into the pub five minutes early, he didn’t recognize anybody in the smoke-filled room. He ordered a draft off the bar and took it outside. He always preferred to be outside anyway. He found his friend sitting there, in the far corner on the patio, waiting for him and watching him approach. Kerrick studied him as he sat down. “The years haven’t been kind,” Kerrick said bluntly.
His friend smiled, shook his head, and said, “No, they haven’t been. Doesn’t look like they’ve been too kind to you either.”
Kerrick shrugged, still bristling at the idea that he might be past his prime, and said, “I’m doing fine.”
His friend nodded, and Kerrick stared at him.
“What name are you going by these days?” Kerrick asked.
His friend just smiled and said, “Call me Beta.”
Kerrick’s eyebrows rose. “As in, second in command, with a leader called Alpha above you?”
Beta chuckled and said, “There is a ladder. But I didn’t tell you that.”
“Sounds like you’re still a bit of a maverick.” Kerrick crossed his arms, not willing to give an inch to the man trying to read him intently. “Why am I here?”
“Maverick?” Beta rolled the word around on the tip of his tongue and smiled. “I like that. We can use that. Now as to why you are here – answer that question yourself. Why are you here?”
Kerrick frowned. Because, of course, that was exactly what he needed to know too. “Curiosity,” he said. “Trying to figure out the voice from the past.”
“Heard you were having some trouble.”
“Not really,” Kerrick said, reaching for his beer. He lifted it and sipped but never took his gaze off the man across him. “Just an interesting stage of life. Nothing I can’t handle though.”
“Do you care to handle it any longer?” Beta asked, leaning forward to study his buddy’s eyes.
“Not sure what that means,” Kerrick said in a calm tone. “Have you got a job for me? Because I’m no mercenary.”
A grin flashed, Beta’s white teeth lighting up the evening settling around them. It should have been a hot and sunny day in California, but, with overcast clouds, it wasn’t. A storm threatened on the horizon, adding an electric crackle to the air around them. Just the kind of weather that matched Kerrick’s mood.
“It would be government-sanctioned,” Beta said. “Black ops. Small teams on the ground. Mostly two working alone.”
Kerrick felt the shock waves rock through him. “You do know what I have been doing for the last decade, right?”
Beta nodded. “One of the topmost decorated Navy SEAL officers. I’m really proud of you.”
“Why?” Kerrick asked. “I never did quite understand the thing about getting medals for doing your damn job.”
Beta cracked a smile again. “Still the same old Kerrick. You have a set of honorable rules to live by that few men can match,” he said, leaning back casually as he picked up his own beer and drank.
Kerrick nodded. “Definitely have my own set of standards and my own honor system, and I’m loyal. Which is why I can’t ever do anything of a mercenary nature.”
“It’s got nothing to do with that,” Beta said calmly. “But I need to know if your heart’s still with the Navy SEALs or if you’re ready to take a step into something … different.”
“How different?”
Beta chuckled. “Maybe not very different at all. We’re talking two-man undercover missions, possibly larger teams as we recruit a few more men.”
“Who’s leading?”
“I am, from a distance,” Beta said. “But essentially you’re on your own.”
In spite of himself, Kerrick could feel the interest surging through him. He leaned forward, his hands gripping the tall beer glass. “How alone? For how long?”
“Only what you feel you need. You’re the boss of your mission.”
Kerrick’s eyebrows shot up. “Money?”
“Are you asking about money for your bank account or money available to do what’s needed to be done?”
“Both.”
“Got you covered. And more.”
At that sock to his gut, Kerrick stared at his friend. “How black ops?”
“It doesn’t get any darker than this.”
“Is this a brand-new US government department? Do we have a code name?”
“Definitely.” He grinned. “I just named it The Mavericks.”
Kerrick snorted at that. “So, no systems in place. You don’t know how it’ll work yet?”
“You’d be one of the first to implement it.”
“Even if I go in alone,” he said, “I still need some people to call on. I need intel. I need maybe a specialist here and there.”
Beta nodded. “And you will have backup, of course.”
Kerrick frowned at him. “Depends on who the backups are reporting to.”
A startled laugh erupted from Beta’s lips. “Yeah, the same old Kerrick. Always wanting to know who’ll report to whom and who’s over your head.”
“I want to make sure that nobody is reporting behind my back,” Kerrick said. “I want my people loyal to me, to the program, and to whoever is cutting our paychecks. But most of all, loyal to me while on a mission.”
“Understood.”
But Beta didn’t say anything else, so Kerrick wasn’t exactly sure just how much leeway he would have. He probed gently. “Budget?”
“Yes.”
“How big?”
“More than you can spend in this lifetime,” Beta said. And this time, there was no smile. He had settled in, just waiting to see what questions Kerrick would ask.
“I can have anything I need? Do you have the resources?”
“Interesting question.”
“Up until now I just walked into the armory and signed out what I needed.”
Beta’s smile still did not show up. He continued to stare at Kerrick steadily.
“Meaning, I can use my own suppliers?” Kerrick asked to clarify Beta’s silence.
Beta gave a shrug. “Nobody—and I mean nobody—in the military gets to know about this.”
“So, not the usual sources,” Kerrick said as he stared out into the landscape. “What about using civilians?”
“No details ever to be given.”
“Some of the civilians I know,” he said, “don’t need to ask questions to understand what’s going on.”
“Exactly. And, considering it’s your cover, and your ass, you might want to watch who you talk to.”
Kerrick had a few more questions, but it was kind of hard to sort out details when he didn’t know enough about his new employer or about what was expected from him to begin with. Typical government attitude. The navy trained them to obey and to not question. No matter how idiotic the order. And Kerrick had had more than a few of those. Luckily he had lived to complain about them. He understood that some of those follow-orders-without-thinking reflexes may be necessary when fighting a war, but, even then, Kerrick had to think there were other—and better—ways to do things. “Time frame?”
“Are you packed?”
“Always.” Kerrick gave a decisive nod, sucked in his breath, and settled back against his chair. He rapped his fingers on the table, waiting for Beta to say more. To say anything.
Beta smiled and said, “Then get some sleep. It’s only chatter now. We’re following a person of interest and
need more people lined up anyway. We’ll call you sometime in the next couple days.”
Behind him, a glass shattered on the concrete patio floor. Kerrick shifted to take a look. And, when he turned back, his friend had vaulted over the small porch railing, letting Kerrick catch a glimpse of Beta just as he disappeared around the corner of the building.
Kerrick sat here for a long moment, wondering what the hell he had just got himself into.
Chapter 2
Just shy of forty hours later, at 10:25 a.m. on Sunday, Kerrick got a phone call. Out of the blue, a strange robotic voice on the other end said, “It’s time,” and promptly hung up.
Ten minutes later Kerrick took a deep breath and stepped outside. No personal belongings were left here. He was no longer part of the Navy SEALs and was moving out of his austere base housing, even though the rent was paid through to the end of the month. But he doubted he would ever be back here to the base again. So, he’d taken care of business first. He didn’t say goodbye to anybody because he didn’t know if he would see them again and because he could see them one week later. For all he knew, this was a one-time job and nothing else. At the pub, he parked, walked inside, ordered a coffee, and headed out to the same table as before, where he found Beta waiting for him again.
Beta held a brown 9x13 envelope, gave it to him, and said, “You have just about enough time to drink that.”
Kerrick nodded, checked his watch—10:58 a.m.—took a long healthy swallow of his black coffee, and then asked, “Where am I going?”
“First job’s easy. You’re off to England.”
Kerrick smiled. “That’s almost like staying at home.”
“Not necessarily in this case,” Beta said. “Take care of the job, and we’ll talk afterward.”
And, just like that, he got up, walked back into the pub, and disappeared. Sitting outside alone, Kerrick swiftly emptied the folder and studied its contents. There was a photo of a beautiful young woman’s face, her name noted as Dr. Amanda Berg. He frowned at that, her name rattling somewhere around in the back of his brain.
