by Fiona Quinn
The
Series
Boxed Set II
Books 4-6
Cuff Lynx, Gulf Lynx, Hyper Lynx
Fiona Quinn
THE WORLD of INIQUUS series page
Ubicumque, Quoties. Quidquid
Iniquus - /iˈni/kwus/- our strength is unequaled, our tactics unfair – we stretch the law to its breaking point. We do whatever is necessary to bring the enemy down.
The Lynx Series
Weakest Lynx
Missing Lynx
Chain Lynx
Cuff Lynx
Gulf Lynx
Hyper Lynx
Strike Force
In Too DEEP
JACK Be Quick
InstiGATOR
Uncommon Enemies
WASP
Relic
Deadlock
Thorn
FBI Joint Task Force
Open Secret
Cold Red
Even Odds
Kate Hamilton Mysteries
Mine
Yours
Ours
Cerberus Tactical K9 Team Alpha
Survival Instinct
Protective Instinct
Defender's Instinct
Delta Force Echo
Danger Signs preorder now
Danger Zone
Danger Close
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Cuff Lynx
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Acknowledgments
Copyright
Gulf Lynx
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
My great appreciation ~
Copyright
Hyper Lynx
The Players
London Bridge is Falling Down
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Epilogue
THE WORLD of INIQUUS
Acknowledgments
Copyright
About the Author
Cuff
Book 4
Cuff Lynx
Cuff Lynx is dedicated to the men and women who have given their
lives, their bodies, and their minds,
but whose virtuous actions we cannot publicly honor because of the bigger picture.
Thank you for your sacrifices.
More of this is true than you would believe
~ The Men Who Stare at Goats
A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts, and feelings, as something separated from the rest—a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness.
~ Albert Einstein
Chapter One
Danger. I felt it hiss across my skin the very second I walked through the glass doors into Iniquus’ lobby. My limbic brain, the lizard part that tasted the air for threats, had gotten a mouthful. Instinctively, I slid behind the first column I came to while I tried to re-orient myself. Slowing my breath, slowing the rhythm of my pulse, I used my martial arts training to blend with the shadows and disappear from view.
With my senses tuned in, volume turned up full blast, I watched the lobby hustle with its normal early-morning activity. I tried to figure out why the heebie-jeebies — my personal warning system — would spark here, of all places. Iniquus was supposed to be my home. My safe haven.
I scanned the room for a clue to the t
hreat squeezing my gut.
A stream of people dressed in their Iniquus uniforms moved toward the elevator banks — a movie scene of tight-hipped men in camo fatigues and black Vibram-soled combat boots. Their gunmetal-gray compression shirts displayed the effects of our company’s mantra: “Fit bodies house sharp minds.” The women all wore the requisite shades of black and gray. The only ones not dressed in uniform were our executives in their designer suits and me. Command didn’t make me follow the uniform rules — or any other rule, for that matter.
The doors opened, and another group moved into the open atrium and turned left toward the IT corridor. Everything looks normal. Maybe I was just being anxious. It had been a long time since I was on the job. A lot had happened in the nine months I’d been gone. I’d spent five months slowly dying in a Honduran prison; four months in recovery.
Nerves?
No, that didn’t seem right. Stress showed in people’s faces and gaits; the entire pace of Iniquus had changed.
I turned my attention to the atrium itself. The sleek metallic décor, with no colors to punctuate or humanize the machinations of our job, was viscerally if not visually changed. I tried to conjure an image, a sixth-sense knowing — anything that would help me focus in on the threat I felt certain was here. The sensation I got was more than odd. The best way I could describe it was that Iniquus had unfurled. This was not the Iniquus I knew. The Iniquus I knew was a tight fist. Here, as a covert partner with the United States government, working to keep America safe, Iniquus was the guardian. And this was all wrong. Standing behind the column, I felt vulnerable. Naked. Exposed. I pulled my jacket tighter around me and watched.
Four secretaries chatted together as they walked through the doors. I recognized Leanne Burns, the PA in our head honcho General Elliot’s office. I decided to follow behind, using Master Wang’s Shinobi shadow-walking technique.
Leanne tilted her head toward the end of the corridor, calling the other women’s attention to the sleek red skirt, long shapely leg, and stiletto heel passing through the door.
“She’s back.” One of the women’s voices sing-songed as she watched the door swing shut behind the mystery woman.
I wondered who that could be — red wasn’t a color usually seen around Iniquus. I moved into a dark recess and stilled. My eavesdropping felt rude because I wasn’t on a case. I was fishing for gossip, and this stepped over a boundary.
“Yup, I saw her, too. Scarlet Vine, the Divine.” The brunette, Sharon, snorted.
“Clinging Vine,” Leanne said.
“You mean like poison ivy?”
The women laughed, and Sharon reached out to punch the “up” button with an impatient finger.
“I heard Lynx is coming in today, too.” Leanne’s hushed tone pulled the other women's’ heads into a tighter huddle.
Me? That upped the “I shouldn’t be eavesdropping” quotient by ten-fold.
“Have you seen her?” The tall woman’s brow knit into what seemed like genuine concern as she spoke.
“Lynx?” Leanne asked. “Not yet. From what I can piece together, they found her clinically dead at the scene of her plane wreck. Strike Force had to shock her back to life. I overheard Spencer say her captors had starved her down to eighty pounds. Just a lifeless bag of bones by the time our boys got to her. She wasn’t even recognizable the day she was rescued.” Leanne gave a whole-body shudder.
“Dead? Holy crap. Can you imagine?” The woman’s eyes grew wide.
“Makes me happy for my desk and chair,” Leanne said. “I don’t know why a girl would want to do that kind of job.”
“Well, as bad-ass as she is, I think Lynx is a sweetie.” Sharon’s whisper was barely audible; I had to strain to hear her from my position behind the directory. “And I was all ready to hate her, too. Scarlet sets a bad precedent for spy girls.”
“That’s for darned sure,” the woman said.
“Do you think Lynx knows Scarlet?” Sharon asked.
“If she didn’t know about her before, she’s going to soon.” Leanne raised a finger to her lips with a shhh. “Spencer assigned Striker Rheas to Scarlet’s case — they’re partnered as a husband and wife team.” She gave an exaggerated eye roll and adjusted her purse strap up higher on her shoulder.
Spencer was one of the three owners at Iniquus. If he personally assigned this case, then the file was classified, and I wouldn’t learn a darned thing about it. Or Scarlet. Leanne was committing a security violation just by discussing it, even here at Headquarters.
“A close-contact assignment with Commander Rheas? Scarlet’s dream comes true,” the woman said, disdain coloring her voice.
“Like every woman here at Iniquus doesn’t have that dream?” Sharon raised a single perfectly arched brow.
“Not Lynx,” Leanne said.
“No,” Sharon agreed. “She probably hasn’t even noticed she’s working for a demi-god. She’s been too busy battling it out with the bad guys.”
“That girl’s life is jinxed,” Leanne said, turning her head as the elevator thudded down. They waited for the guy to roll his dolly out of their way. “More crap has happened to Lynx than any human being I know.”
“Why? What do you mean?” the other woman asked as they moved as a gaggle into the now empty car, and the doors slid shut.
I decided to walk up to my office. As I took the stairs two at a time, I replayed their conversation. Scarlet Vine. I had never heard anyone talk about an operator with that code name before. I wondered which organization she worked for. Well, Striker would be undercover somewhere... Scarlet and Striker are assigned as a married couple. Huh.
I came to a standstill outside my office door, watching Gator move up the corridor.
“Woot! She’s back!” Gator jumped up and tapped the ceiling with his hand.
The stress that had me grinding my teeth evaporated as I shot him a grin. “Hey there.”
Blaze whooped from down the hall. “Lynx is back in the saddle.”
I gave him a wave and opened the door to the Puzzle Room. My team members crammed into my office — eight in all: me, Gator, Blaze, Jack, Randy, Axel, Deep, and Striker, our commander.
I looked over at Striker. Sharon was right. He was demi-god handsome with his rusty-blond hair cut military tight. His moss-green eyes were full of intelligence, and he had carved his muscles out of granite during his SEALs training. He looked like sin on a plate. It made me hungry just looking at him. I still thought it was right to keep our engagement a secret here at the office. We didn’t need our relationship churned through the rumor mill.
When I walked in, Striker smiled at me with that infectious grin of his — slightly lopsided, with beautiful white teeth, and a hint of dimple. “Welcome home, Chica. The Puzzle Room hasn’t felt the same without you.”
Gator put his hand between my shoulder blades as he sidled past to his chair. Heat radiated out from the contact point. As the sensation washed through me, I reached out and planted my palms flat on my desk for stability as a psychic impression gained form, flooding my system with the surprise of information. Ladybug, ladybug, fly away home. This psychic knowing came to me as the usual illuminated oscillating words. Your house is on fire. Your family will burn. And my mind leaped to find meaning.
I considered and rejected immediately my own house back on Silver Lake. As my consciousness brushed over my neighborhood and my neighbors — my real family, as far as I was concerned — I didn’t sense anything amiss. They were safe. Comfortable.
I turned my attention to my surroundings, my Puzzle Room. While my neighbors were my extended family, the Strike Force team were my brothers, and Striker my heart. I pushed the sleeves of my jacket past my elbows and brushed my fingers over my skin where an effervescence bubbled across the surface, the same sensation I experienced when I walked through the front doors this morning. Here was where the danger lay.
I waited for an impression. I didn’t get much. But the understanding I pulled from the ether
was that someone was using Iniquus like a girl who’d had too much to drink and couldn’t say no, so the boys all said yes for her. Emotions shifted across my face as the brunt of that thought enveloped me. I shook myself like a wet dog to pull away.
“A knowing?” Striker stood wide-legged — about as moveable and vulnerable as a mountain.
My nods were short and quick.
Striker wrapped his hands around my waist and steered me out of the Puzzle Room, down the hall to his office, and shut the door.
“Let’s try to figure it out.” Striker guided me into his chair then slid his hip onto his desk to sit opposite me.
“The team?” Striker started the twenty questions game we sometimes played to help me home in on the whys and wherefores of a sixth-sense impression. Striker was trying to steer my otherworldly information toward the mundane. It often took a series of baby steps to turn feelings into thoughts and thoughts into words, one snippet at a time. I pursed my lips tightly and waited for the “ah-ha moment” that would grant me physical relief from the psychic stress. There was a confirmation, but just a whisper. “No, not you or our team explicitly,” I said.
“Something here at Iniquus?”
“Yes.” Bingo. Iniquus. All of it. Our whole organization. “We’re under attack.” And that thought physically hurt.
Air hissed between Striker’s teeth.
I opened my palms. “I haven’t got anything more. I’m sorry.”
“Do you know what triggered your feelings?”
“I felt odd when I came into the lobby a few minutes ago, but it really hit me hard in my office.”
“I just came up from the lobby. I didn’t see you come in.”
That brought a smile to my lips. “Thank you.”
“Shadow walking, then? You must have had a full-on case of the heebie-jeebies.” He stood up and pulled me into his arms. “Not a very good welcome back.”
He planted an affectionate kiss in my hair as he nestled me against him. His solidity felt perfect. I wanted to stay here, where I felt safe.
Striker caressed a hand down my back. “I’m going to help you figure this out, but right now, we have a time-sensitive case on your table. You’ve got to get your head in the game.”
