Covering Coco (Special Forces: Operation Alpha) (Special Forces & Brotherhood Protector Series Book 7)

by Heather Long

  “Glad to hear it, I’ll have him stand down for the moment. Are we still on schedule?” He’d plotted their escape route with Wolf’s SEAL team providing support out of sight, if he never needed to call them in then it was better. France was still an allied country and they were making moves that flew against general convention. Wagner signed off on only a portion of the plan.

  “For the most part, and sorry about the delay. Migraine got me.” Admitting weakness didn’t sit well with any of them and the traumatic brain injury he’d suffered seemed a weakass reason to have to take a medical discharge—but more than his vision had been affected. He dealt with the stress, and he moved on. It was all he could do.

  The other man huffed a breath. “There’s a reason I advised you against taking this assignment.”

  “And I had my reasons for taking it.” They’d argued point and counterpoint on this already and Jacko didn’t plan to rehash it. Too many of his friends and retired members of his team had found themselves on the sidelines of this particular issue—including Wagner’s sister who thought he was just in the navy and she had no idea about his second life.

  Tex had.

  Tex and Jacko both.

  “If I’d known it would put you back in the action, I might not have told you.” A nominal way of saying he had regrets.

  “I’m where I need to be,” Jacko replied, hoping he got the message. Playing with Coco was one thing, but Jacko would rather leave all that touchy feely shit to the others. “I’ve been out of the game long enough to not be recognized on sight, and even if they run a background—I’m not a good candidate for recruitment.”

  “Man, that’s a great plan for a cover—except your cover is true. How’d you hang onto the package while you were out?”

  Jacko cut his gaze to Coco. Her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. She was either sound asleep or giving a damn good approximation of it. “She watched my back.”

  After a beat of silence, Tex chuckled.

  “What?” Sometimes, their sense of humor didn’t gel.

  “Nothing. You’ll figure it out soon enough. Check in when you reach the safe house. We’ll make sure your exfil to London is cleared. It’ll be easier to bring you both back stateside from there.”

  “I hate this shit,” he admitted to the one guy who would get it. As a SEAL, he’d done enough jobs that were on a need to know, missions which required he get in and get out. This was different—because he didn’t know who was trustworthy and who wasn’t. Ned sent him because he was outside the information chain, and Jacko looped Tex both because Tex had alerted him to Wagner’s shadowy government ops work, and because Jacko wasn’t entirely sure Wagner was trustworthy.

  “Preach,” Tex responded. “But you’re in it now. Nothing to do but get out in one piece.”

  “Roger that,” Jacko said by way of agreement. “I’ve tagged the package. You know, in case I need to reach out to lost and found.”

  “Good plan. I’ll keep an eye out.”

  That was all there was to it. The call ended and Jacko leaned his head back against the wall. He’d kill for the aforementioned burger, but he wouldn’t leave her alone in the compartment. Better for both of them if they stayed put, anyway. Checking the other messages at a glance, he didn’t need to respond to any of them immediately. Better to reduce how much time he spent on the phone—encrypted or not.

  What he’d said to Tex replayed in his head. Coco stayed with him. If she’d wanted to bail, she could have. He’d been unconscious, the brutal migraine left him more than a little hungover. The meds worked, better for him than they did for others. They were part of the reason he’d accepted the retirement even if he wanted nothing to do with it.

  Working with his friends kept his mind engaged and regular training kept his body fit, but in the middle of this mission he’d rediscovered what his soul craved. Action. Saving lives. Getting the damn job done.

  Speaking of jobs, he opened the laptop and waited a beat to connect to the satellite uplink. It was slow as fuck, but it would let him VPN into his home system and start a series of searches for Oddjob. Even with a dimmed computer screen, his eyes remained sensitive. As soon as he had the home systems running on the data points, he logged back out and shut the machine down.

  Closing his eyes, he pulled his glasses off before leaning his head back. Next to him Coco rolled onto her side, then her hand was on his thigh. Peering down through the dimness to the shadow of her shape, he blinked slowly. The blurred edges weren’t going away anytime soon. No matter how much he might wish it. Once upon a time, he could have read in light this dim. His best shots clocked in at targets over 2000 meters away.

  He probably couldn’t make the same shot with his glasses at 500 meters these days. It didn’t matter how much time he spent practicing at the range, or the adjustments he’d made to rifles or his own sidearm. His vision had gone to shit, thank you head injury.

  Covering her hand with his, he closed his eyes again and forced his breathing to regulate. He was awake, that was something. The meds were working and the tidal wave of pain which drowned him earlier had receded. Yet, he still stood in the shallows and only discipline and training let him push so far earlier. If he tried again this soon, he’d run the risk of going down for real.

  He didn’t want to leave Coco exposed.

  Tex hadn’t been wrong when he’d advised Jacko to stay out of it. But Jacko understood the situation, the threats Flint and Trudie had faced, and later the same threat which came after Brick’s girl Wanda. No, he had to do this. He needed to have their backs and if Coco had the answers, then he needed to get her somewhere secure so they could dig in and figure this out.

  “Wagner recruited me,” Coco said into the quiet, and he slit his eyes open. Hers remained closed, and she flexed her fingers against his thigh. The contact was both erotic and soothing. Maybe his scrambled brains had something to do with his body’s mixed signals.

  Saying nothing, he waited her out. Fortunately, she didn’t make him wait long.

  Exhaling a breath, she shifted to pull a pillow beneath her head better. The movement didn’t include taking her hand away. “You wanted to know who I was—I’m Wagner’s recruit. He handpicked me, talked me into this job…okay that’s harsh. He pitched the idea, and I went with it.”

  “How so?” He traced a line along the back of her hand, the skin was warm, and soft. Yet he’d seen just how much damage she could deal out.

  “You’ve seen my military record?”

  He had. “Dishonorable conduct discharge.” Though they’d been sketchy on the source of the discharge, or the underlying facts of her case. Tex hadn’t been able to drill down much farther than Jacko had. “It’s because they wanted to recruit you for the agency?”

  “I could tell you, but…classified and all that. So let’s just say, Wagner recruited me and I’ve honored my service, even with the black mark in my record because I was asked to do so.”

  “Ned’s a dick.”

  A laugh escaped her. “Tell me how you really feel.”

  “He’s a genuine assmonkey dickhead, but he was also a damn good Naval officer.” A damn good intelligence one. “He also sent me to get you.”

  “Which makes him a dick with a purpose.”

  Oh, he would have to save that for later. “More or less. Look, I was straight with you about the retrieval, and I’ll be as straight with you as I can going forward.”

  “They think I turned.” She didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.

  Cracking his eyes open again, he found her staring up at him. There was something ephemeral and fragile about her in the dark confines of the compartment with only the half light from an orange security light drenching the interior.

  “It’s why my handler went dark…that or Ewan is dead.”

  His face wouldn’t reveal his feelings, he’d had long practice at schooling his features to avoid such reveals. “Truth for truth?”

  Her hesitation stretched through the
compartment, a kind of icy isolation. Then she’d been in the cold, Jacko wasn’t sure how willing he’d be to share if he didn’t know Wolf and his team shadowed them. Or that Flint and the guys were at home. Tex was a button press away. He always had someone to back him up. Who had she had these last few weeks?

  “Truth for truth,” she agreed finally. “Who goes first?”

  “Ewan was found in Berlin a week ago. He’d likely been dead for three or more weeks. The autopsy was underway, but there’s a lot of paperwork particularly since he was there undercover.” Not the kindest way to deliver the information.

  Coco grimaced. “Fuck. Ewan and I never met face to face, not if we could help it. We used a series of dead drops if physical information had to be exchanged, sometimes I’d meet an intermediary who could handle the transport if Ewan couldn’t get to a dead drop in time, and we shared an email account.”

  “You logged in, wrote a message, left it in a draft. He logged in and answered the same way? Deleting as you went?” A quiet kind of subterfuge that could be easily buried on some generic server for some email only company in just about all parts of the world.

  “More or less. We wrote them in Klingon.” There was a faint tilt to her lips. “He loved that damn show, so I learned it as a joke during my first year under…believe it or not you can find the show on somewhere just about everywhere. It worked for us.” A twinge of sadness escaped in her voice, she tugged her hand away and rolled onto her back.

  “I’m sorry.”

  ‘Me too.”

  The quiet blanketed them and then she reached for his hand and he accepted her grasp willingly. “Agents here and overseas are being targeted.” Telling her that on the heels of revealing Ewan’s death was a shit thing to do. But one technique for getting information was to always keep an opponent off their emotional center.

  “I have an eidetic memory—if I’ve read it or seen it—I never forget it.”

  Fuck. Me. No wonder Wagner wanted her brought back and debriefed and not in the field. “Does he have a reason to think you’ve seen the names of all these agents? Or do you just have to hear them, too?”

  “No, that’s different. If I want to memorize something, I just read it a few times and then I can remember whenever I want. Just hearing something isn’t the same.”

  That would explain the emails.

  “Which is why the email contacts worked for me and Ewan. I could memorize logins and passwords. I never had to keep copies of the encryption codes or even a dictionary.” A hint of a smile flirted around her lips. “But I did see a few lists over the years. A name here, a name there and following Yuri and Eric…interacting in their circles. You pick up a few more. Then there are the various contacts you make.”

  A knot formed in his gut. “So you knew faces as well as names.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yep. So if you’re asking am I a valuable resource who could be weaponized? Then I have to say the answer is yes, as well.”

  Jacko didn’t want to ask the next question. Not opening the door didn’t save them, but once they ventured through it—there was no going back.

  “Ask me.”

  He shook his head. Everything about the scenario had troubled him from the beginning. Ned’s handling of the investigations, the fallout Trudi faced, that had dug its hooks into Flint. What happened with Wanda after she tried to walk away. Whatever Ned was in, he was in deep and Tex had been right, they might never know the full scope.

  It all tied into Coco, though. But Coco hadn’t been benefitting or living the high life. A sniper tried to take her out, then a five man team came for her. And they were there for her, not him. Only two of the five went for him, and while he wasn’t cocky, if he’d been the target they wouldn’t have focused so much attention on her.

  They’d also not been trying to help her escape. No, they’d wanted to kill her. Ned wanted her for what she knew. The bad guys, because fuck politics if they killed civilians without remorse they were bad, wanted her dead before she was extracted.

  Decided, he slid down on the bed and eased his free arm beneath her. When she curled into him and set her head against his shoulder, he stroked the hair away from her face.

  “I don’t have to ask.” Whatever the hell was going on, Coco had plenty of opportunities to turn. Maybe she played him, and maybe Tex would kick his ass for going for it right here, but Jacko trusted his instincts. “You aren’t a traitor.”

  “Just like that?” Disbelief etched every word.

  “Just like that,” he confirmed.

  “Why?”

  “Because.” He really had no other explanation for her. “You didn’t do it, and I stand by what I said before. I’ve got your back.”

  When she spread her fingers against his chest, he relaxed a fraction. “You’re just saying that because you want in my pants.”

  Lips pursed, he barely managed to rein in his laughter before saying, “To be clear, I want in your pants. I’m invested in the mission parameters that will require—but I believe you because of you, not what’s under those panties. I give you my word.”

  “Did you just raise your hand like you were giving the scout salute?” She raised her head, looking from the free hand he held up and then at him directly.

  “Maybe.” He grinned. This close, he couldn’t miss the way her lower lip glistened. Or how utterly kissable she appeared, blurred edges and all.

  “You’re insane,” she whispered.

  “Quite probably,” he agreed. When she dipped her head closer, he zeroed in on her eyes and her gaze wasn’t on his, but on his mouth.

  “I’m not kissing you,” she said.

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.” Despite the denial, she couldn’t hide the trembling in her arm or her sides where she pressed against him.

  “I understand.” It wouldn’t be prudent.

  “You were sent to bring me back. I still have a job to do. It would be a conflict of interest.”

  “I get it.” He did.

  Totally.

  The mission was everything.

  Cradling her head, he flipped them over so she was below him and he could study her. His head behaved, and tension corded his muscles. “You can’t kiss me…not until we’re both clear on what’s going on.”

  “Exactly.” She traced a finger along his cheek. “And you’re still recovering.”

  “I’ve had worse hangnails, but I appreciate the thought.” He tracked his thumb along the column of her throat. “I’d never compromise you.”

  “But I could compromise you.”

  Dropping his head, he whispered, “I don’t care.”

  Then he claimed her lips for the taste he hadn’t realized he’d been dying to take.

  Chapter 7

  The crash of desire slamming into her system when Jacko kissed her set her nerve endings on fire. The moment his tongue stroked hers, she sank her fingers into his shoulders. A part of her wanted to push him away, but she dragged him closer as he settled his weight against her. Need arced through her, and she lifted her knee to cradle his hips more effectively.

  When he lifted his head, she almost groaned aloud and pull him back down. But when he placed his forehead against hers, and his labored breathing echoed her own she sighed. “This is a bad idea,” she whispered.

  “Terrible,” he agreed. “The train is due in to the station soon.”

  Another laugh bubbled upward, she grinned at the smile he wore. “So my panties are safe?” At this point, she no longer gave a damn particularly with the weight of his erection pressing into her.

  “For the moment.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then trailed a series of smaller kisses to her ear.

  Every flick of his tongue sent a fresh wave of heat to ribbon through her system. The scrape of stubble on his cheeks to the sensitive flesh of her throat chased away the agitation of their current situation and left only curiosity—about him and where this was going.

  “But we’re not
tabling this forever,” he murmured against her ear before he sucked against her earlobe and a pulse traveled straight to her sex. She arched her hips, grinding against him. His groan answered her. “Vixen. Temptress. Sexy. Beautiful. Woman.” A nibble or a tug of his teeth punctuated every word.

  The tension wound through her and her nipples pebbled to hard points. They had on too many damn clothes for this. “I’m a temptress?” She slid her hands down his back and gripped his ass, squeezing it. Even through the denim it was corded steel. “You’re killing me here.”

  “I promise it’s going to be a really sweet death—three or four if I can manage it before my own.”

  Fuck.

  What a promise.

  Then he kissed to her throat and sucked against her skin. The bite of pain tangled with a seductive promise. Tipping her head back, she savored the harder suck. The clever bastard was giving her a very obvious hickey. Stamping her like property or maybe just staking his claim so they didn’t forget it. And for the first time in her life, she didn’t mind.

  Not mind? Hell she reveled in it. She slid her hands into his back pockets, even as she locked her leg against his hip. Stroking his erection with every arch of her body to grind on his threatened her sanity.

  But if he planned to leave her a damp, aching mess all turned on, with no dick to ride—well, two could play that game. He laved his tongue against the bruise he created before lifting his head to look at her. “You. Me. And at the very least several consecutive and uninterrupted hours.”

  “Deal.” The trained slowed as if aware of their promise and she groaned. He chuckled, nuzzling his face against her throat as he slid a hand along her bare thigh.

  “We do have time for a little promise of action.”

  Damn the temptation. She caught his hand, even as her inner walls clenched tight at the idea of feeling some part of him inside of her. The heat of his palm was almost scalding against her thigh. She ran a finger over the wedding ring he wore, amused by how turned on she was by that fantasy. “I’m not going to be content with anything less than all of it.” Shuddering out a breath, she pushed at his chest and looked at her watch. They had fifteen minutes—maybe twenty before they were in the station.