Rescuing Gracelynn (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Bravo Series Book 1)

by Anna Blakely

  “Wait. This really is his favorite shirt?”

  Her sister looked back at her as if she’d grown two heads. “That’s what you’re focused on right now? Gracie, this is Nate we’re talking about. I warned you about him. Yes, he’s sweet and funny, not to mention good-looking. He’s Kole’s best friend, and I love him like a brother, but Nathan Carter is not boyfriend material. Not to mention, he’s a member of Bravo, and you work for his boss’s boss. What were you thinking?”

  Frustrated for several reasons, Gracie swiped some unruly hair from her face and straightened her shoulders.

  “Okay, that was like a billion questions, so let me see if I can answer them all for you. First off, no. Nate’s not here. He never was. Two, remember when I texted you about going to his place and why? While we were there, I dropped a piece of sweet and sour pork on my white shirt. Being the nice guy you know and love, Nate offered to let me wear one of his shirts home so I didn’t look like the victim of a psycho-slasher with red sauce all over myself. I came home, took a shower, and threw it back on because I was exhausted and it was within arm’s reach.”

  With a deep breath, Gracie finished with, “Three, I wasn’t thinking anything because Nate and I are just friends. But, even if we weren’t, I’m twenty-six years old and can decide whom I date, should I so choose. Did I miss anything?”

  Sarah took a couple seconds to process what she’d been told. “Nothing really happened between you two?”

  Gracie rolled her eyes. It was way too early for drama. “No. Nothing happened. Nate was a complete gentleman the entire night. He even walked me to my car and everything.” And almost kissed me. “Do you want to see my stained shirt? Will that make you believe me?”

  She started toward her bedroom where her dirty clothes hamper was, but her sister’s words stopped her.

  “Don’t get the damn shirt.” Sighing loudly, Sarah apologized, “I believe you. And, I’m sorry.”

  Gracie turned back to her. With her hands on her hips, she didn’t even bother to hide her smugness. “Well, thank you.”

  “Look, I know it’s none of my business, sis. It’s just that…I want to see you happy, but I also want you to do well with this job. I like the idea of my baby sister only being a short elevator ride away from me, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Either personally or professionally.”

  Her heart warmed. “I know. And I appreciate that, but I need you to remember I’m not a little kid anymore. I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself out in Maryland without anyone’s help or advice.” With their little tiff over, she gave her sister a smile. “Now, if you’re done interrogating me, I really do need that coffee.”

  As she rushed to get dressed and do her hair, Gracie felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t like she’d lied to Sarah. Not really.

  Okay, so maybe she could have put her own pajamas on as easily as Nate’s shirt. And she probably enjoyed the fact that it smelled like him more than she should have.

  And, yeah, it was possible the reason she’d overslept was because when Gracie had laid down last night, she couldn’t stop thinking about Nate’s eyes and that damn sexy smile.

  Or how his shirt stretched over his broad, taught chest and arms, and the way his ass fit perfectly in those jeans.

  Mostly, Gracie blamed her insomnia on thinking about the way Nate had looked at her just before he’d almost kissed her, and then wondering why he hadn’t.

  He’d been so close, too. The heat was there, staring right back at her. Then, all of a sudden it was like something had spooked him and he’d pulled back. For the life of her, Gracie didn’t know why.

  Put it all together and a good night’s sleep simply wasn’t in the cards. She just hoped things wouldn’t be awkward the next time they saw each other.

  Dressed and ready to go, Gracie grabbed her cosmetic bag and Nate’s shirt from the bathroom counter and headed back to her sister.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Sarah’s eyes dropped to the infamous shirt. “What are you planning to do with that?”

  “I’m taking it with me so I can give it back to Nate.”

  “Why don’t you let me take it? I can give it to Kole, and he can give to Nate. Might look a bit odd if you bring a member of Bravo Team’s shirt back to him at the office, don’t you think?”

  Sighing at the ridiculousness of it all, Gracie said, “You’re probably right. I swear, nothing happened, but I can see how some people might take it the wrong way.”

  “See? I knew I didn’t get all the smart genes.”

  Gracie rolled her eyes. “Let’s go, before I change my mind and decide to walk into work wearing the damn thing.”

  “We’ve got a new job.”

  Nate and the rest of Bravo looked at Gabe.

  “McQueen’s on his way in now and will explain everything once he gets here.”

  The men all sat around the long, oval table, shooting the breeze while waiting for Jake McQueen to come in and get started.

  They’d been called in for this meeting, though they hadn’t been told why. Nate was just glad it wasn’t an early one, because he didn’t sleep for shit last night.

  All night long, he’d dreamt about Gracie. His sleep-induced mind had been filled with those enchanting eyes and that long, flowing hair. He imagined himself running his fingers through it before gathering it in his fist while he tilted her head back and took what he wanted.

  He’d have thought jerking off while imagining himself with her would’ve done the trick. All it managed to do was relax him enough to fall asleep, allowing his subconscious to take over and torture him some more.

  Nate woke up in spurts, going back and forth between kicking his own ass for almost kissing her and beating himself up because he hadn’t.

  All. Fucking. Night. Long.

  When Gabe sent the group text an hour ago alerting Bravo of the meeting, the first thing that ran through his head was that Gracie would be at the office, too.

  The level of anticipation he felt surprised him. Nate normally didn’t get excited just from the possibility of seeing a woman. Especially one he wasn’t even dating.

  Not that he didn’t have an enormous amount of appreciation for the opposite sex. Nate loved a good roll in the hay as much as the next guy. He wasn’t quite the man-whore Turner was, but he had a normal, healthy appetite for sex.

  Add to that his good looks and military background, and finding a willing partner was never usually an issue. At least, it didn’t used to be.

  Lately, the empty, meaningless sex he normally enjoyed was becoming…well…meaningless. More and more, Nate had been feeling as though something was missing. And he fucking hated it.

  Just seeing Gracie’s smiling face when he’d first walked into R.I.S.C. a few minutes ago gave him more excitement than his last few sexual encounters combined.

  He was afraid it would be awkward, given how things ended last night, but she’d greeted him pleasantly and professionally, as if nothing had ever happened.

  Which technically, it hadn’t.

  So, either he was reading too much into things and she didn’t feel the same, incredible connection he had—one that, if he were honest, scared the shit out of him—or she was mature enough and professional enough not to let it interfere with work.

  Nate ignored the little voice inside his head praying it was the latter.

  Jake walked in the room, a welcome interruption to his thoughts. Closing the door behind him, he went to the front. Pushing

  thoughts of Gracie aside, Nate sat up a little straighter and got his head into the game.

  Dressed in a suit and tie, McQueen bid them all a good morning. Getting right down to business, the highly-respected man used the remote in his hand to power up the interactive board on the wall behind him.

  “I asked Dawson to call you in here today because I have a job for Bravo. As you know, Homeland contracts us out, from time to time, when there’s something they need done but they are unable to g
et directly involved.”

  “I’m guessing this is one of those times,” Zade stated casually.

  With a nod, McQueen clicked the remote again. Two seconds later, a man’s face appeared on the large screen.

  “This is Petty Officer Third Class, Craig Wyatt. Up until June of last year, Wyatt served as an active member of SEAL Team Five, stationed in Virginia.”

  Curious, Matt asked, “What happened in June?”

  With another click, the men in the room were shown a picture of two Humvees on a desert road. Or, more accurately, what was left of them.

  Both vehicles appeared to have been destroyed by some kind of bomb. Metal was twisted and blown apart, hundreds of pieces scattered on the dry dirt around where they’d been hit.

  “Last summer, Wyatt and his team were on their way to a meeting. The mission was to gather intel from a known associate of Achim Akmar in order to locate and capture him. They never made it to that meeting. Team Five lost three men that day. Craig Wyatt was among those who survived, but he lost his leg, effectively ending his Naval career.”

  Achim Akmar. Nate had heard that name before. He just couldn’t remember from where. “Akmar…why does that sound so familiar?”

  “Achim Akmar is a cleaner,” Gabe answered for Jake. “He’s well-known and well-connected.”

  “Akmar’s a monster.” Jake looked at Nate. “You want someone gone, he’s your man. Need intel extracted, he’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”

  Gabe chimed in again. “He gets off on what he does, which makes him even more dangerous. This guy has no qualms about torturing women, the elderly, anyone who stands between him and his money. Achim Akmar is all about one thing…the bottom dollar. Bastard would kill his own grandmother if you paid him enough.”

  To Gabe, Nate asked, “Why hasn’t he been stopped before now?”

  “The guy’s a ghost, Carter. Not only is he the best at what he does, he’s also a master at disappearing.”

  “Which is why only the wealthiest of clients can afford him,” Jake added.

  “Okay,” Zade joined in. “This Akmar’s a total douche. What does he have to do with Craig Wyatt?”

  They all waited as McQueen changed the picture once more. On the left half of the screen was the same picture of Wyatt from before.

  Dressed in his military-issued desert camo, the guy was smiling for the camera. In a casual stance, he loosely held his AR-15 with one hand and had his other shoved into his pants pocket.

  They each had pictures just like it from their time overseas. Finding something to smile or laugh about in the midst of Hell was definitely worth remembering.

  Nate’s gaze slid to the right, and his stomach dropped. What he saw there was a thing of nightmares.

  Craig Wyatt, or what was left of him, was handcuffed to a chair. It was obvious the man was dead.

  From what Nate could see, the former SEAL had been badly beaten, either stabbed or shot in the gut, and his pinky, ring, and middle fingers on his left hand had been severed.

  “Jesus,” Nate muttered beneath his breath.

  “Achim?” Kole asked Jake.

  “It certainly fits his M.O.”

  “What the hell was Wyatt involved in that would bring this sort of shit down on him?” Zade directed the question to Gabe, but it was Jake who answered.

  “That’s what we’ve been hired to find out.”

  “I’m all about taking more of Ryker’s money”—Matt piped up—“but Craig Wyatt was Navy. Shouldn’t NCIS be investigating this?”

  Jason Ryker, the man Matt was referring to, was R.I.S.C.’s Homeland Security handler. As head of a covert intelligence department within Homeland, Ryker often hired R.I.S.C. to perform ops the government couldn’t officially be involved in.

  “There are complications that come with this particular job,” McQueen answered.

  He changed the screen again to show United States President, James Russell, and another man.

  The picture was taken during a highly-publicized meeting. Both dressed in suits, the two men smiled as they walked together down one of the many White House hallways.

  “Isn’t that Edric Yavuz?”

  Jake nodded. “The current president of Turkey.”

  “Ah, hell.” Matt leaned back in his chair. “I do not have a good feeling about this.”

  “You shouldn’t,” Gabe said matter-of-factly.

  “According to Homeland’s intel, President Yavuz has possible connections to Achim Akmar.”

  “Connections. What exactly does that mean?” Zade asked their boss.

  “It means chatter’s been picked up and suspicions have been raised that our guy Akmar is on Yavuz’ payroll.”

  “Hold up,” Nate jumped in. “Are we really saying Turkey’s president, the same guy who’s been all over the news lately professing his love for America, ordered the torture and subsequent murder of an American soldier?”

  “That’s what Homeland needs to know.”

  “Again,” Matt piped up. “Y’all know I’m not one to turn down money, but why all the secrecy? Why not have the CIA or one of the other alphabet agencies look into this?”

  Gabe looked across the table to Matt. “Can you imagine if this shit leaks, and it turns out we’re wrong? President Russell is supposed to sign that treaty agreement with Yavuz in a few weeks. If the intel isn’t solid and someone’s just trying to set Yavuz up, it could end badly for both countries.”

  “Gabe’s right,” Jake agreed. “According to Ryker, the Secretary of the Navy doesn’t want to touch this one. Frankly, I can’t say I blame him.”

  “But Wyatt was a Navy SEAL, for Christ’s sake.” Having been in the Navy, himself, Matt was clearly taking this one personally. “I’d think SECNAV would want to find the bastards responsible and bring them to justice.”

  “He does, Turner,” Jake assured Matt. “We all do. Unfortunately, there’s a lot riding on this, so it has to be handled with kid gloves. That’s where we come in.”

  “Meaning, the government doesn’t want to get its hands dirty and risk upsetting the almighty politicians.” Running a frustrated hand through his hair, Matt cursed under his breath.

  Making sure they were all on the same page, Nate asked, “Isn’t this agreement the one where Turkey will vow to be an ally of the United States and give up all their mass weaponry, including any nuclear devises they may or may not have in their possession?”

  “Yep,” Kole answered Nate’s question. “Just like the one we signed with Korea a few years back.”

  “But, if it is a solid lead and Yavuz is dirty, we need to know before the treaty deadline.” Jake’s expression turned fierce. “No fucking way do we want our country’s president signing an agreement with a sadistic fuck who’d do that”—he clicked the remote and, once again, the two pictures of Craig Wyatt filled the screen—“to anyone, much less one of our own.”

  Nate looked at his boss. “I guess we’d better figure this shit out pretty damn quick. That agreement is slated to be signed in three weeks.”

  “Which is why we’re going wheels up in—”

  A knock on the door behind Nate interrupted the discussion. It slowly opened, and Gracie peeked her adorable head inside.

  “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but Agent Ryker is on the phone, and he says it’s urgent. Something to do with the new assignment he has you working on.”

  Nate ignored the funny way his heart began to beat just from seeing her again. Jesus, he really needed to get laid.

  “Thanks, Gracie. I’ll take it in here.”

  “Oh, and I called the phone company. They’re supposed to be sending someone out this afternoon to figure out what’s wrong with the intercom system.”

  “Perfect.”

  Jake gave her a smile as he sat the remote down and walked over to the small table in the corner of the room. Picking up the phone’s receiver, he pressed the button to access Ryker’s call.

  Before beginning the conversation with the
Homeland agent, he turned and said, “Thanks for taking care of that, Gracie.”

  With a smile and a nod, she started to leave, but froze when her eyes caught a glimpse of the large pictures displayed on the screen.

  “Hey, I know him.”

  “You do?” Kole asked, sounding surprised.

  “Yeah. That’s Craig Wyatt. He’s one of…”

  Whatever else Gracie was going to say got cut off when she glanced at the picture on the right.

  “Oh, my God!” she gasped, both hands flying to cover her mouth. Blinking back tears, her entire body began to visibly shake as her wide eyes shot to Kole’s. “Please tell me that’s not Craig.”

  Cursing, her future brother-in-law scrambled to reach the remote, but Gabe was closer. Snatching it off the table, the large man turned the projector off, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

  “Jason, I’ll have to call you back.” Not waiting for Ryker’s reply, Jake hung up the phone and made his way to Gracie.

  Sitting in the chair closest to her, Nate sprung to his feet. “Here. Sit down.”

  Clearly in shock, Gracie did as Nate said.

  With her arms wrapped around her center, she began rocking back and forth. “Oh, God, Nate. Is that really him? Is Craig really dead?”

  The grief and sorrow in her voice gutted him. Crouching in front of her, Nate took both her hands in his.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “W-why?” she cried. “Craig was one of the nicest guys I’ve ever known.” Gracie clutched her stomach. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  Within seconds, someone was handing Nate the room’s small, plastic trashcan. Positioning it beneath her, just in case, he brought his gaze back up to hers.

  “Easy, sweetheart. Slow your breathing.”

  A set of beautiful, golden eyes pleaded with him as she drew in several slow, deep breaths.

  “Who would do something like that”—she glanced up at the blank screen— “to him?”

  Nate hated that he didn’t have the answers she was looking for. “We don’t know yet, but we’re going to find out.”