Justice for Gwen (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha): Guardian Elite series novella #2

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Justice for Gwen (Police and Fire: Operation Alpha): Guardian Elite series novella #2 Page 8

by Cooper, KaLyn


  Gladys smiled up at him with teeth too perfect to be real. “My second husband, Henry, God rest his soul—”

  “God isn’t going to give Henry any peace,” Viola interrupted. “Because the man is burning in hell and should be for all that cheating lounge lizard put you through. He thought he was such a big shot, Director of Security at American Airlines. The only thing the man did was direct his fingers, tongue, and dick into as many women as possible. He brought new meaning to the term cavity search. And I’m too old to think about what other orifices he searched that way.”

  Jonathan didn’t know whether to laugh or just walk away and find some mind bleach, if there was such a thing.

  “He wasn’t all that bad, and besides, he was wonderful in bed. You’re just jealous because your Charlie always seemed to get called out at night to go deal with Ranger stuff.”

  “I’ll have you know that Charlie and I had an excellent sexual relationship up until he had his third heart attack.” She cocked her head. “We even had sex before the doctor said we could after his bypass surgery”

  Oh my fucking God. Talk about too much information. Before the women started comparing dick sizes of their husbands, Jonathan said loudly, “Ladies. Can one of you tell me,” he smiled now that they were both looking at him, “please, what’s happening at American Airlines and when.”

  “Well, next—”

  “See, they’re—”

  They both spoke at once so Jonathan held up his hand. He looked at Gladys. “You first.”

  “Well, you know that American merged with US Air a few months ago and that old headquarters just wasn’t big enough for everyone, so they blew it up last May.”

  “Kaboom.” Viola threw her arms into the air. “It was glorious, and we had front row seats.”

  Gladys glared at her. “Thanks to me being the widow of Henry.”

  “That doesn’t change what he was,” Viola countered.

  “Ladies. Ladies.” He finally got their attention again. “The American Airlines event?”

  “Yes, well, as I said, American merged with—”

  “He already knows all that.” Viola leaned on the table. “They built these new towers and they’re dedicating them Friday, in the heat of the day.”

  “What time?” Jonathan quipped.

  Gladys dug in her purse, pulled out a wallet and laid it on the table. Next came a folder of pictures. “Would you like to see my children? I have six and a half grandchildren.” She started to open the thick album.

  “Thank you, Gladys, but I’m late for getting back to work,” he lied. “Perhaps another time. Speaking of time, what time is the ceremony?”

  “Oh, here it is.” She whipped out the invitation. “Two o’clock.”

  “In the damned heat of the day,” Viola complained.

  “Quit your bitchin’,” Gladys chastised. “At least we get to wait inside the training and conference center, then ride through the tunnels to the ceremony.”

  “But we’re still outside for the ceremony,” Viola retorted.

  “Tunnels?” Jonathan needed to know about those. They’d probably be able to get the building schematics but one never knew. And who’d look for tunnels?

  “Yes,” Gladys explained. “There are tunnels connecting all the buildings. It’s a very large complex, you know.”

  “But it’s so pretty out there,” Viola added. “It has all these trees, a stream—”

  “It really is a very nice area.” Gladys raised one eyebrow. “If your guards are going to protect the place, I would have thought someone as important as you would have been out there and looked things over.”

  Rather than try to explain, he smiled at the two elderly ladies. “I think I’ll go do that right now.”

  Chapter 10

  Gwen had been a bitch. She felt bad about the way she’d treated Jonathan. He had taken the information and run with it. Sure, she wasn’t happy how he’d obtained it, but she’d sat on the sidelines wringing her hands. She knew better. Every tidbit she passed on while overseas could save lives and the same went here in the USA. She’d fallen into the same mindset of that-can’t-happen-here as most Americans. But another 9/11 could happen, right there in Dallas.

  She owed Jonathan and vowed to make it up to him. She liked him, and he seemed to be one of the good ones. She’d dated enough toads to know.

  Yesterday afternoon he and Quin sat for two hours drinking coffee, covertly watching the door. Unfortunately, the refugee boys hadn’t shown. Their pictures had been sent to Homeland, but it was too soon to know anything. She wasn’t sure they’d tell her when, and if, they found out anything.

  Maybe the teens would show today. Gwen wasn’t sure Jonathan would since it was supposed to be his day off. Midafternoon, Jonathan and a rather tall man, both wearing jeans and western shirts, entered the diner and took over the same table as he and Quin had the day before. This time, they had papers and truly looked like they were discussing work.

  Jacki waited on them and pie was added to their coffee order, but he hadn’t requested her. Damn it. Well, she didn’t need an invitation. It was her diner, at least until her aunt and uncle returned, so she’d just check on them to be sure their service and food was adequate, like managers and chefs did in fancy restaurants.

  She pasted on a smile, not that smiling at Jonathan was a chore at all, and strode to their table. “How is everything? You two doing all right?”

  Her gaze automatically tracked to Jonathan. “Perfect, Gwen. This is Griffin Mitchel, the manager at our Miami office. He’s flown in to help us out for a few days.”

  Message received. Guardian was calling in reinforcements at the highest levels.

  “Oh, that’s nice.” She held out her hand. “Gwen Shaw, temporary manager of this fine eatery.” She cocked her head and looked at Jonathan. “Didn’t you just transfer here from Miami?”

  Griffin smiled as though in recognition and Gwen leaned on her back foot. Wow. The dark and broody man transformed into a male escort, beyond handsome with a rugged side to him. She could see him dressed in leathers straddling a Harley.

  “Gwen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” When Griffin stood, she had to look up, and up some more. He stood a few inches above six feet, with linebacker shoulders, making her feel petite. He glanced around then lowered his voice. “You have helped our country more than you can believe. I’m not at liberty to expound, but know, your translation skills have most likely saved hundreds of lives.”

  Shocked, she straightened, as though her commanding officer had just pinned a bronze star on her uniform. “Really?” Her voice broke on the single word.

  “Yes,” Jonathan assured as he moved beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a possessive move. “We’ll talk later,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her temple. When he pulled back, she saw the miniscule earbud.

  Giggling girls broke the spell. All gazes flew to the door where plaid and pony tails filled the entrance.

  “Hi, girls,” Jacki greeted and nodded toward the back of the dining area. “Go ahead. I’ll be over in a second.” She finished the silverware she was rolling. “You want menus?”

  A chorus of “No, thank you,” filled the air as they passed Gwen and the two men.

  She glanced out the large windows facing the street and saw the local high school boys. A few feet behind them were five Middle Eastern youth. “Show time,” she announced quietly and unfastened her apron. Hurrying her steps, she grabbed her computer from under the counter and planted her butt on a round stool seconds before the boys entered.

  After ordering, the boys complained in Arabic for fifteen minutes about their overbearing parents. They hadn’t been allowed out of the house except for school, until that afternoon.

  “You would think we had done something wrong,” one boy protested. “They worry the Americans will discover their plans and deport us before they can finish the caliphate’s plan.”

  From the mirror, Gwen saw that was who
she now referred to as number two.

  “By this time next week, these American pigs will know the power of Allah and IS,” the scar-faced boy said with pride.

  Gwen didn’t have time to think about the statement. All her concentration was on the conversation.

  “American Airlines will pay for its failure fifteen years ago,” boy number three declared. “And al Qaida will see how the true caliphate—” Makes things happen? Gwen wasn’t sure what the boy’s words meant. Dialect could be a bitch kitty.

  “My Uncle Aqil is so clever. No one will ever find the bombs.”

  Gwen was so stunned by the declaration she forgot to look to see which boy had said that. Damn it. Focus. But they had a name. Finally.

  “Your Uncle Aqil is so old he probably can’t remember where he put them all.”

  Gwen looked up in time to see that was number two talking.

  “He has lived in America too long,” number three said. “He smokes. So smelly.”

  “That’s part of his blanket,” number one said.

  No, not blanket, cover. The man had been here undercover.

  “Here you go boys,” Jacki’s friendly voice broke the conversation.

  “Thank you,” many said in English.

  “More soda?” the waitress asked.

  “Yes, please,” numbers two and three said.

  “I’ll be right back with those.” Jacki was so good with everyone.

  “Boys,” scar-face said in English then switched to Arabic. “I am a man and would show her, over and over again.”

  All the boys looked at Jacki, laughing and leering.

  Gwen’s blood ran cold. Would they try to kidnap her? She’d feared something like that since the first time they’d come in and bragged about having sex.

  Then she got mad. No. She would stop their families and get the lot of them deported out of this country. She was all for helping peaceful Muslims. During her off hours in Afghanistan, she assisted with healthcare in dozens of villages. She couldn’t count how many inoculations she’d given, cuts she’d cleaned and bandaged, or surgeries she’d helped with. She knew there were thousands of refugees in the USA fleeing the abuse and starvation from too many years of war, wanting a better life for their children.

  Then there were those bent on the destruction of the American way of life. They needed to be identified and removed.

  Gwen studied her computer screen. She was going to stop these men.

  When the boys left ten minutes later, she never saw the Guardian men follow them. They were good. Really good.

  Jonathan sat down on one side of her and Griffin on the other, saying nothing. She moved her screen so they could see.

  “Holy, fuck,” Griffin whispered as she slowly scrolled through her notes.

  A few clicks later, she handed Jonathan a flash drive. “At least we have a name.”

  “And soon we’ll have five addresses.” Jonathan smiled at her. “Two are already being processed.”

  “They live that close?” It had only been a few minutes. The possibilities of what they could do to the girls who worked for her made her shudder. She immediately instituted a new policy. No one walked out alone, no one went home alone. Hell, if she had to, she’d tap all the cops who ate there regularly to escort her employees home. This could get really ugly.

  Jonathan must have heard the distress in her voice. He slid his arm over her back and pulled her toward him. He smelled like spice and man. Memories of the two of them together in bed, the way he’d wanted her, made her feel, pushed out the fear that had been building inside.

  “We’re handling the situation,” he assured her.

  She dropped her head on his shoulder.

  A faint voice announced, “Operations to all assets, report to base.”

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He removed his arm and she noticed Griffin was already standing. “I have to go.”

  Gwen stood, too.

  He stared at her for several seconds. “I’ll call you later. Maybe we can get in a late supper?”

  “We’ll see. I’m thinking you’ll be busy.” Then she added, “If you’re available tomorrow afternoon, how about a bike ride at White Rock Lake Park?”

  His smile filled every corner of doubt. “Let me see if I can make that happen.”

  * * *

  Jonathan sat down at the small conference table with Quin, Griffin and Stan, one of the other two assistant managers of the Dallas Center.

  Alex came onto the flat screen, life size. “Jonathan, the information you provided dovetails with what Homeland Security has. Good work.”

  He should have felt proud. He was anything but. He’d used Gwen.

  “They’ve identified several possible targets and have employed Guardian to spearhead stopping them,” Alex announced. “Griffin, you are in charge of training the men we discussed. I want them on the range practicing the way Katlin showed you.”

  Jonathan mentally hi-fived the managing partner. Their other corporate owner, Katlin Callahan, was the Ladies of Black Swan team leader who had taught the men at Miami Guardian Center several shooting games that honed not only their gun skills, but decision making. This was going to be fun.

  Alex continued, “Get them into the gym with hand-to-hand and knife skills.”

  “Yes, sir,” Griffin replied.

  “I’ve discussed Miss Shaw at length with the commanding general at SOCOM and he agrees that she might become a target of retribution. I want Guardian to become her shadow. Jonathan, since you seem to have established a relationship with her, you are point on that part of this mission.”

  Jonathan’s heart dropped with a sickening thud into his stomach. Gwen could be in danger. “Sir, do they have credible threats against Gwen?”

  “No,” Alex reassured, then dropped the other foot. “Not yet. But if the Dallas cell discovers she assisted in the thwarting of their plans, she’ll be at the top of their list.”

  “So, just clarifying here,” Jonathan needed to calm the hell down. His heart was racing and not in a good way. Sliding into operational mode, he expounded, “We can expect a greater threat to Gwen’s life after we’ve accomplished our mission of stopping these assholes. Until then, she’s not even on their radar.”

  “Exactly,” Alex agreed. “But that could change in an instant. You need to be prepared to protect her. She seems to be a very intelligent woman and may already realize the danger, or at least potential. Tell her Guardian will provide personal protection for her until we’re sure she’s no longer in jeopardy.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jonathan had his work cut out for him.

  “I don’t know the quality of Miss Shaw’s language skills, but SOCOM put translators on this operation.” Alex stated. “Quin, Griffin, we have permission to tap their homes. Phone taps are already underway.”

  Alex shifted in his high-back leather chair. “I can’t afford to expend anymore resources in Dallas. Initial indications are that this may be a multicity attack.”

  Griffin sat upright. “I’ll leave for Miami immediately.”

  “No,” Alex countered. “I need you to complete the training in Dallas. Your men are honed and Nate is handling things very well. Dallas is a new office with too many leftover employees from the former owners who aren’t our men.”

  Everyone understood what Alex meant. There were civilians with no prior special operations skills which would be required for this mission.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon.”

  “Thank you, Alex,” Quin said and clicked off the screen, ending the video conference. He looked at Griffin, then glanced at Jonathan. “Someday I’m going to meet Katlin Callahan.” There was determination in his voice. “In the meantime, what’s so special about her range training?”

  “It’s not like anything you’ve ever done before,” Griffin warned.

  “It’s really kind of fun,” Jonathan added.

  “We need to rent several hours of range time, after hours
preferably, no recordings,” Griffin instructed, “since this office doesn’t have one yet. Same for a gym.”

  Quin looked around. “I can’t wait to move into our new building, but the contractor says it’ll be at least another month. Looks like we’re night owls for the foreseeable future.”

  Griffin turned to Jonathan as they were leaving. “You’re already trained. Go handle Gwen.” Light dawned in his former manager’s eyes. Turning quickly to Quin, he apologized. “Sorry, man, I forgot he’s not mine anymore.”

  Quin smiled. “No problem, this time. I would have given the same orders.”

  “Color me gone.” Jonathan waved and left the room before a pissing contest started.

  When he arrived at Up In Smoke, the place was hopping with supper guests. Gwen was waiting tables and gave him a questioning look over her shoulder. He parked his butt at the counter where he could see almost the entire restaurant between the convex mirror in the corner and his peripheral vision.

  After she posted a meal ticket, she spun around and gave him a once-over. “Can this be quick?”

  Yeah, he could do her fast and hard anytime she wanted, but he had to tell her his news, now. He nodded.

  She tilted her head toward the kitchen and headed into the back.

  In the office he pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but the picnic and the park are out of the question.”

  “You have to work?”

  “No.” Here came the hard part. He took a deep breath and stared into her soft brown eyes. “You might be a target for the terrorist cell. Maybe not now, maybe not even later. But you are an asset SOCOM wants protected.”

  Her perfectly arched eyebrows flew up. “SOCOM is in on this? Aren’t they primarily military?”

  “Yes, but Guardian is a SOCOM contractor and it’s easier for Homeland to use us rather than inform all their entities of the potential threat, at least until we can get them definitive proof.”

  She shrugged. “Makes sense. I figured I might be a target at some point.” She threw her arms around him and smiled. “So do I get twenty-four-seven protection?”

 

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