Shielding Josie_Special Forces_Operation Alpha

by Casey Hagen

  “Ummm, yeah, I think I’ll take a pass on the makeover,” he said, casting a glance out the windshield at the guy stumbling back into the Thai place.

  She rolled her head against the headrest and nudged him with her elbow. “Oh, come on… remember that time when Ally and I gave you one?”

  His lips twitched. “Unfortunately. And I’m still traumatized.”

  “Nice try. Remember what you told me that night?”

  He narrowed his eyes, his mouth flattened out as he gave her his best stern gaze. “I said nothing.”

  “Oh, you said something.” She didn’t know what it was about taking a guy friend and giving him a facial, nail polish, and the perfect highlight and shadow, but damn, they couldn’t help themselves. It was Eric’s own fault. He had the perfect eyebrows.

  When they’d finished, he looked just like Adam Lambert.

  Diamond was going to practically vibrate with excitement when he got a load of Eric.

  “I was drunk.”

  “Not that drunk.”

  “And stoned,” he said.

  “You’re full of shit. You were not stoned. You gazed at yourself in the mirror…”

  “Stop it,” he said, his voice taking on a note of warning.

  And she never could resist anyone trying to warn her away from anything. “Your eyes lit up…”

  “JoJo,” he ground out.

  She thrust out her chin and smiled at him. “And you said, ‘I feel pretty.’”

  “I’m going to get you back for this.”

  “Good, because it means you’ll be alive,” she said, tears clogging her throat and making her voice hitch. “I can’t lose you, Eric.”

  “Shit,” he muttered before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her in tight. “You know I can’t say no to you,” he whispered into her hair.

  “I was counting on that,” she whispered back.

  The back door shot open, and Diamond’s bodyguards stood on either side as the man himself emerged complete with sashay of his hips and dramatic head swivel of his head.

  It didn’t matter that he stepped out into an alley that reeked of rotting food and homeless piss, he did it with as much flair as if the curtain had just parted on the stage, and the spotlight thrust him into the center of attention.

  “Holy shit,” Eric said before his mouth fell open.

  “Yeah. He’s fucking fabulous, isn’t he?” she said.

  Diamond took three bold steps in four-inch platform boots laced up just above his knee. The split in his gown ran clean up to his hip, the muscles of his thigh flexed, the glow of the lamp accentuating the sheen to his tan skin.

  “He has to be seven feet tall,” Eric said, his hushed voice filled with wonder.

  “It’s the boots,” she said, then pushed open the door.

  “Josephine,” Diamond purred the minute he spotted her.

  “In the flesh,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

  “Honey, you look like shit,” he said before flicking a glance to her car where Eric stood leaning against the fender. Diamond narrowed his eyes and ran his assessing gaze over Eric. “Hmmm, he has potential.”

  “Potential enough that no one will recognize him?” she asked.

  “Oh, honey, by the time I’m done with him, his mama wouldn’t even recognize him.”

  Josie smiled. “That’s just what we need.”

  “How long are we keeping him on the down low?” Diamond asked.

  “A few days, maybe a week,” she said.

  Diamond clucked his tongue. “A damn shame. Not long enough to sway him into a lucrative career. A pity.”

  “For which he’d be grateful,” Josie said, casting a glance over her shoulder to him and waving him over. “Don’t break him. He’s closer than a brother.”

  “But not a lover?”

  “No lovers,” Josie said, her mind going right to Cole and the way his arms felt flexing against the back of her knees when he threw her over his shoulder.

  The way he manhandled her shouldn’t have her blood singing and her nipples tight, but dammit, it did. Not that she planned on admitting it.

  “You’re lying,” Diamond said with a smirk.

  “Not entirely,” Josie said.

  “A story for another time,” Diamond said as Eric stepped up next to her.

  “I’m going to take excellent care of you, Eric,” Diamond murmured, offering his hand, his fingers glittering with the diamonds for which he was named.

  Josie recognized the acceptance in his expression and breathed a sigh of relief. She had to focus on the case, on finessing Cole into sharing information, and exposing the fucker that had gone after Eric, and she couldn’t do the investigation justice if she had to do double duty as his bodyguard.

  Eric glanced back and forth between her and Diamond, his gaze finally locking with Diamond’s. “All I ask is that you don’t push me past the point of no return,” Eric said, taking his hand.

  Diamond guided Eric toward the door. “I won’t take you any further than you can handle going,” he purred.

  Josie watched them disappear inside and for the first time in five hours, she managed a deep breath. She’d grab a few hours’ sleep and hit it hard first thing in the morning.

  Cole rolled up to the office by seven thirty in the morning with every intention of arriving before the team.

  He should have known better.

  Dylan, Slyder, and Evan had parked in a line directly across the street.

  Cole slid into the parking space right in front of the building, jogged up the stairs, and opened the door into the reception area. “Morning,” he said, heading straight for the coffee maker.

  “Morning,” Slyder said, raising his cup and nodding his head from his usual spot leaning against the edge of the beverage area in the corner.

  Dylan stopped pacing and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “You hear from Tex yet?”

  “He shot me a message a few minutes ago and said he’d be calling me shortly. That’s why I came in. I figured you guys would want to hear whatever he had to say, too,” Cole said, turning his back to the team, his focus on the caffeine rapidly filling his cup with a touch of the button.

  A part of him didn’t want to know what Tex had to say. It didn’t make sense for Ret to hire them to keep an eye on Eric, then within hours of surveillance, try to blow the guy up.

  Which meant more players, but how many more was the question. Ret heard about this technology somewhere and that meant he likely wasn’t the only one who’d heard about it.

  He wondered if Eric had loose lips and talked his tech up to anyone who would listen, or if maybe he tried to sell it.

  “I drove by Eric’s place this morning. The fire chief is already out there investigating. I figure they’ll be done with the property at some point midday and then I can take a look,” Cole said before taking a sip of the strong, black brew.

  The few hours of sleep he’d managed to grab, he’d tossed and turned, nightmares of Josie not safely in the street, but standing on the stoop in front of Eric’s house as it blew, keeping him awake and agitated.

  The image of her and that perfect, creamy skin of hers, battered, bruised, and burned finally tortured him until he propelled himself out of bed just after five and headed out for a run.

  With a few more sips, the coffee began to clear the last of the cobwebs in his head leftover from too little sleep and nightmares that had him breaking out in a cold sweat.

  Damn, fool-headed woman. It was all her fault.

  If she’d learn to shut off the hair trigger of her emotions, she might just survive her career and live a long and happy life.

  “I have an in with the fire inspector and gave him a call last night. I let him know you were working a case, and we’d like to take a look. His only request is that you email him a report of anything you find, just to cover his bases. He called me from the scene right before I got here this morning. They didn’t find Eric’s body so right now t

his is just a fire investigation,” Evan said from where he sat on the arm of the leather couch.

  He had to find Josie and make sure she knew. He didn’t want her underfoot, but he wouldn’t let her live in fear of whether Eric was dead or alive.

  Not that he couldn’t still be dead, but he sure as hell didn’t die in the fire. “An in, huh? This is new,” Cole said.

  Evan leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “I’ve gone on a few dates with his daughter. The last one, a family barbecue. She didn’t warn me,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I decided to pull back, but this happened. I can hang in a bit longer if it keeps us in his good graces,” Evan said.

  “He’s not confident enough in his investigation skills that he needs a report from us?” Dylan asked.

  “More like he knew damn well I had information that I wasn’t sharing and maybe being privy to that information, we’ll notice something he won’t,” Evan said with a shrug. “Either way, he doesn’t have to let us on the property at all so it’s in our best interest now, and in the near future, to play nice.”

  “Agreed,” Cole said, grabbing for his vibrating cell. With a flick of his thumb, he answered the call.

  “Hey, Tex. I’m putting you on speaker. What have you got for us?” Cole asked, laying the phone on the middle of the table.

  Evan picked up his pen and legal pad right away, something he did more as habit than necessity since he was a details man.

  Dylan leaned against the wall, shoved his hands in his pockets, and tapped his foot against the floor. Nervous energy radiated from him as he carried the burden of worry for the whole team. As the man behind the group, the first to suggest they all partner up, he took the ultimate responsibility of their well-being to heart.

  But seriously the guy needed to relax and take a lesson from Slyder who just continued to sip his coffee, his shoulder propped against the wall, and his ankles crossed as if he were standing in his kitchen on a rainy Sunday morning with no other plans than to lounge around in flannel pants all day.

  “Quite a bit actually,” Tex said drawing their attention. “First of all, do you guys realize what Eric Statler created?” Tex asked.

  “Sure, drone technology that works in significantly large numbers, communicating with each other along the way,” Dylan said.

  “Yeah, but drones already do that, to a degree. This guy actually developed drones that hack other drones. Crazy shit. You ever see that movie War Games?” Tex asked.

  Cole’s skin prickled with a sense of dread. His life in the military showed him just how close the end was at any given time. All it took was a shift of the power into the wrong hands and this world could be destroyed in a matter of weeks, maybe even days.

  Men and women like him and his team fought for their country yes, but also battled for the survival of humanity and common sense.

  “Yeah, the one where the computer tests launch sequences over and over trying to find a way to win nuclear war, right?” Slyder asked.

  “That’s the one. You remember how the machine took control? The drones he created do that. They infiltrate other drone systems within seconds and reprogram them with nothing more than his intuitive code,” Tex said.

  Slyder whistled low. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “I’ve gotta tell you, it raised more than a few hairs on the back of my neck. I mean, the tech is brilliant, but in the wrong hands…we’re talking robots that can literally take over everything and start wars,” Tex said. “So the question becomes—who knows he has this technology other than Ret? And how did Ret find out?” Cole said.

  “Well, I can tell you the government knows and they want it. Whether they got the info from Ret, or elsewhere is anyone’s guess. They’ve been keeping a close eye on this guy,” Tex confirmed.

  “If they want their hands on it, they sure as hell aren’t going to try to take him out and risk destroying the information,” Evan said.

  “No, they’re not. I’m pretty sure they don’t just want the information. They want Eric. What’s better than having the tech? Having the guy who created it so he can invent more,” Tex pointed out.

  “How sure are you?” Cole asked.

  “Let’s just say I’ve seen a few emails that lead me to believe that Eric is far more valuable to them alive. You don’t want to know more than that,” Tex said with a laugh.

  “Understood,” Dylan said.

  “So what’s Ret’s deal?” Cole asked.

  “Ret was a Green Beret. Badass to the core. His specialty was counter-proliferation in weapons of mass destruction. He’s retired, but owns and operates three of the most respected military contract companies out there,” Tex said.

  “So, he has a vested interest in making sure weaponry like this doesn’t fall into the wrong hands?” Cole asked.

  “He’s retired from the army now, but yeah, this is the kind of tech he’d either want to stop, or to only have controlled by the US government. First, because it’s the exact thing he fought, and second, because he’s now in the business of rebuilding war-torn areas. The last thing he wants is to have his work undone or his men at risk because drones are out there dropping bombs,” Tex said.

  “So that’s it, he’s clean?” Cole asked.

  “Well, it would appear that way, wouldn’t it?” Tex said.

  Dylan pushed away from the wall, his shoulders rigid.

  Cole’s skin prickled. “What do you mean?”

  “There’s just one thing about Ret that bothers me, but it’s going to take some more digging,” Tex said, the sound of his fingers clicking keys coming through the phone line.

  “What?” Cole asked.

  “He keeps getting contracts even though he’s not the lowest bidder,” Tex said.

  “That’s weird,” Evan said.

  “Maybe his estimates are close enough—” Dylan began.

  “No, they’re not,” Tex said quietly. “We’re talking off by a few million in some cases and that adds up. I’d be interested in seeing how the payments compare to the estimates, but that’s going to take more time. He’s got multiple companies, employees, and banks. The payments are made in installments. It might take a couple days to work through the information. I’m going to need a few extra hands helping me out, if you guys don’t mind my bringing a few guys in,” Tex said.

  “We trust you,” Cole said, his gaze meeting Dylan’s. “Bring in anyone you need.” It was the first time Cole didn’t wait for Dylan to weigh in on the decision, but like he had said, it was his ass, his case.

  Dylan nodded.

  And by trusting Cole to make the call, Dylan reaffirmed exactly why Cole would give him his loyalty…to the end.

  Chapter 4

  Josie watched from her perch in the shrubs between what was left of Eric’s house and the house next to his. Luckily, his neighbors were out of town so there was no one to call the police on her as she spied on the fire investigators swarming the area.

  Her knees ached, she’d felt more than one bug crawling on her, and she was pretty sure her ass was sticking out on the other side for anyone on the north end of the street to see.

  Way to be stealth, Josie.

  She’d give anything to brush away the sweat beading on her forehead, but didn’t dare risk moving the shrubs in her effort for comfort.

  At least she left the jacket in the car. It meant she’d committed to a hefty amount of scratches on her arms and shoulders, but hiding with just the tank top ensured she wouldn’t swelter and die, crumpling to the ground and becoming a bad smell for the neighbors to find when they got home from their trip.

  She held her breath when the fire chief and a couple of his guys disappeared into the aluminum shed at the back of the property.

  “Please tell me he threw the carpet back over the door,” she muttered as she waited for them to come back out.

  Within seconds, they emerged, marking their clipboards, and heading for their cars. With one last glance and a shake of his head, the chief climbed into his truck, and the caravan pulled away from the charred ruins of Eric’s house.

  She searched the area for anyone else who might be looking on—for Cole—before making a break for the shed. Hopping over pieces of burnt glass and ash on her way, water squeezed up from the dirt with each step, making her feet slip here and there on the sodden grass. With a final peek over her shoulder, she slipped inside and flicked on her Maglite.

  A rusted ten-speed stood propped against the corner wall. Cobwebs connected the handlebars to the inner beam running along the length of the shed. Between that and the flat front tire, cracked and brittle, the bike looked as though it had been in the shed for years.

  Perched in the opposite corner, a stack of three white plastic chairs with dirt imbedded in the grain of the arms and seats.

  To anyone who didn’t know better, the shed looked like Eric had never used it and instead left it sitting with items left behind by the previous owner.

  But she had been with him when he found the chairs on the side of the road with a cardboard sign sitting on the seat with “free” scrawled over it in black marker.

  Using her father’s truck, she had taken Eric to the dump where he found the bike and the used indoor, outdoor carpet under her feet that concealed the metal door to Eric’s bunker.

  The props were the perfect disguise to what sat underground. She lifted the carpet and flipped open the door to the digital panel. She glanced over her shoulder and listened, but all she heard was the faint bark of a dog several houses down and the sound of kids splashing in a pool nearby.

  She punched in the ten-digit code, Josie’s old phone number from when her mother was still alive. Her father had been forced to change it about six months after her mother’s death because he couldn’t take one more phone call looking for her mother and the agony of repeatedly having to explain that she had passed away.

  The steel pegs retracted into the thick door, and she lifted the hatch to climb inside the narrow opening and down the ladder.

  Motion sensors worked the lights and by the third step, the room lit up. In the shape of a capsule, the bunker held wall-to-wall computer equipment and work areas where Eric had left out sketchbooks full of specs for prototypes he’d been working on.

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