The Omega Team_Mission_Saving Shayna
Page 1
Text copyright ©2016 by the Author.
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Mission: Saving Shayna
An Omega Team & SEAL Team Phantom Crossover
By Elle Boon
elleboon@yahoo.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
MISSION: SAVING SHAYNA, A SEAL TEAM PHANTOM SERIES & OMEGA TEAM CROSSOVER
Dedication
I’d like to thank Desiree Holt for always believing in me. Without her, I would not be where I am today as an author. From the bottom of my heart, I owe Ms. Holt so very much, it would take the rest of this book to show her the praise she is deserved. As always, thank you to my betas, my readers, and my family. Love y’all so hard.
Love,
Elle
Contents
Mission: Saving Shayna
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
About Elle Boon
Other Books by Elle Boon
Chapter One
Shayna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking around the crowded airport nervously, her Guarius violin clenched in one hand while sweat trickled down her back. Having a thirty thousand dollar musical instrument hadn’t seemed a big deal a couple weeks ago, but that was before she’d had a two million dollar Stradivarius violin stolen. Luckily the J&A Beare benefactor hadn’t blamed her for the theft, and the precious violin had been insured. Still, knowing someone had been in her apartment while she’d been sleeping was creepy as hell. Not to mention she’d been getting threatening letters, and they’d been escalating. Enough so she finally came to the conclusion she needed to come home and seek a little help from her cousin Athena.
Damn, Tampa was hotter than Hades in July. She pulled her hair back into a hairband, and looked for the nearest Starbucks. The picture of the liquid gold supplier was the first thing that had a smile forming on her lips. After ordering her vanilla latte with a double shot of espresso and one Sweet’N Low, she made her way out toward the baggage claim. She drank the entire thing by the time she made it to where her one piece of luggage would be coming out.
Tingles raced up her spine. A feeling of being watched had her looking behind her, but the busy terminal was too full for her to find anything out of the ordinary. “Just get your bag, and get out,” she mumbled to herself. The view of all the luggage already starting to come out of the shoot was a welcome sight as she waited for the bright floral hard-shell case to appear.
The sound of a child’s cry made her look up in time to see a little boy of about three racing toward her, his mother chasing him with an infant in a stroller. A pang of envy hit her at the image of the cute little guy, until he got closer and she could see his mother was losing him in the crowd. Without thinking twice, she moved into his trajectory, halting his escape. “Hey there, little man. Where are you off to?” Bright blue eyes blinked up at her out of a tear stained face. Keeping a firm hold on her violin case, she ruffled his hair. “My, you sure are a fast runner. I bet you ran like the wind. Yes, you did.”
“Oh my god, thank you so much.” The child’s mother reached them, her face red from her exertion. “Alexander James. What have I told you about staying right beside mommy?” She grabbed him up into her arms, and snuggled her face into his neck.
Shayna stood up, looking down at the sleeping baby in the pink onesie. “I figured you needed a little help. He’s a sprinter.” Her hand ruffled the boy’s hair.
“That he is. My husband is supposed to be meeting us.” The blonde woman looked around, then eyes that were similar to her son’s lit up. “Alex,” she breathed.
Again, that pang of envy hit as the woman and her family went off to embrace the man who was clearly the husband and father. Looking back at the conveyer belt, the colorful bag sat along with several others making its way around the circular contraption. She’d been on tour for the last four months and had sent most of her things back to New York, where her apartment was. However, the large suitcase was packed to the seams with clothes and necessities. Things she figured she’d need while she was in Tampa figuring out who the hell was trying to ruin her career, and possibly kill her.
Reaching for her bag, she was nearly knocked over as the man next to her tried to grab his own. “Excuse me,” she said looking up into a pair of wraparound shades. She’d shifted the violin case into her other hand, a fact she was grateful for since the man would have knocked into it as he jerked the banged up luggage off the platform and stomped away.
She had to wait for her own luggage to come around again, but then it was one of only a few pieces left, making it easy to grab and go. As she went to exit the airport, the couple and their two children waved at her. Not everyone was bad, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Not wanting to alert anyone when she’d arrived, Shayna grabbed the first cab, allowing him to stow her large suitcase in the back. “I keep this with me.” She patted her beloved violin.
“Whatever floats your boat. Where to?” The cab driver stared at her through the rearview mirror, waiting for directions.
The thought of going to a hotel first appealed only marginally. Instead, she gave him the address to the Omega Team headquarters, then sat back with a sigh. For crying out loud, did the man not have air conditioning? She looked at his dash, and sure enough, he didn’t have it on. Her eyes narrowed, having driven in cabs for the last few years all over New York City, she knew the way they worked. “Can you turn the air on please?” Her voice she kept low and sweet.
“Sorry, it’s broken. You can roll a window down.” He motioned toward the door.
With a nod, Shayna smiled. “Of course I can. I can also make sure my tip reflects my discomfort.”
Looking at her skinny jeans tucked into the little suede calf boots and the plaid shirt over the tank, she probably looked like she was a tourist who had no clue. What he didn’t notice was the bottom of the shoes were red, and they were not knockoffs, nor the fact the jeans and shirt probably cost more than his entire wardrobe. She looked at him as he drove through the crowded streets of Tampa, then grabbed her phone, figuring she should let Athena know she was on her way. Her cousin’s phone rang several times and just when she was sure it would go to voicemail, the woman answered, sounding out of breath.
“Shayna Macintyre, you best be calling to tell me when your flight gets in.” Athena’s tone held an edge to it.
Biting her lip, she was glad her older cousin couldn’t see the guilt. “Well, I sort of caught an earlier flight, and didn’t want to bother you or Grey.”
A spate of curse words filled the line, ones that Shayna had heard their mothers use on more than one occasion. “Now, that is just not nice. Not nice at all, Athena Madero. You kiss your mama with that mouth?”
“Oh, don’t even go there with me. How long before you get here?”
She looked at the arrival time on the dash of the cab, then let Athena know. �
�I’ll see you in a few, and try to calm your temper by the time I get there. Maybe go and work it out with Grey,” Shayna paused and coughed before continuing. “You know, like a little bowchicawowow, or afternoon delight.”
Athena laughed. “We keep things strictly professional during office hours.”
“How boring.” Shayna loved to tease Athena, especially since she was the one everyone called a total snooze fest.
“When you get here, I’ll be sure and show you how boring I am, chica.” Athena’s words held no heat.
Her palms were sweating, along with every other part of her body, by the time they entered the parking lot of the warehouse. From the outside it probably didn’t look like much, but inside she knew it held the electronics to find out just about any information a person needed. Following the driver out of the cab, she kept a firm hand on her case while he hefted the colorful one out of the back. His glare at her and the surroundings, let her know he thought she was either crazy, or possibly going inside to record porn. She snorted at the last thought.
He named a figure for the fare, much higher than what she’d seen on the meter. “Good try, but not today, Satan. Not today.” Already having pulled out the amount owed and added an extra five, which was five more than he deserved, she walked away without another word.
At the entrance she pushed the button to announce her arrival and waited. Since it was the weekend, the lot was pretty much empty except for a couple of vehicles. She looked over each one, figuring her cousin probably drove with Grey since they lived together, and the sharp little convertible probably belonged to one of their operatives. It amazed her to no end that she actually knew real life 007 types.
“Now, what has put that little grin on your face?” Athena stood with a smirk on her gorgeous face. At thirty-four years old, she could pass for Shayna’s sister, with her black hair and curvy figure. The only differences were Athena had black as night eyes and hair, while Shayna had green ones rimmed with black and her hair was a dark red.
“I was just thinking you’d make an excellent Sean Connery.” She kept her face straight as Athena looked her up and down.
“Nah, I would look awful in a speedo. Come here, you.”
****
Mike Royce watched Athena pull the younger woman in for a hug, his lungs seizing in his chest. Shit! How the hell was he supposed to become a bodyguard, and try to figure out who the hell was trying to frame her for the theft of a two million dollar violin, if his dick was already standing at attention?
“You got that look you know?” Grey noted from beside him.
He blinked his eyes. “What look?”
Grey tilted his head toward the front of the building. “The one that says you just got kicked in the gut. Believe me, I know the look. Let me warn you now, that girl is family.”
“I’m here to do a job. Pretty sure as soon as it’s over, she’s out of here, right?” Mike stood straight, towering over the older man. He’d been in the CIA for the last decade, taking early retirement. He’d recently relocated to Texas after his last mission, when his partner Maddox Lopez fell for a member of the Navy he was sent to investigate. Their two year undercover operation had worn on his nerves, but seeing his best friend and partner find the woman of his dreams, and nearly die, had made him rethink his own life. He wanted something that didn’t have him being a different person for months, years at a time. Roots, that was what he’d craved. He and Maddox had both been on the same page, wanting to open their own personal security agency. When Grey had called, it had been a stroke of luck, or so he’d thought since Maddox was off with Hailey for a few weeks, leaving him with some spare time. Mike definitely didn’t need the money since he was from what they called ‘old money’. Luckily, he still had his family home in Tampa, which would play right into the assignment.
Grey put his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Just wanted you to understand what would happen should Athena think you hurt her baby cousin. Trust me, this lecture is better coming from me.”
His first instinct was to shrug off the other man’s touch, but he realized Grey was only doing what Mike would do if he’d had a family who mattered. “I got it. Now, how about we get with the point of the meeting.” Steel entered his voice, and veins.
Grey looked him up and down, then nodded. They went back into the breakroom, the area Athena decided would be the best place to handle the situation. Hell, he didn’t give two shits where it was handled, he just wanted to get the facts and move forward. That was his way of getting shit done.
Athena and the angel...he wiped that train of thought away, turned his back so he didn’t watch them make their way toward him and Grey. He went to the coffee station in the room where they were meeting, glad they hadn’t skimped on the coffee or the maker. The scent of the fresh roast hit him immediately, making his fingers itch for the cup to fill. He lifted the styrofoam to his lips and took a fortifying sip before he turned, nearly colliding with the alluring woman. Damn!
“Excuse me. Can I get a cup of that?” Her eyes closed as she inhaled, making her chest lift.
Yeah, he was screwed, cause his eyes went straight to the white tank peeking out of the open shirt and couldn’t miss the fact she had more than a handful. “Help yourself,” he said gruffly, sidestepping away from her and the coffeemaker.
“Thank you. I have only a couple vices, and one of them is coffee. I don’t want it, I need it. There’s a difference you know.”
He was not going to turn back around, Mike swore, but the humor in her husky voice had him doing that very thing. Big mistake. Huge. He’d gotten an eyeful of her front, and it was an exceptional view, but the back was just as wonderful, if not better. A high, rounded ass encased in a pair of jeans that looked like they were painted on. Fashion called them stretch denim, he called them perpetual hard-on makers. Of course, it depended on the woman wearing them, and this one wore them well.
“Ah, delicious,” she sighed.
His mind went straight to the gutter as he thought of other things she’d say the same thing about. “Yeah, I like coffee, too.” Mike nearly groaned out loud at the inane words, but then his eyes fell on the violin case she had yet to put down. “You want me to put that down for you?”
Her eyes widened, then she stepped back as if he’d just asked her to get naked and do the hokey pokey or some shit. “Um, no. I’m fine.”
He shrugged then walked to where Grey and Athena were going over notes on a laptop. Sitting across from them, he studied their body language, knowing they were as aware of him as he was of them.
“Mike Royce, this is Shayna Macintyre, my cousin. Shayna, this is Mike.” Athena finally looked up from the computer screen.
Sitting around the square table he tilted his head. “My friends call me Royce.”
“My friends call me Shayna, but my family calls me Shayne. I will throat punch you if you call me Shayne.” Sweetness dripped off her tongue.
“Why do they call you that then?” He had no clue why he’d asked, but the need to know more about her plagued him.
“Because my dad wanted a boy, and they were sure I was one. All through my mom’s pregnancy he called her bump Shayne Junior, after him. When I came out a squalling girl, my mother added the a at the end. He still treated me like his son, until I decided I wanted to play the violin at the age of six instead of play ball. You’d think I committed a mortal sin,” she laughed.
“I promise not to mistake you for a boy, or call you Shayne.” He held up his hand. It was a promise he could make and keep.
“Speaking of violins. The Stradivarius hasn’t been returned to the Beare foundation as of yet.” Grey tapped his fingers on the table.
Shayna sucked in a breath. “I didn’t think it would be. Whoever took it is probably aware of its age and value. I just wish they hadn’t taken it from me, but at least they’d waited until the final concert was over.”
Mike held up his hand. “Alright, let’s pretend you are speaking to a third grader, and t
ell me what is so special about this particular violin.”
The woman who entranced him with every move she made, narrowed green eyes on him. “The Stradivarius is a violin that was created in 1711. The sound is incomparable, although my Guarius is close. Nothing can quite compare with the unique superiorities the Stradivarius can create, especially when playing Bach. However, some say they can’t tell the difference when they listen to the same played on a violin made in 2002 by Stefan-Peter Greiner, but I can. The big Romantic and 20th century concertos sound so much better on my baby, but even better on a Stradivarius.” Passion made her face flush.
Royce wondered if she would look like that while making love, then stopped as he realized he had no clue what the hell she was talking about, nor did he think violins were the least bit sexy. “Alright, so this instrument is extremely expensive. How easy is it to offload it to a buyer?”
“That’s just it. It is extremely difficult, if not close to impossible,” Shayna said looking from one to the other until her eyes landed on Royce.
Chapter Two
Mike watched the flare of something undefinable wash over Shayna. “Explain,” he instructed.
“There are not very many authentic Stradivarius violins in the world. The one I had on loan was actually one of the cheaper ones. I mean, one sold for like forty-eight million dollars. If my memory serves me correctly, there might be two that have been stolen in all of history, and never recovered because they are hard to sell off.” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“Then what would this person get out of stealing the violin from you?” Royce looked to Grey and Athena, wondering if they’d come up with a theory.
Grey raised his brow. “Maybe the thief was hired by a collector and this person wants it for his very own.”
It was a possibility and one they couldn’t discount. However that didn’t explain the calls, or they could be a completely different threat. “These phone calls,” he paused spearing Shayna with his stare. “Have they left a voicemail, anything we can trace?”