The Lynx Series Boxed Set II: Books 4-6 (Iniquus Security Action Adventure Boxed Set Book 3)

by Fiona Quinn

“We are eight men, seven women with an Iniquus connection. Gator is not on-site. He’s with his fiancée Christen. Contact them immediately and tell them not to come in the gates. Urgent. Do not let them return.”

  “Good Copy. Wilco.”

  “There are by my count a hundred and twenty other guests. I have counted over thirty criminals. Eight that I’ve found on perimeter. They are dressed as green army men.”

  “Repeat last.”

  “They are dressed in Halloween costumes as green army men.”

  “Copy.”

  “Rifles with silencers. One woman has died of what seems to be a heart attack. One woman is in a life-threatening medical state with a bullet to the back of her head. One man was unconscious from an undetermined reason. Our people were unharmed last I saw them.”

  I crossed my fingers to give that thought extra good juju. Then sent up a silent prayer to my parents. Please help them. Those are the people I love. Please. Though what they could do in the ether was beyond me.

  What did I know? Maybe they were the reason that Vincent had a Come to Jesus moment, saw what Hell might look like, and shoved me through that door in a bid to earn an eternal reprieve.

  I’d like to believe that.

  “I’m gathering equipment and taking it back to my team. Over.”

  “We have you up on satellite. We have operator teams deployed.”

  Iniquus sent its operators out in Humvees or other large tactical vehicles. One reason was that they were always on call for a fellow operator in trouble. That’s how Ridge and Zeus had made it to me so quickly when Destiny was murdered.

  The second reason was that the vehicles were all equipped to handle the emergencies they were called to.

  I went from vehicle to vehicle with my duffel. I filled it with sidearms with silencers, ammunition, bullet-resistant vests, smoke cylinders, flashbang, the breachers bag with explosives for entry no matter what the material was that kept our operators on the wrong side of their destination. And comms.

  I dropped the magnetic audio units into my ear canals and put the camera glasses on my face.

  “Testing. Testing. Lynx to Control.”

  “Lynx, we have audiovisual. We are standing by.”

  All those rifles.

  All those Omega operators.

  Would this keep my team safe? Or would it make them target practice?

  Altogether this ruck weighed more than I could ever hope to carry. But my fear-adrenaline made me Atlas.

  I hefted the pack onto my back and retraced my way to the window.

  There, I had to acknowledge my limitations. I wasn’t climbing three stories with this pack pulling me backward.

  After a moment’s thought, I secured the bag to my rope, climbed, shimmied through the window, then dragged the pack up the side.

  Slowly. Slowly so as not to bang or scrape and call attention to my actions, I pulled and heaved. I pressed the worry thoughts, the danger scenarios from my mind.

  Adrenaline had its purposes, but I had found over time that adrenaline can be a bitch. It certainly wasn’t always my friend. The biggest fears were that I would freeze, that it would destroy my fine motor capacity, or that I would be unable to think strategically.

  My team was counting on me. I couldn’t let them down.

  I couldn’t.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Standing on a chair in the meeting room with the drywall square on the ground, I lowered equipment into the sink on the other side of the wall.

  Getting back into the dressing room wasn’t a walk in the park.

  As I tried to heft myself up, the wall crumbled in my hands and made way too much noise.

  Stacking four chairs, I was able to scramble up high enough that I could thrust a leg through the hole.

  My brain was pinging with all the ways everything could go to hell.

  London Bridge is falling down, falling down.

  “Got it, already. I’m doing my best.” I grumbled under my breath, suddenly very afraid that my weight plus the weight of the equipment might just make the sink fall off the wall.

  A new challenge, I tried to reframe the situation.

  Spreading my legs out wide to anchor me, with the wall digging into my hips, I leaned through the opening, silently moving the equipment over to the dressing table before I made my reentry.

  It all took time.

  And time was a precious commodity.

  Gathering the things into the pack again, I dragged it to the vent. There I took a moment to assess. It seemed that the long line of Assemblymen digitally handing over their wealth was still in progress.

  “Here,” I exhaled.

  Striker rubbed his hands over his face.

  “I have a duffel,” I explained what I had gathered. “And a sketch of where I saw tangos and hostages.”

  “Good. Chica, here’s the plan. The men will stand. The women will step through the vent. Lynx, it’s on you to get them out. And if you can’t get them out, you will get them to the safest possible place.”

  At first, I didn’t like that plan. I wanted to crawl through the vent and help in the room. But as my initial knee-jerk reaction slid to the side, I could see the benefit of this strategy.

  If the men were worried about their loves, their focus would be divided. The women would get in the way of their operating.

  “Reaper has to come through, too,” I insisted. “I need his help, and he can’t be in the room with flashbang—his head.”

  “Agreed.” Striker stood. “Ready when you are.”

  Lula came through first.

  One by one, the others followed: Kira, Grace, Suz, Faith, Kate. Finally, as requested, Reaper dove through. The only dad on our team, yeah, there were a bunch of reasons it had to be Reaper if I could only get one of the team free.

  We moved on silent feet to the dressing room. Reaper was staring at the hole. “Good job,” he said. “I’ll go first.”

  Again, I worried about the staying power of that sink. If it crashed to the ground, the noise would be huge. It would expose us. I snagged Reaper’s arm and showed him the problem. “Okay, you go first then,” he said. He placed a knee on the dressing table and extended his other leg to rest his foot on the shelving. “Stand on my thigh, not the sink.”

  And so we did. In a train of long skirts and sequins, helping each other, keeping as quiet as possible, we struggled from one room to the next.

  The next step seemed much more dangerous.

  I was the only one with shadow walking skills. We would be exposed in the hallway.

  Peeking, running, stopping, and hiding. Eventually, we made it to the stairs and up.

  Reaper looked out the three-story window and assessed my rope with a whistle. He checked his watch. “Striker gave our exfil a fifteen-minute window.”

  “You planned this before I got there. You all must think I have mad skills. I wasn’t at all sure I could come through.”

  “But you did in spades. Our plan is on track. We need to get everyone down and into the trees. You’re wearing glasses. Iniquus is monitoring?”

  “Yup. The cavalry is on its way.”

  “Moving,” Reaper said. “Ladies, here’s the deal. This rope is plenty strong for one person, not two at a time. That means I can’t walk you down. You can do this. And you will do this. So tuck your skirts up out of your way. Get your high heels off and suck it up. The fear you feel here is the fear of you heading to safety. There’s no gun at your head with a finger on the trigger. Better already. A little more bravery, and we’ll clear this last hurdle.”

  Nice pep talk, but looking at Kira’s face…I wasn’t so sure this was going to work.

  ***

  It was time for next steps.

  Reaper wanted it to be him who moved out, and yeah, he was a SEAL, but, honestly, this was my bailiwick, and he knew it.

  There had only been nine guns in the vehicles I had found and shoved into the equipment duffle.

  Lula had one. Reaper
had the other.

  “I’m taking Lula with me.”

  “Why’s that?” Reaper asked.

  We were lying on our stomachs in the wooded area.

  “Because you need to be here protecting our group. And Lula is the only one of us who, outside of the immediate crime scene, can legally shoot anyone.”

  “She’s a lawyer,” Faith said, baffled.

  I glanced Faith’s way, then turned my head back to speak with Reaper.

  Reaper scratched his thumb into his chin, processing.

  “Lexi’s right. We can do this recon. And let the badges know what they’re walking in to.”

  I tapped my ear to let Reaper know I was listening to my comms. “Control tells me that FBI signed contracts with Iniquus. We’re clear to work the scene. FBI is scrambling, no DCPD, they don’t want the chatter out over the radio waves.” I held my finger in the air to indicate information was still coming into my comms. “Iniquus is sending their ambulances. The heli’s in the air.”

  “Christen?” Lula asked.

  I tapped my ear again and shook my head.

  “Cerberus Alpha and Bravo are moving through the woods across the road. They’re ordering that any shots be life or death. They’d appreciate the intel.”

  “Intel it is.” Lula tucked her gun in the back of her tuxedo pants and left the jacket with a shivering Kira.

  “I just went through this in Tanzania. I… this is a lot.” Kira wrapped the jacket around her shoulders with a thank you smile.

  Lula and I set off for the wall to count heads and give GPS positions.

  Things hadn’t changed much from the time I first observed their exterior security. The low lights along the wall up-lit the guards and kept us safer in the dark.

  Suddenly, the sound of an explosion concussed through the night.

  “Flashbang,” Lula said in a crouch as she ran toward the wall. “Strike Force is attacking.”

  God, Striker.

  My heart was hammering.

  The men on the wall lifted their rifles and searched for a reason to shoot. As they turned, I saw it. “Heat vision!” I hissed for Lula and Control’s information.

  Lula and I dove for the ground, rolling onto our backs to keep the enemy in line of sight.

  Lula aimed her pistol between her knees, getting the closest guard in her sights. There were two that could see us.

  Reaper had the second gun. I had nothing. How good of a shot was Lula? Could she get them both?

  The left guard called out something indistinguishable.

  Both men leveled their rifles at us.

  Lula took the shot.

  The left guard threw his arms in the air, then tumbled off the wall.

  The other man turned his head, following his co-conspirator.

  Over the wall came Voodoo, magical Malinois hero-dog extraordinaire.

  I’d recognize that leap anywhere.

  With open mouth and wagging tail, Voodoo gracefully pivoted, snatched up the rifle arm of the green army man, and continued his flight.

  Boom!

  Voodoo had the guy on the ground.

  The terrorist screamed high-pitched horror screams. I scrambled to their side, grabbing up his rifle. I had zero control over Voodoo. And Ryder, his handler, was on the other side of the fifteen-foot wall.

  This man’s screams weren’t the only ones.

  Cerberus Tactical K9 Team had indeed arrived.

  “Good boy,” I whispered as Voodoo sank his teeth in deeper.

  Epilogue

  Today was exquisite.

  We stood under the broad limbs of an ancient oak.

  Wooden white chairs circled around.

  I stood in a simple green sundress beside Lula and Gator’s sisters.

  Striker was across from me. Our eyes held.

  This was a moment of utter peace. It was as if the Heavens had conspired that after the flashbang smoke blew away in the wind, we would be left with this amazing day with undisturbed blue sky, perfect temperatures, and butterflies dancing across the field of wildflowers.

  Christen and Gator were blind to everything. Holding each other’s hands and without the prompt of the clergywoman, they recited their vows.

  “Christen, would you do me the honor of loving me for the whole day?” He held her hand to his lips. As he spoke, the words whispered over her skin.

  “I will make that vow to you. I will, for today, have and hold you.”

  “For better, for worse?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “For richer, for poorer?”

  “Why yes, Jean-Marie Rochambeau, I would do that.”

  “In sickness or in health?”

  “I will, indeed, love and honor you for the whole of today. And what’s more? Just so you know, I plan on making that vow to you every single day for the rest of my life.”

  These were the exact vows that Gator and Christen offered each other after their first escape from Karl’s villainy.

  Gator leaned low to drop a kiss on her nose.

  Then scooped her into his brawny arms to bring her tiny frame up to kiss her lips.

  There was cheering and joy. And relief.

  William Davidson sat alone in the front row, looking shellshocked.

  His wife, London, was alive but in a drug-induced coma. No one knew yet what London’s outcome would be.

  Karl? I could guess his outcome. He’d probably escape any culpability and continue searching out wealth through terror.

  And I had no idea what had happened to Vincent Toone, though I was assured the authorities were searching for him with charges of domestic terror hanging over his head.

  I needed to make sure, now that I had the note that he had tried to kill me and that he had admitted to me at the party, that Vincent was charged with murdering my dad.

  I set all of that aside. No ugly thoughts should mar today.

  Kira, I saw, would not let go of Ty’s hand. All of the women were a little clingy right now. We had so much less experience with that kind of military-style action.

  For the special operators, it was another day at the office.

  We moved to the gazebo, where there was cake and champagne.

  A step stool stood in front of the entry arch.

  Holding Gator’s hand, Christen climbed up. “Who amongst our little clan will be the next bride?” she asked as she turned her back to us.

  The women clustered behind her, as tradition dictated.

  Christen’s bouquet flew in a riotous colored jumble of flowers and ribbon streamers—a celebration of love and hope, gliding through the air.

  And when it approached, the women around me all lowered their hands, leaving the harbinger for me.

  The group clapped as I held the bouquet in front of me.

  My eyes caught on Striker’s as he sent me one hell of a sexy grin.

  I wanted to marry that man with every fiber of my being.

  If only these flowers were the good juju I needed.

  But the truth was, until the CIA set me free, this bouquet was just magical, wishful thinking.

  The End

  Please follow along as the men and women in the World of Iniquus live, love, and fight for a better tomorrow.

  The next book in the Lynx Series is:

  MARRIAGE LYNX — Look for it in 2023.

  The next book in the Iniquus World is:

  Danger Zone, Delta Force Echo.

  Please turn the page for a list of

  INIQUUS WORLD BOOKS

  in chronological order.

  THE WORLD of INIQUUS

  Ubicumque, Quoties. Quidquid

  Weakest Lynx (Lynx Series)

  Missing Lynx (Lynx Series)

  Chain Lynx (Lynx Series)

  Cuff Lynx (Lynx Series)

  WASP (Uncommon Enemies)

  In Too DEEP (Strike Force)

  Relic (Uncommon Enemies)

  Mine (Kate Hamilton Mystery)

  Jack Be Quick (Strike Force)

>   Deadlock (Uncommon Enemies)

  Instigator (Strike Force)

  Yours (Kate Hamilton Mystery)

  Gulf Lynx (Lynx Series)

  Open Secret (FBI Joint Task Force)

  Thorn (Uncommon Enemies)

  Ours (Kate Hamilton Mysteries)

  Cold Red (FBI Joint Task Force)

  Even Odds (FBI Joint Task Force)

  Survival Instinct – (Cerberus Tactical K9)

  Protective Instinct – (Cerberus Tactical K9)

  Defender's Instinct – (Cerberus Tactical K9)

  Danger Signs – (Delta Force Echo)

  Hyper Lynx – (Lynx Series)

  Danger Zone – (Delta Force Echo)

  Danger Close – (Delta Force Echo)

  Cerberus Tactical (K9 Team Bravo 2022)

  Fiona Quinn’s Amazon Page Link

  Acknowledgments

  My great appreciation ~

  To the real world Christen Davidson for our decades of friendship.

  To my editor, Kathleen Payne

  To my publicist, Margaret Daly

  To my cover artist, Melody Simmons

  To my Beta Force, who are always honest and kind at the same time, especially M. Carlon and E. Hordon and C Villani.

  To my Street Force, who support me and my writing with such enthusiasm.

  Thank you to the real-world military, FBI, and CIA who serve to protect us.

  To all the wonderful professionals whom I called on to get the details right. Please note: This is a work of fiction, and while I always try my best to get all the details correct, there are times when it serves the story to go slightly to the left or right of perfection. Please understand that any mistakes or discrepancies are my authorial decision making alone and sit squarely on my shoulders.

  Thank you to my family.

  I send my love to my husband, and my great appreciation. T, you are steadfast and wonderful. Montauk was gorgeous, spending time with you away from the Covid lockdown even better, thank you.

  And of course, thank YOU for reading my stories. I’m smiling joyfully as I type this. I so appreciate you!