by Jen Talty
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Desiree Holt. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original The Omega Team remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Desiree Holt, or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
Table of Contents
Her Last Hope
Dedication
The Omega Team
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Books by Jen Talty
About the Author
Her Last Hope
The Omega Team
Book II in the SARICH BROTHERS series
book 2 of 4
Nick’s Story
Jen Talty
Dedication
A HUGE thank you to my nephew-in-law, Nick Chorley, for letting me borrow his name and taking me out for the best pulled-pork ever and driving me around Windermere, telling me all about the history of the area, which gave me the idea for this story! Thanks Nick!
And I have to thank my niece, Shea Holbrook, for letting me stay at her home (which I use in this story) and driving me all around Lake Butler, also telling me stories, and laughing at my questions and ideas. Oh, and we can’t forget making me grab Superman’s junk! LOL. However, it is Batman who makes an appearance (had to change the name to protect the innocent).
I also mention in the book that the owners of the house are racecar drivers. Well, Shea is a racecar driver. To learn more about Shea, check out Shea Racing (shearacing.com). She’s one cool, badass woman!
The Omega Team
Grey Holden was raised to believe in honor and duty and the dedication of men to fighting evil. Both his father and grandfather taught him the tradition of the Omega Male, men who carry a resourcefulness, cunning and strength to get a job done with their own skill. They take great pride in what they do without it manifesting as "ego." They differ from the typical Alpha Male who MUST absolutely be perceived by his peers as the toughest, most popular, and smartest. An Omega Male cares little for this recognition...but knows that he is all those things and more. It’s what made him a good soldier and what makes him a good security and covert agent. Athena Madero fits perfectly into his world. They meet when separately they are trying to prove that a wealthy and high profile political figure is actually The Snake, a shadowy arms dealer whose weapons armed the insurgents that Grey was fighting in Afghanistan.
They form The Omega Team, an agency that takes on even the most dangerous cases. They draw as members of the team former military such as Delta Force, SEALs, Force Recon Marines, Coast Guard, Night Stalkers and others, law enforcement and private security who have the same code of conduct and dedication they do. They will also work with similar agencies on some joint ventures. Headquartered in Tampa, Florida, they accept assignments all over the world, no matter how dangerous.
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Chapter 1
THE CLEAR NIGHT SKY, filled with stars, cast a white glow across the water. A warm summer breeze rippled the dark blue lake as the thick scent of dead fish lingered in the dense air. Nick Sarich put the zodiac boat in neutral and cut the engine in front of a two-million-dollar home on Lake Butler, in Windermere, Florida. A quaint little town outside of Orlando that attracted everyone from your average Joe to the rich and famous.
Not to mention a few criminals.
Darkness had been a good friend to Nick, both in the field, and in his heart. Everyone told him that, in time, he’d be able to get past the loss of his wife and unborn child. Even his mother told him that someday he’d want to live his life again. He’d bitten his tongue every time he wanted to remind his mother that she’d never moved on after his father had died. No boyfriends. No dating. Nothing but work and sitting around waiting for one of her four sons to settle down and have a bunch of little Sarich grandbabies.
However, if he dared speak his mind, his mother would grab him by the ear, giving it a good tug, and that generally hurt. Not to mention, he did have the best mother any man could hope for. Disrespect was not in the Sarich vocabulary, at least not the intentional kind.
He tossed over a fishing line as he scanned the front of the ten-thousand-square-foot home. A string of lights dangled around the fence separating the pool area from the lake. Lanterns glowed on the dock posts, illuminating a life-size statue of Batman. The dark knight’s cap flapped with the breeze.
Every detail seared unwillingly into his brain. The experts called it a photographic memory.
He called it a curse.
But this evening, sitting in the dark, peering into the few open windows of Moises Ramos’s home, watching Ramos and a few of his cronies smoke cigars and sip whiskey by the pool, his memory came in handy, as he mentally pulled up the case file on Leandra Whitfield, his first official mission as a member of the Omega Team.
Athena Madero and Grey Holden, the founders of the organization, had handed him this assignment right after his older brother’s engagement party, and while Nick didn’t begrudge the eldest Sarich, Logan, his happiness, he couldn’t bring himself to be truly exultant for the ecstatic couple.
Not knowing that Logan’s soon to be wife was also a soon-to-be mom.
He blinked the painful thoughts away, focusing on the picture in his head of Leandra from the file. Stunning woman. No. Dangerously sexy. Her dark, long hair matched her wild, chocolate eyes. Her rosy lips offset her porcelain-like skin. He smiled at the image of her sitting on a Harley, sporting a white tank top and one badass tattoo on her right shoulder. It looked like some sort of infinity symbol with lettering, but the photograph was too small to make it out. She smiled in the picture, all sweet-like, but Nick saw one tough interior to match the woman on the bike. It screamed: don’t mess with me, I bite.
Oh, how he wouldn’t mind being bitten by a woman like Leandra
Focus.
He mulled over the laundry list of information. She was a twenty-eight-year-old military widow, a pain he could understand, and from what he’d read, she’d done exactly as he had, tossed herself into her work. Smart girl.
She had her own private investigation firm located in Brooklyn, New York, her hometown. Her file said she’d moved back there from Jacksonville, North Carolina two months after her husband had been killed; another decision he could relate to.
She’d recently been hired by a family to find their missing daughter, and then five days ago, Leandra went missing herself.
The fishing pole bobbed and Nick snagged it from its holder and reeled in a not-so-impressive fish while eyeing the house. Thus far, he’d only seen the five men sitting outside along with four guards. Their laughter filled the night air like smoke in a closed chimney.
As he snagged the fish, preparing to take out the hook, a voluptuous woman stepped from the sliders.
The fish hook gripped the flesh on Nick’s thumb.
“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly sucking on his finger, staring at Leandra as she walked across the patio in what could only be described as fuck me heels. Her wide hips swayed under the moon. Her toned legs
flexed and captivated him from under her criminally short mini-skirt. Nick let his eyes wander up the rest of her full-bodied figure, though full wasn’t the right word for it. She just wasn’t a bean pole. She was what women should aspire to look like, with her curves being in all the right places.
Nick tossed the fish back in the water, tossing his inappropriate thoughts with it, though the tightening in his groin hadn’t eased up at all.
An exotic woman with dark skin and flowing dark hair followed Leandra outside. He’d seen the tall lady a few times and figured she was one of the many women that dressed Ramos’s arm. Even Nick had to admit the man was attractive, but why any woman would want to be with someone who had a reputation like Ramos was beyond Nick.
He shook his head. Like he was any better just because his one-night stands knew that’s all they were.
Leandra leaned against the fence, laughing with the men at some perverted comment that degraded women.
Nick drew his lips in a tight line.
What the hell was Leandra Wakefield doing with the likes of a drug pushing, underground casino ring leader?
And what did that have to do with a missing girl?
Everything he’d learned about her thus far indicated she always immersed herself too far into her cases and she’d gotten herself into difficult situations.
Often with the potential of death.
But he supposed that didn’t matter anymore since he’d found her. He was hired to bring her back to daddy, so that was exactly what he intended to do.
Tonight.
He tossed the fishing line over as the boat drifted closer to shore. He knew the best way onto Ramos’s property was through the waterfront. All he had to do was wait for them to go to bed and then find the room where Leandra rested her pretty little head. Hopefully, she wasn’t crazy enough to sleep with Ramos in the name of solving a case.
He pushed that thought out of his head and focused on how much fun he’d have covering her mouth and carrying her out of the house as she fought him.
Kidnapping a woman shouldn’t be a turn on, but when Leandra turned her head, looking out over the lake, her white skin being kissed by the moon, Nick knew he’d never enjoy anything more.
***
Leandra let Ramos kiss her cheek as he patted her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. She tried not to shiver in utter disgust. It didn’t matter that the man’s body looked like it jumped right out of a firefighter’s calendar, with his dark skin with green eyes and full lips made most women swoon.
She wasn’t most women and Ramos was the armpit of the earth.
“I’m glad you took me up on my offer to be my guest.” He looked her up and down, smacking his lips, his fingers still digging into her ass.
“I don’t think your current girlfriend would appreciate you groping me right under her nose.”
“Alicia isn’t my girlfriend.” Ramos licked his lips. “She works for me and could care less who I fuck. Hell, she might even join us.”
Leandra swallowed the bile that smacked the back of her throat. “This is a business arrangement. Nothing more.” Whatever had made her think she’d be able to sneak around his house in the middle of the night while he slept, she had no idea. Security cameras lined all the corridors, and armed men roamed inside and out. Luckily, she’d done a comprehensive sweep of her room, and so far, she’d found no cameras or bugs.
Now she just had to fend off his advances a little while longer.
Or worse, fend off an attack.
He grabbed her hand with his slimy fingers and brushed his lips against her skin, drawing her a little closer with the other hand. “I think we should make it more.”
“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” she said in a stern tone, lowering her chin. With heels, she had him by three inches. Flat-footed, her five-foot-eleven-inch frame put her eye to eye with Ramos. It was possible he could overpower her.
But the reverse was also true.
“All right then. Is everything all set?” Ramos asked. His hand still on her butt-cheek. His breath reeked of whiskey. “Because I’d hate for you to disappoint me.”
“I told you this isn’t my first rodeo.” Researching the human trafficking racket didn’t make one an expert in the field, but neither was Ramos, since he’d only branched out from underground casinos and drug running in the last few months. “I also told you my contact doesn’t like doing business with someone who is as secretive about their operation as you are.” She inched away, peeling his hands off her body.
“I don’t know your guy.” Ramos practically snarled, narrowing his eyes. “Why should I trust him?”
“Because I trust him.”
“I don’t trust a woman who won’t fuck me.”
She forced a smile, tilting her head. “I’m married, so I’m not going to fuck you.” Her stomach churned. Kent, her late husband, had supported her career decision as a private investigator but he didn’t like it when she took cases like this, and during their marriage, she never had.
Sorry, Kent. But it’s the only way I can survive without you.
He arched his brow. “I don’t care and I bet I could make you forget all about your man.”
“I’m not going to bed with you. Now we either move forward, or I’ll walk out tonight, and you’ll be stuck with merchandise you can’t move.”
The way he adjusted his pants, obviously shifting his package, giving it a good shake, made her body go cold. Her skin tensed as goose-bumps prickled the surface.
“I wouldn’t have to house them long. I’m sure I could find buyers quickly.”
She forced a smile. “Except you’ve got a Fed up your ass and your buyers are running scared, which is why you came looking for me.”
“That’s not how I remember it, sweetheart.” He licked his sun-cracked lips. The deep-set lines on his overly tanned face looked more like scars than wrinkles. “As I recall, you took one man’s unfounded paranoia and turned a profit for yourself.” He winked. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you made my buyer more paranoid just to get the business yourself.”
She shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time a woman went after what she wanted.”
“That’s such a turn on.” He grabbed his junk and smiled. “Hmmmmmm. You’re lucky I’ve got my fill of women right now, or I’d be bending you over right here.”
She swallowed. “My husband wouldn’t take too kindly to that, and frankly, neither would I.” She forced a smile. “No offense, but we’ll make better business partners.”
“We shall see,” he said, adjusting his belt. “If your guy doesn’t show up by tomorrow, consider yourself mine in a different way.”
“Ramos?” Alicia’s voice called out from down the hallway. The clicking of her heels on the tile echoed off the walls. She smiled coolly as she approached. “We’ve got a little bit of a problem,” she said resting her hand on his shoulder.
“So, handle it,” he said with frustration laced in his tone. “That’s what I pay you to do.”
“I did handle it.” Alicia smoothed her hand down his arm in a possessive manner. “But your manager at the Holding Tank doesn’t like what I did and is now demanding to see you. He’s sitting on the front porch. I told him you were busy.”
“That man is such a pussy,” Ramos said with a grunt. “I think it’s time to put him in his place.”
Leandra shivered. Those words could mean anything.
“I’ll leave you to your business. Goodnight.” She turned on her heels and headed down the long corridor, wondering if the Holding Tank was one of his casinos or something else. She paused, glancing over her shoulder. Ramos walked down the hallway with Alicia, his hand on her ass. Following them would be dangerous and if he found her poking around, well, then this might go down as the worst situation she’d ever gotten herself into.
And bad situations seemed to follow her around.
The bedroom door clicked closed, but she knew better than to lock it. If Ramos found out, the circle of
trust would be broken.
Not that he trusted her.
It didn’t matter since she had no idea how she was going to pull ‘a guy’ out of her butt that could pretend to know a thing or two about the human trafficking market. Her father always warned her that bluffing would someday bite her in the ass that Ramos had just violated.
She kicked off her heels and flung herself on the bed. She really should sneak out tonight and never look back. If she left now, she could be back at her apartment in Brooklyn, New York, in two days. Of course, that would be forty-eight hours of looking over her shoulder.
The fan above her hummed as the blades whirled, sending warm air across her already heated body, but not it a good way. Why southerners thought eighty degrees on the AC as a set temperature was acceptable, she’d never know. She pushed herself to a sitting position and took her phone from the nightstand.
Not a single contact had gotten back to her. She swallowed the tickle of fear that rose from the pit of her stomach. She’d give her buddies until four in the morning. If no one came through, she’d have to make a run for it. A tear formed in the corner of her eye. She’d promised Mr. and Mrs. Denton that she’d find their daughter, Skyler, no matter what.
Leandra rubbed her eyes as she entered the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she heard faint footsteps. She peered out of the bathroom, but saw nothing. Only guards just walking around the big house. She slipped from her clothes, opting for a more comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top. Not that she didn’t like to dress up occasionally, but she’d take a pair of jeans and a T-shirt any day of the week over dressing like she belonged on the cat walk, especially being ‘curvy’ or ‘a little round’ as her size four mother called her. Mom thought she was being nice in her choice of words, but it stung just the same.
Being raised by a beauty queen who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth had been a challenge for the tough as nails, tomboy, Leandra. She and her mother had struggled to get along their entire lives, but now things were tolerable as long as her mother didn’t remind Leandra what men liked in a woman.
