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Unpredictable Risk (R.I.S.C. Book 5)

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by Anna Blakely




  “Unpredictable Risk”

  R.I.S.C. Series

  Book 5

  By: Anna Blakely

  Unpredictable Risk

  R.I.S.C. Series 5

  First Edition

  Copyright © 2019 Anna Blakely

  All rights reserved.

  All cover art and logo Copyright © 2019

  Publisher: Anna Blakely

  Cover by Lori Jackson Design

  Content Editing by Trenda London

  Copy Editing by Tracy Roelle

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, and places portrayed in this book are entirely products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.00.

  If you find any eBooks being sold or shared illegally, please contact the author at anna@annablakelycom.

  Contents

  “Unpredictable Risk”

  Other Books by Anna Blakely

  DEDICATION

  Prologue

  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

  Epilogue

  Want to read more from Ms. Blakely’s R.I.S.C. Series?

  Rescuing Gracelynn Blurb

  Excerpt from Rescuing Gracelynn

  Want to connect with Anna?

  Other Books by Anna Blakely

  R.I.S.C. SERIES:

  Taking A Risk, Part One

  Taking A Risk, Part Two

  Beautiful Risk

  Intentional Risk

  R.I.S.C. Bravo Team Series

  (Special Forces: Operation Alpha World)

  Rescuing Gracelynn

  DEDICATION

  To my ARC team. Thank you SO much for all you do to help make these stories the best they can be. Y’all are truly the best!

  Prologue

  Afghanistan, Six Years Ago...

  “It’s gonna disintegrate, you keep lookin’ at it all the time.”

  Staff Sergeant Jordan Wright glanced away from the tiny picture in his hand, his smile reaching his eyes. “You’re probably right, Briggs.” He shrugged. “Can’t help it.”

  Strands of her short, blonde hair peeked out from beneath her helmet as the young petty officer shook her head. “I swear, every time I see you lately, you’re staring down at that thing.”

  “That thing is my son.” Wright looked down at the black and white image again. Beaming with pride, he ran his gloved thumb over the once-smooth photo. “Jordan Charles, Junior will be here in a little over two months. Still can’t believe our tour will be completed in time for his birth.”

  “Careful, Sir. Don’t want to jinx yourself. You never know what could happen between now and then. After all, this is the Army.”

  “No, shit,” their driver, Master Sergeant Owens, chuckled from behind the wheel. “Good thing you’ve learned that lesson early on, Briggs. Just make sure you don’t forget it.”

  The higher-ranking officer was their escort, as was typical for a ground convoy of this nature. Though theirs was smaller than most, the rough terrain the squad was traveling through had seen a lot of action recently. And none of it was good.

  Today, Jordan and the others were making the nearly hundred-mile trek from their base at Bagram to Phoenix, a U.S. Army base located in the Kunar province. The area had finally been liberated from ISIS. With the United States’ help, its people were making great strides to rebuild what was once thought to be doomed.

  Jordan’s squad was split up between three cargo trucks. Five were riding in the Deuce-and-a-half in front of them, another five in the truck behind them, and the M36 carrying Jordan, Owens, and Briggs was sandwiched in the middle.

  “I don’t know how your wife does it, Staff Sergeant.”

  “What do you mean?” Jordan asked Briggs.

  “Having to take care of everything back home while you’re over here for months on end.”

  Jordan grinned. “Stacey’s a saint, that’s for sure.”

  The woman snorted. “She must be.”

  “What’s the matter, Briggs?” Owens asked. “Don’t you and your new husband want kids?”

  “Sure, I guess. Someday.” She looked out at the sharp, rugged mountains surrounding them. “We’ve talked about it, but we’ve been married for less than a year. I’m thinkin’ maybe once I’ve done a few more tours.”

  “Why wait so long?” Jordan asked.

  Briggs rolled her pretty eyes. “I’m only twenty-four, Wright. We have plenty of time. Plus, I’m pretty sure Corban would have himself committed if he had to be a stay-at-home dad. I love my husband dearly, but he’s too much of a busy-body.”

  “Oh, he’d be busy, all right.” Their Master Chief smirked. “But, there’s nothing better in the world than raising a child. Hard as hell sometimes, but still the most rewarding thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

  “That’s saying a lot for a man like you, Master Chief,” Jordan commented, knowing all Owens had done in his military career.

  “It’s the truth. Of course, like you, I couldn’t have accomplished half the stuff I’ve done if it weren’t for the unwavering support of my wife.” The middle-aged man grinned. “My Bree is the sweetest, most patient woman in the world.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, Master Chief”—Briggs slid a glance his way—“how many children do you and Mrs. Owens have?”

  “Four.” Their leader’s smile grew wider. “Plus, seven grandchildren and another one due next spring.”

  In his mid-fifties, Owens had salt-and-pepper hair and a few well-earned wrinkles. He was one of the best military leaders Jordan had ever had the pleasure of working with.

  Briggs’ brows rose at that. “Wow.”

  “Yep. Wasn’t always easy. But you just wait and see. There’s no love like the one you feel the moment you meet your child for the first time. Doesn’t matter if it’s your first or your fourth. The love just grows and grows. Ain’t that so, Wright?”

  “Yes, sir.” Jordan looked down at the ultrasound image of his unborn son again. “Heck, I already love this little guy, and he’s still cookin’.”

  “Cooking?” Briggs laughed.

  “Well, what would you call it?”

  “Uh...” the young woman thought for a moment. “You know what? Cooking works pretty well, I guess.”

  All three laughed as they followed the truck in front of them onto a three-arched, concrete bridge.

  “God, I hate these things.”

  Jordan glanced over Briggs. “You’re kidding. You’ve been over here in the thick of war, and you’re worried about a bridge
? Aren’t you from California? That place is loaded with them.”

  “Do you know what an earthquake could do to a bridge like this one?”

  “You been in one before? An earthquake, I mean?”

  “Sure. You live in California long enough, you’re bound to. I’ve never been in a bad one, but I grew up seeing them on the news and in pictures. Whole freeway overpasses collapsing, crushing the cars beneath them or dumping the ones driving on them over the edge. The school I went to had monthly earthquake drills. Used to give me nightmares just thinking about that sort of thing happening to me and my parents.”

  “Well, you can relax, Petty Officer,” Owens assured her. “This part of the country isn’t really known for its earthquakes.”

  “I’m just ready to get this stuff to Phoenix and get back,” Briggs brushed her fears away.

  “Yeah?” Jordan glanced over at her before putting his eyes back on the road in front of them. “Why’s that?”

  “Corban and I have a dinner date scheduled.”

  Jordan smiled. “Thank God for Skype, right?”

  “Hooah, Staff Sergeant.”

  “Hooah,” Owens and Briggs repeated in unison.

  All three occupants laughed together as they continued driving slowly across the extended structure. Almost to the middle of the bridge now, Jordan glanced out his window to the river below.

  It was more like a large creek, but the distance from them to the water was enough to make even him a little nervous.

  He’d just put the ultrasound picture back into his chest pocket when the truck jerked as though it had hit something.

  What the hell? He looked at Owens. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know.” The other man looked up into the rearview mirror. “I didn’t see anything on the road.”

  “Oh, shit,” Briggs exclaimed breathlessly. “Look.”

  Jordan’s eyes moved to where her finger was pointing. He couldn’t believe what he saw.

  “The b-bridge,” Briggs barely stuttered out. “I-it’s going to collapse!”

  Horrified, Jordan watched as the portion of the road beneath the Deuce-and-a-half in front of them began to crack and tip sideways. Seconds later, the concrete slab broke completely away from the rest of the bridge and fell, taking the truck and its five occupants with it.

  “No!” Briggs screamed. She began to cry.

  At this height, there was no doubt the men in that truck had just fallen to their deaths.

  “Reverse! Reverse! Reverse!” Jordan yelled at Owens to back up.

  Owens slammed the truck into reverse and pushed the gas pedal down to the floorboard. The truck behind them did the same, both vehicles making a few feet back toward safety. But it was already too late.

  Jordan and the others felt the portion of the bridge both trucks were on beginning to sway. Briggs screamed again as they were jerked back and forth.

  Left...Right...Forward.

  “Oh, my god,” Master Chief stated, his tone knowing. The formidable man began reciting the Lord’s Prayer just as the bridge beneath their spinning tires gave way.

  Much like the time his friends talked him into riding his first roller coaster, Jordan’s stomach flew into his throat. Briggs screamed again, shouting for her husband and saying she didn’t want to die. Owens prayed louder, and Jordan braced himself as best he could.

  The vehicle tipped mid-air, water and rocks rushing toward them at a deadly speed. In the seconds that followed, Jordan was both astonished and heartbroken as everything seemed to move in slow motion.

  Scenes from his thirty-two years began flashing through his mind.

  His mother’s loving kisses and hugs. His father teaching him how to fish. The moment he saw his beloved wife for the very first time. Watching her walk toward him in a flowing, white gown.

  He could still hear the words, “I’m pregnant” coming through the speakers of his computer screen back at base.

  As they continued to fall, Jordan thought of his unborn son. A son he’d never get the chance to meet. Stacey would be a fantastic mother, just as his own had been before cancer stole her away from him.

  Knowing he’d be with his mom again offered him a tiny sliver of peace. The knowledge that he’d never see the love of his life again shattered that peace all to hell.

  I love you, Stacey. I’m so sorry, baby.

  In his final moments, Jordan yanked the picture back out of his pocket. He prayed with everything he had that his son would grow up knowing just how much he loved him.

  He prayed for Stacey, hoping she would somehow find a way to move on from this and be happy again.

  Jordan was still staring at the picture, praying for his family, when the truck crashed into the unforgiving riverbed, destroying every dream he’d had ever had.

  Chapter 1

  Six Years Later...

  Grant Hill pushed open the glass door and stepped into his place of employment. R.I.S.C.—which stood for Rescue, Intel, Security, and Capture. The former SEAL had worked for the elite, private security company a few years now, after he’d decided to leave the Navy.

  Working closely with Homeland, both Alpha and Bravo—R.I.S.C.’s two security teams—were made up of former-military operators recruited for their specific skills and expertise.

  Executing both government sanctioned ops and jobs for private citizens, the teams’ duties include everything from playing bodyguard to finding and eliminating enemies of the United States.

  It was like being a SEAL without all the red-tape, bureaucracy bullshit. And Grant loved it.

  “Good morning, Grant.”

  He looked up to find Gracie McDaniels, R.I.S.C.’s public relations liaison, smiling at him from behind the reception desk. The petite blonde was way too fucking cheery for this early in the morning.

  “Hey.” He gave her a nod.

  “Everyone’s in the conference room.” She tilted her head toward the office hallway. “Oh, and I made a fresh pot of coffee a few minutes ago, so there should be plenty left.”

  Now, that was almost enough to make even him want to smile.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled as he walked by the desk.

  She grinned even wider. “Of course.”

  Grant forced himself not to shake his head in wonder. He’d never understand how someone who had gone through what Gracie had could still be so happy.

  Just a few short months ago, the woman had been kidnapped and almost died. Had it not been for Nate Carter—one of R.I.S.C.’s Bravo Team members—she would have.

  Now Gracie and Nate were in love and engaged to be married. Something that seemed to be a theme with the men at R.I.S.C. Too many of the fuckers had risked their lives to protect and save a woman, only to fall in love in the process.

  Screw that.

  First, there was Jake McQueen, their fearless leader and owner of R.I.S.C. When the former Delta badass thought Olivia—his best friend’s little sister and now Jake’s wife—had been brutally murdered, Grant and the rest of Alpha Team traveled with Jake into the belly of Hell to take out the fuckers responsible. Instead, they found Olivia alive and literally running for her life.

  Later, when she was taken again and nearly tortured to death, Jake had been able to end the bastard once and for all. Fast-forward to a year later and the two were now married and had a baby on the way.

  But Jake wasn’t the only R.I.S.C. man to fall into that sort of torturous trap.

  Trevor Matthews—Alpha Team’s medic and Jake’s SIC, or Second In Charge—went through a similar situation when the woman he’d just started dating was used as a sick fuck’s tool for revenge. After that it was Nate and Gracie and most recently, Derek West and his childhood friend-turned-fiancée, Charlotte “Charlie” Stone.

  Come to think of it, the men of R.I.S.C. were dropping like fucking flies. As far as Alpha Team went, Grant, Coop, and Mac were the only single members left.

  He had no idea what Coop’s and Mac’s feelings on the topic were, but as far a
s Grant was concerned, he wanted no part of that shit. Shaking those pointless thoughts away, he entered the conference room on the right.

  Sitting in his regular seat at the head of the large, oval table was Jake. To his right was Trevor who, like Jake, was a former Delta Force operator.

  At the side of the table opposite Grant sat the team’s two snipers. Sean “Coop” Cooper and McKenna “Mac” Kelley were among the best marksmen Grant had ever worked with.

  “Hey, big guy.” Derek—a former SEAL and the team’s genius computer geek—looked up at him from his seat next to Trevor. “Nice of you to finally join us.”

  Checking his watch, Grant looked at his teammate. “I’m three minutes early.”

  Derek looked at the clock on the wall. “So you are. I stand corrected.”

  “Listen up,” Jake addressed the room. “As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, we have another job. Not as intense as the last few we’ve had but no less important.”

  They all waited while he picked up a small, black remote and pushed a button. The retractable screen behind him lit up with the picture of a man Grant instantly recognized.

  “This guy again?” Coop groaned.

  “This guy is a United States Senator,” Mac chastised her partner.

  “Okay. But seriously, Jake.” Coop looked at their boss. “What’s he trying to do, turn us into his permanent entourage or something?”

  Jake smirked. “One, we will never become anyone’s permanent anything. And two, this job is going to entail a little more than just being an extra watchdog at political rallies and fundraisers.”

  “How so?” Derek asked from beside Grant.

  With a somber expression, Jake explained. “Trevor and I met with Senator Cantrell earlier this morning. Apparently, someone has been sending him threats.”

  “Okay.” Mac looked around and back to Jake. “I mean, that sucks, but isn’t that sort of an occupational hazard for someone in his position?”

  “Can be,” Trevor piped in. “But these threats seem more personal in nature.”

  “He has his own team of guys, though. Right?” Coop asked. “Why does he need us?”

 

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