by Gennita Low
“I won’t let you leave with him without a fight, you know that, Kissy Kibble Love Puddle,” he snarked back.
“I was going to shoot him, you know, when he got away from you,” she told him. “It’s just that your big body was in the way of my briefcase.”
That damn briefcase. She held that thing to her more than she held him.
“Well, this big body is going to be in your way from now on,” he said, and dropped his head down for a satisfying kiss.
A cough from behind him broke them apart. He looked back. His boss, Jared Westin, stood over the injured Sergei, surveying the damage he did to his six attackers.
“Bossman,” Walker greeted.
Jared’s brows lifted. “Honey Bun Bun?”
* * *
“Kibble what Love Puddle?” Sugar asked, chortling and choking on her tea. “I can’t believe I missed Rookie saying that. Damn it, you had all the fun.”
“Well, he’s here in the guest room,” Jared said, “so you can debrief him yourself and get him to say those words. He’d die rather than admit he went through a whole day being called Honey Bun Bun.”
They both laughed. The operation was a success, with Jared’s and the COS Command team working together once Jed McNeil and he got to talk. As usual, Jed’s work was the insidious kind—work from the inside and then destroy from the outside. Totally merciless. Jared was glad he had caught up with the SOB. Been too long.
“So we have our scientists back,” Sugar said.
“Two of them,” corrected Jared. “According to the Russian Walker worked over, there’s a missing Vadim who had gone off to handle another botched kidnap attempt, this time at the MacKenzies.”
Sugar cocked a brow. “What is this exoskeleton skin they’re after? Is it like a mighty fine leather outfit?”
Jared laughed and circled his wife in his arms. “Something like that, but Nadine Walker is part of a program called Super Soldier Spy, so these Russians wanted that too,” he said. “But I’d rather talk about this later. Can we go kiss my baby girl goodnight and settle back into our very quiet and mundane vacay? We only have a few days left.”
“You put Honey Bun Bun and his Love Puddle in one of our rooms,” Sugar pointed out.
“Necessary until tomorrow, Baby Cakes. “They have to rest up and then go get debriefed. We don’t. We just continue love-nesting.”
Sugar made a moue. “I might ask her to stay longer so we can go leather and shoe shopping. Girl’s got might expensive taste. That outfit’s worth several thousand.”
“Okay, she’s banned from our house.”
Sugar laughed. “Not if you want to keep Rookie. I think he found his girl.”
Jared grinned back, remembering that kiss he witnessed. “Yeah.”
* * *
“Okay, Rule #115,” Walker said, his voice husky. He finally have all the time he wanted to see Nadia Kincaid in all her naked glory. Damn, but the woman is fine. “You do not. Do. Not. Call me Honey Bun Bun in front of my boss and his wife. Sugar will never let that go.”
“She sounds like someone I could get along with,” Nadia said, walking toward him as she flung her panties over her shoulder.
“Too well,” he said, distracted by the sight of her.
The curve of her breasts, the soft lines of her hips, the shapely legs wearing still wearing those fuck-me heels. He could not help wondering if he was dreaming.
“Come here,” he said.
She did so and pulled his head down. He crushed her lips with his, wanting her, needing her. He gathered her in his arms, holding her close. Her sweet scent was intoxicating, like the woman herself, and he kissed her harder. She responded passionately, freely. There was something totally uninhibited about Nadia that he loved. She accepted everything and gave everything. They were both breathless when he released her lips.
“All these rules,” she murmured, one finger tracing his lips. “Does any one of them include me in your life?”
Walker smiled. “There are no rules for you,” he said simply. “Just be you. Be with me. I’ve fallen so hard and so fast for you and I want to take time to love you.”
Nadia’s answering smile glowed like the brilliant moon outside their window. “Who knew my sexy beast is such a sweet talker?” She asked. Her hand moved lower and took hold of his. “You got me right from the start. Almost made me really want to marry you and work on competing with your boss with Baby Bun Bun.”
They both laughed.
“No, you aren’t telling Sugar that either.”
“You said no rules!”
“Well, there’s one. No telling Sugar that!”
“That’s so—mmmph!”
Redo. Rule #1, never argue with a naked woman. Just kiss her.
EPILOGUE
It always came to this. Jed McNeil had no illusions about his role as Number Nine in the Covert Subversive (COS) commando unit.
Governments declared war—open and covert—and technology provided the instant highway, but no matter how precise artificial Intel had become, with its laser accuracy, its ability to be in places no human ear or eye could gather Intel, and its useful function of keeping danger away from operatives, there was always the one element not factored into the formula: Human beings were unpredictable, and sometimes, it was much easier to just send one man in after another.
His target was quick, making the first move, going for his throat. Jed leaped out of the way, at the same time swinging his knife upwards. The other man jumped back, wincing at the first slice of his flesh. Startled wariness entered his eyes before he gave a grim smile and resumed attacking.
There was a certain look in a man’s eyes when he knew his time was up.
Jack Cummings hadn’t shown any surprise when Jed appeared, knife in hand. A small nod of acknowledgment. A token, although fierce, resistance.
Cummings had some martial arts training and the hand-to-hand became a short silent dance of death, with swift punches and kicks, which Jed evaded and countered with equally lethal speed. His opponent was quick on his feet too, moving hard and fast as he jerked back and forth, looking to get Jed off-balance. He suddenly lunged forward, fist punching out forcefully.
Jed deflected the jab to his solar plexus, twisting Cummings’ wrist and locking it outward. He twirled his knife into position, intending to give the final lethal blow, but the other man immediately coiled his frame around Jed’s body, his other hand going for the throat. To avoid having his neck broken, Jed elbowed the ribs and rotated sideways. He rammed a fist into Cummings’ face. Another. Then silently advanced toward the man who was holding the bloodied side of his face.
From his expression, the CIA rogue appeared to know that he wouldn’t make it, even if he’d managed to scream for help, and to his credit, he hadn’t. He’d seemingly been expecting someone to come after him.
Never underestimate a desperate man gambling with his life. Jed anticipated the sudden roundhouse kick, springing into a back flip. But not before he saw the flash of steel on the tip of the shoe that had barely missed his throat. Landing on his feet, he flicked his wrist and released the knife in his hand. His steel hit the mark. And it was over.
Jed slipped his bloody knife into the sheath on the back of his belt. He tapped on the tiny unit attached near the buckle, which was equipped with a GPS and coded satellite transmitter, signaling that he’d just completed his mission. He looked down at Jack Cummings’ body for a moment.
To him, there was one simple truth about warfare. All the technology in the world couldn’t equal hand-to-hand combat. He had seen violence from every possible angle since he was sixteen—as a street thug, an IRA lookout, a CIA trainee, an Airborne Ranger in the Army, time with the Green Berets, a covert Special Forces commando, and a few undercover stints that had him working for his enemies. It was a long resume, years spent in wars created by governments, some more secret than others.
It wasn’t something he boasted or talked about, as some warriors did, comparing th
eir adventures at one war-torn place or another, mainly because he’d seen enough in his job to learn to respect silence. Especially about death.
Mission accomplished. Not that it brought any sense of accomplishment. He had wanted to bring Jack Cummings in alive but had failed in the first attempt a few days ago. There was no other option during the second attempt. Not in the middle of the ocean, on an enemy ship.
He frowned. There was that prickle of awareness again, a feeling that someone was watching him. Years of being in his line of work had honed his senses razor-sharp; he seldom second-guessed himself.
He stepped away from Cummings’ body, totally on alert, watching for the slightest movement, listening for any kind of noise that might betray the enemy. If they were any good, they would have shot him by now and not given him a chance to escape. Unless, of course, they were just watching.
In his world, there were agents assigned to just watch and report, entities his kind called “ghosts”. Data-miners. Jed had caught up with a few of them in the past and was even friends with some of them. Objective information agents were useful and provided a valuable service.
But this wasn’t that feeling of being watched. Definitely different. This was even more subtle. A light brushstroke. A soft breath on a mirror.
Jed squinted in mild amusement. He was getting poetic about his job. There was nothing at all light or soft about the bloody nature of covert warfare. The feeling persisted, although for some reason, he didn’t feel threatened, just a vague nagging sensation that he wasn’t alone. He circled the small room slowly and stopped in mid-stride. His gaze darted upwards and around. Nothing, but he was sure he’d felt something. There. Again.
He frowned, trying to gauge what he was feeling. It felt like...he shook his head...a vibration, and not from the ship. He didn’t have time to stand here and analyze. Giving the dead man on the floor one last glance, he slipped into the shadows and headed back up to the deck.
He felt no compassion for the likes of Jack Cummings. Betrayal always had a price. Instead, he ran through the usual comprehensive profile of his target. Jack Cummings, early thirties. CIA TIARA Task Force Three, security clearance Level Four. One-half of the team who stole and tried to sell SEED—a miniature satellite encryption device, newly tested at Los Alamos. Eluded capture. Attempted escape to Russia. Information exchange/barter aggregated at ninety percent. Info risk at ninety-five percent.
Jed mentally closed the file. Operation status: target eliminatDed on international waters.
FINIS
Sign up for Newsletter: [email protected]
GLOSSARY OF ACRONYMS and NOTES
COS/ CCC/ Triple C/ Command
Various names for Covert-Subversive Command Center
COS Commandos
Covert subversive commandos
GEM
Independent contractors, mostly females, who are information-gathering experts. The acronym’s meaning isn’t shared with the public.
NOPAIN
Non-persuasive and innovative interrogation, a special GEM technique in information-gathering.
SSS
Super Soldier Spy project
VIRUS
A top-secret project, a prelude to SSS, in which the nine COS commandos are trained
DARPA
The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency is an agency of the U.S. Department of Defense responsible for the development of emerging technologies
1) Of all the acronyms and agencies above, only DARPA is real. It is run by the Department of Defense. DARPA works on many, many cutting-edge technologies for the Defense Department and through the years, have also used their work to advance science for the betterment of life. Their research in the use of exoskeleton skin for injured veterans is one of these exciting projects.
2) While coming across many versions of projects called Super Soldier in my research, it occurred to me (while on the rooftop!) that it would be fun to write about a Super Solder SPY. A Female Super Soldier Spy. And thus started my deep research into the world of virtual reality, exoskeleton skin, remote-viewing and government secret programs. I had fun creating my own Super Soldier Spy in Helen Roston, a GEM operative. All the projects are based on real government experiments that have been or are being conducted on humans and robots.
3) The COS Commandos are also based on the real SOG Group from decades ago. Men of valor and cunning, they work in deep secrecy to eliminate government enemies. I made up the VIRUS Project based on many different secret training programs.
* * *
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed this story. If you did, perhaps you would like to share it as a review so other readers will find this book too. It is so important to have a written review (not just rate it) because they are what counts for the author, not only as feedback, but also as the way to get promotions and ads. This is because some companies do not bother with books which have fewer than 30 reviews.
Thank you so much! You know all my furbabies and I appreciate your taking the time!
Gennita
You can read Jed’s story in VIRTUALLY HERS
You can read about Marlena’s pearls in INTO DANGER
You can read about Vivi’s goats in PROTECTOR
Sign up for newsletters: [email protected]
Gennita Low writes sexy military and techno spy-fi romance. She also co-owns a roof construction business and knows 600 ways to kill with roofing tools as well as yell at her workers in five languages. A three-time Golden Heart finalist, her first book, Into Danger, about a SEAL out-of-water, won the Romantic Times Reviewers Choice Award for Best Romantic Intrigue. Besides her love for SEALs, she works with an Airborne Ranger who taught her all about mental toughness and physical endurance. Gennita lives in Florida with her mutant poms and one chubby squirrel.
To learn more about Gennita, visit www.Gennita-Low.com, www.rooferauthor.blogspot.com and www.facebook.com/gennita
Other Books by Gennita Low
BIG BAD WOLF
~ ~ Crossfire Series ~ ~
PROTECTOR
HUNTER
SLEEPER
HER SECRET PIRATE (short story)
WARRIOR
~ ~ Hot Spies Series ~ ~
DANGEROUSLY HOT
SIZZLE
~ ~ Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) ~ ~
INTO DANGER
FACING FEAR
TEMPTING TROUBLE
~.~.Super Soldier Spy ~ ~
VIRTUALLY HIS
VIRTUALLY HERS
~ ~Sex Lies & Spies~ ~
DANGEROUSLY HOT
SIZZLE
~ ~Susan Stoker’s Special Forces (Kindle World~ ~
NO PROTECTION
COMING SOON
WICKED HOT
