by Katie Reus
Copyright © 2015 Katie Reus
Excerpt from A Covert Affair copyright © 2016 Katie Reus
Cover photo © Marta Bevacqua/Arcangel images.
Cover design www.isitdesign.co.uk
Author photograph © Jessica Ziegler 2011
The right of Katie Reus to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Published by arrangement with NAL Signet,
a member of Penguin Group (USA), LLC.
A Penguin Random House Company
First published in this Ebook edition in 2015
by HEADLINE ETERNAL
An imprint of HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN 978 1 4722 3138 3
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Praise for Katie Reus
By Katie Reus
About the Book
Acknowledgments
Dedication
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
An exciting excerpt from A Covert Affair
Catch Katie’s thrilling Deadly Ops series
Don’t miss Katie’s Moon Shifter books
Find out more about Headline Eternal
About the Author
Katie Reus fell in love with romance at a young age thanks to books she’d pilfered from her mom’s stash. After changing majors too many times to count, she finally graduated with a degree in psychology. She now spends her days writing thrilling romantic suspense and dark paranormal romance. She currently lives near Biloxi, Mississippi, with her family. When she’s not creating stories she can usually be found spending time with her family or one of the many eclectic animals they’ve adopted over the years.
Find out more about Katie by visiting www.katiereus.com, connect with her on Facebook at www.facebook.com/katiereusauthor and Twitter @katiereus.
Katie Reus’s Deadly Ops series will blow you away. Here’s why:
‘A fast-paced, high-stakes romantic thriller . . . Strong characterization and steadily mounting tension are powerful weapons in this talented author’s arsenal’ Publishers Weekly
‘Katie Reus has the amazing ability of pulling the reader onto the front lines of the action and drama . . . A fast-paced, intelligent, and spirited story of suspense, mystery, intrigue, and murder . . . It is a story of heartbreak and grief; friendship and love; betrayal and revenge’ The Reading Cafe
‘Fast-paced romantic suspense that will keep you on the edge of your seat!’ Cynthia Eden, New York Times bestselling author
‘A well-plotted, excellently delivered, emotional and sensual ride that grabs hold and doesn’t let go . . . delivers mystery, suspense, and a romance nothing short of heart-pounding’ Night Owl Reviews
‘Sexy suspense at its finest’ Laura Wright, New York Times bestselling author
‘Non-stop action, a solid plot, good pacing, and riveting suspense’ Romantic Times
‘Explosive danger, and enough sexual tension to set the pages on fire . . . fabulous!’ Alexandra Ivy, New York Times bestselling author
‘Both romantic and suspenseful, a fast-paced, sexy book full of high-stakes action’ Heroes and Heartbreakers
By Katie Reus
Deadly Ops Series
Targeted
Bound To Danger
Chasing Danger (e-novella)
Shattered Duty
Edge Of Danger
A Covert Affair
Moon Shifter Series
Alpha Instinct
Lover’s Instinct (e-novella)
Primal Possession
Mating Instinct
His Untamed Desire (e-novella)
Avenger’s Heat
Hunter Reborn
About the Book
It’s been the week from hell for undercover agent Tucker Pankov. With his boss murdered and his elite team stripped of their top-security privileges, it’s clear they’re targets of an elaborate plot. Tucker has one shot to uncover the truth – so he kidnaps the only woman who can save them.
National Security Agent Karen Stafford is at the top of her game. Fiercely independent, she refuses to be told what to do. But when Tucker is framed for a fatal terrorist attack, she believes in his innocence and is determined to clear his name.
As the investigation heats up, so does Tucker and Karen’s powerful chemistry. But this conspiracy runs terrifyingly deep. Their enemies are dangerously close – putting any chance of a life together in lethal jeopardy. . .
Don’t stop here – check out Katie Reus’s other Deadly Ops novels: Targeted, Bound To Danger, Shattered Duty and the Chasing Danger e-novella.
Acknowledgments
I owe a big thanks to my wonderful editor, Danielle Perez! Thank you for pushing me to make this book shine. To the entire team at New American Library—Christina Brower, Jessica Brock, Ashley Polikoff, and Katie Anderson—thank you for all the behind-the-scenes work you do. For my fabulous agent, Jill Marsal, thank you for being in my corner. Kari Walker, as always, thank you a million times over for all your insight when reading the first draft of Edge Of Danger. For my husband and son, I’m forever grateful that you put up with my crazy writer’s hours. And I owe another thanks to my husband for answering all my random research questions. Any mistakes are my own, or I intentionally took creative license. For Sarah, thank you for all that you do. You keep me sane. As always, thank you, thank you, thank you to my Deadly Ops readers! I’m thrilled to bring you another book in this world and I hope you enjoy this latest installment. Last but never least, I’m incredibly grateful to God for so many blessings.
For the men and women who put their lives on the line every day for complete strangers, often without gratitude. Your sacrifices are appreciated in ways words can never express.
Chapter 1
Unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV): aka drone, an aircraft without a human pilot physically aboard. Controlled by computers or a pilot at another location.
Rayford Osborn strode down the brick sidewalk of the quiet Georgetown neighborhood, trying to keep his walk natural. Not easy when a wild energy hummed through him. It was a little after ten and this area of the city was relatively quiet. As a sedan drove by, he automatically pulled his hoodie down a fraction to hide his face. A fucking hoodie.
His chosen adolescent attire grated against everything in
him, but it was necessary for tonight’s meeting. Things were about to change; he felt it deep in his bones. His country needed to be on a different path, and if that happened to make him richer, he wasn’t going to complain. People who thought money was the root of all evil were fools. He and his wife did well for themselves, but more was always better. More money meant more power. And power was everything.
As the car continued past him without slowing a fraction, he let out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. This cloak-and-dagger business wasn’t for him. Since college and beyond he’d been so careful about his image, both in public and in private. No affairs, no drinking to excess, no drugs—nothing that could come back to bite him in the ass later on. So many of his peers had screwed that up in college, but not him.
Now what he was doing could get him sent to jail for the rest of his life, or more likely tried for treason and given the death penalty. Only if he and his like-minded allies got caught, of course.
Which they wouldn’t. They were too good and had been flying under everyone’s radar for too long. And now the time for talk was over. It was time to strike.
When he reached his destination, a high-priced townhome—they all were in Georgetown—the front door opened before he’d ascended the short set of stone stairs.
Thad Hillenbrand stood in the doorway, his icy blue eyes glinting as he frowned at him. “You’re late,” he growled as Rayford moved past him into the dimly lit foyer. “Everyone else is here.”
Rayford shoved his hoodie back and loosened his plain black scarf from around his neck. “I walked from the Metro.”
Hillenbrand’s shoulders relaxed at that. “Which station?”
“Dupont Circle. And before you ask, I was careful of the cameras.” The truth was, it was impossible to stay off all the CCTVs, but there was no connection between him and Hillenbrand. At least not an electronic or physical one. And Rayford already had a reason for being in the Georgetown area tonight if he was ever questioned. Once he’d left the Metro station, avoiding cameras had been a piece of cake. “I’m the last one here?” he asked, even though Hillenbrand had just stated he was.
The older man nodded once then gave a sharp jerk of his head that Rayford should follow. He’d only been in the townhome once before, for a covert meeting just like this one. He knew that Hillenbrand used the exclusive property to bring escorts to. It was the man’s one vice and something Rayford had thought he could use against him at one point.
But Hillenbrand wasn’t in politics—not directly—and made enough money on his own that he didn’t need his wealthy wife’s money if she decided to leave him. Not to mention the man treated his whores well so Rayford couldn’t even blackmail him on allegations of abuse. It appeared he only brought his women here because it was convenient. Plus, his wife was cheating on him too, so she likely knew of his affairs.
Rayford might work with the man because they shared common goals, but he didn’t like being involved with someone he had no dirt on. In his world, having leverage was king.
They only walked a few feet, bypassing the stairs, Hillenbrand instead opening the door that led to the basement.
Rayford went first on Hillenbrand’s insistence. The man didn’t like to have anyone at his back, and Rayford knew it was more or less a power play. But he didn’t care. If things went well, soon he’d be the top aide to the most powerful man in the country.
A low hum of voices grew louder as he turned the corner at the end of the stairs and walked down the last three steps. Eight men in all were there, ten total including him and Hillenbrand. There was only one man Rayford didn’t recognize. Something about the guy’s face tickled his memory bank, but he couldn’t place it. Blond hair, in shape, an almost forgettable appearance, but he knew he’d seen the man somewhere before.
Soon he’d find out, but he didn’t bother asking Hillenbrand. The man was more cautious than any of them, and he wouldn’t have allowed someone to come to this meeting he wasn’t one hundred percent sure of.
“We need to fight a war we can win,” Wagner, one of the men, said, stating something everyone in this room believed in. Mainly because he liked to hear his own voice.
So many of these men did. It annoyed Rayford, but he was used to the type. Hell, he worked for one. Men who couldn’t stand not to be the center of attention. Rayford had no problem living in the background.
“But is this the way?” Padilla, a dark-haired man in his late forties, rubbed a hand down his face, his tension clear.
“If you have doubts, you’re free to leave,” Hillenbrand said, his edgy tone making the room go silent.
Because everyone knew his words were a lie. Padilla could leave if he wanted, but if he did he’d be dead within twenty-four hours, likely less. They all knew what they’d signed up for when they began their cause, when Hillenbrand contacted them and brought them together. They all knew what was at stake and what the cost for backing out would be. It was like the mob. The only way out was in a body bag.
Padilla straightened against the brown Chesterfield where he sat next to Wagner, his gaze narrowing on Hillenbrand. “I don’t have doubts, but I do have an opinion, which I’m free to voice, yes?”
Coming to stand next to Rayford, Hillenbrand crossed his arms over his chest as he faced down Padilla. “We’re all welcome to our opinions, but in the end we know what has to be done, so these discussions are pointless and tiring. The current administration needs to be proven inept beyond a shadow of a doubt. We must pave the way for a new leader for the next election. Once we have our chosen man inside, we’ll be even closer to our end goal. And we’ll all be richer in the end.”
There was a low murmur of agreement throughout the room. Rayford inwardly groaned. Just like the others in the room, Hillenbrand liked to speak simply to hear his own voice. Rayford hoped the man wasn’t going to get long-winded on them now. He’d managed to break away from dinner at his wife’s parents’ house stating a work emergency, but he didn’t have time to waste.
“The time for talking is over. Now’s the time for action.” Striding to the minibar, Hillenbrand picked up a small black remote. “If you will all direct your attention to the screen,” he said, motioning toward the mini movie theater screen that took up one of the walls.
Hillenbrand used this as an entertainment room and occasionally let his college-aged boys use the place too. But he knew they weren’t going to be watching a movie in it.
“About a month ago a U.S.–owned drone was stolen from a military base,” Hillenbrand continued.
It wasn’t public knowledge, but Rayford knew of the incident. His own boss was sitting on the information, waiting on the right time to release it for the best of their political gain.
“Now you all are going to see why.” As Hillenbrand pressed a button on the remote, the lights in the room dimmed and a feed popped up on-screen that looked like an eagle eye from a plane.
“Is this live?” Rayford asked quietly, realizing it was a view from the drone.
Hillenbrand gave him a hard look and nodded before focusing on the screen once again. “Unfortunately I don’t have audio, but we don’t need it.”
Though it was dark, the dash was clear enough with the night-vision capabilities. Not that it mattered because if this was a view from the drone, it would be controlled remotely and no one would actually be in the aerial device. Which raised the question—who was controlling it? This was the first Hillenbrand had told any of them about this.
“Go ahead,” Hillenbrand murmured quietly, and Rayford realized he must have a small earpiece in.
Annoyance hummed through him at being left in the dark about who this other contact was, but he kept his emotions in check.
A long moment later a bright burst of light illuminated the screen, quickly followed by another. Those were missiles. Who was the target? This was a very dangerous weapon and he wasn’t sure Hillenbrand was the right man to be in control of it. Rayford’s anger and annoyance intensified as h
e watched a bright orange ball of flame light up the darker screen as the missiles detonated their target. The feed was in black and white, but the infrared showed the heat signature clearly, so he knew it was fire.
Before he could say anything, the ground shook just the slightest bit and his stomach lurched. Hillenbrand had attacked somewhere in Washington, D.C.
The screen went blank and the lights brightened as Hillenbrand smiled broadly. He’d just ordered the killing of Americans here in the capital and didn’t give a damn. “There’s no going back now for any of us. That was just the beginning. Unfortunately we’ll have some hard choices to make in the coming weeks, but I have no doubt we’re all up to the job. And I know you’re wondering who the target was. The Nelson fund-raiser was just hit, eliminating our only real competition for the upcoming primaries.”
Rayford’s mouth filled with cotton as he struggled to find his voice. They’d been talking and planning for so long, but he’d never imagined Hillenbrand would go after someone in their own political party. And never like this. He understood it, the need to eliminate everyone who posed a threat to the candidate they needed in office if change was ever going to take place, but . . . it seemed so violent. So unforgiveable.
Luckily he didn’t have to talk because the room erupted in voices, everyone talking over one another. Some were excited; others were angry he’d made the decision without asking any of them. Now they were all trapped. No matter what happened, they’d all been part of this. Avoiding Hillenbrand’s gaze, he made his way to the minibar and poured himself a scotch, his hand trembling ever so slightly. As he did, he realized where he’d seen the only man in the room he hadn’t recognized when he’d entered. On the news.
The man worked for the DEA. Which meant Hillenbrand had brought him in because of who he worked for. Unless Hillenbrand had no idea who he was. If that was the case, they were going to have more blood on their hands because they couldn’t allow anyone outside this room to know what they’d done.
