Crossroads 6: Love Undercover (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 1
Crossroads 6: Love Undercover
Sacha Smith is out for justice. They killed her partner and half of the undercover team. The rest are being held hostage and are about to be executed, but Sacha escapes with a microchip that can help take down the terrorists' entire operation. She's running for her life and needs to find someone she can trust to help her get these things to the United States, but she's injured and stuck in a foreign country with no backup.
Sacha can't trust anyone, not even her commander or her government, because this mission was strictly off the books, unknown to anyone but her team and two other men. So she contacts the only man she knows she can trust, her brother Franco. Sacha has a feeling she knows who he'll call, but she doesn't have time to think about past emotions and a love triangle gone badly. She needs to survive, and saving the Unites States of America from another terrorist attack has just become priority number one.
When someone Sacha thinks she can trust tells her that the three men who saved her are really working for the bad guys, it becomes a game of love undercover. She never expects to lose her heart or to love so deeply, but will she have to lose her life to save them?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense
Length: 40,940 words
CROSSROADS 6:
LOVE UNDERCOVER
Dixie Lynn Dwyer
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
CROSSROADS 6: LOVE UNDERCOVER
Copyright © 2016 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer
E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-025-8
First E-book Publication: January 2016
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Epilogue
About the Author
CROSSROADS 6:
LOVE UNDERCOVER
DIXIE LYNN DWYER
Copyright © 2016
Prologue
“This situation just keeps getting worse and worse. First, our contact is a no-show, and now we’re in the middle of a fucking dessert city and the location has changed on our terrorist cell. I don’t like this. Shit is getting screwed up,” Spence, Sacha Smith’s team leader, stated aloud while he was going over information from informants.
“Listen you’re the one that said this operation was a sure thing. That all our ducks are in a row and we have six other agents in that fucking building right now. If you think this is a set-up and that your informants are working for Black Out, then we need to pull this operation now. Otherwise, I’m heading in to do my part. I will help Charro get the evidence we need from that office. You need to handle the other shit,” Sacha said as she gave him a firm expression.
“We need as much evidence as we can get, or else we’ve got nothing, and if we get caught, these men loyal to Black Out will torture and kill us.”
“I know.”
He stood up and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t be the one to be doing this. It’s not even your job.”
She raised her hand up. “I was trained for this, and it’s not like I’m not experienced.”
“But these men are different, Sacha. You can’t let them capture you. The things they’ve done to people, to women and children who stood in the way of their cause.”
“I don’t plan on getting captured.”
He let his hand fall and exhaled. “Anya should have been here by now. It’s becoming clear that she didn’t make it. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Yes, and it makes it even more important and crucial that I go in there. These men, the ones who are part of this terrorist cell, need to be identified. We need specific faces of the masterminds behind this. Not just their front men. This is our last chance, or the mission is a wash. We head home, and these people get away with succeeding in whatever it is they have planned. I can do this. Plus, Charro has the more difficult job. He has to get into that building and get to that safe and find those documents.”
“Be safe, Sacha, and when this is over, you and I need a sit-down. Just the two of us.”
Her belly tightened, and she saw that expression in his eyes. He liked her. He wanted them to be more than just co-agents, friends, but there was just something about him that didn’t make her see him in that way at all. Plus, he seemed kind of weak in some ways, and she wasn’t even certain how he’d gained this position with the agency, but it wasn’t her problem. She’d worked her way through having to prove herself to way tougher men and leaders than Spence. She just wanted back into the United States where she would feel a lot safer and could move on to the next case.
That made her think about Cha
rro. Now him she could see herself falling into bed with. But not now while partners on a mission. Maybe when all was done, and things were normal, she could let him know she could spend part of her time off with him. The thought both scared her and frightened her. She did alone better. Once there was a connection, a bond with people, leaving them became a heartache and losing them was part of being a soldier. Mates just didn’t stick around between missions. She’s seen it hundreds of times.
This situation was supposed to have been resolved weeks ago. She was ready to go home. She didn’t feel confident about the last twelve hours of this operation at all. But she had to see it through. It was her job, and she would make sure she did a hundred percent, no matter what.
It was times like this that she wished there were someone in charge who had guts and more experience. Spence had been a desk guy for most of his career. Sacha had been in the middle of the heat since she’d entered the Marine Corps at twenty. She’d followed her father and brother Franco’s footsteps, and not a day had gone by that she regretted it. She loved her country, and she had talents and abilities that became assets to this special unit she belonged to.
Certain missions appealed to her or, rather, honed in on her patriotic side. This terrorist cell, Black Out, was one of many. What made them key to stop was their ability to remain hidden and undetected and the chatter from reliable sources that claimed Black Out was going to strike a series of locations in terrorist acts that would kill innocent women and children.
There was some chatter in the last several hours that indicated information on thumb drives or other evidence proving who these men were. They had nothing but false identities thus far, and she was still not certain that these men were from Kabul. Something told her they were from somewhere else.
It was believed that the thumb drives and microchips contained maps, times, locations, and the names of people involved with the group. It was a copy, made by an undercover operative who’d planted the materials in this safe. The problem was that they weren’t the only ones looking for these copies. Members of Black Out were, too, and they were closing in. So much so that several other soldiers in her team needed to be placed in strategic positions to intervene while Charro got to the room and the safe. The sons of bitches were closer than they realized, and because they’d waited so long, they would all be risking their lives for these thumb drives and chips. Charro was furious, and so was Sacha.
But she had his back. She knew this was a last chance. She would succeed. It was what she lived for and why she’d become a Marine and a secret operative.
She adjusted her veil and then the traditional garments worn by Pakistani women. They were in Kabul, about to enter an event at a local meeting center and hotel. Their surveillance team was in position at the venue with eyes on four main members of a terrorist cell who surprisingly had ties to the United States. What they’d uncovered in the last twenty-four hours had Washington demanding proof and some exact locations of weapons of mass destruction and militant training facility locations. Sacha was going in to confirm, document, and basically identify other key players and locations while the team in the hotel and center kept watch on their suspects. She was going in with Charro, a very intense and valuable asset to their team. He knew where the office was they needed to infiltrate and where these microchips and thumb drives were.
The problem now was that Spence couldn’t confirm the pickup spot for all of the team for one hour from now. She heard him yelling into the phone in the native language. Then he slammed it down as she prepared to leave. She looked at her watch. She was running out of time.
“I’m going. I’ll wait for you guys where we planned.”
“If something changes, and you’re not there by eight, I’ll get to Balochistan, and we’ll meet up.”
“Where?” She pushed the map to him. This hadn’t been in the plans. What the heck? Before she could question it, he was pulling over the map. It was the wrong one. He was not good at this at all. She looked at the map and the location of the small town near the dessert and mountains. She pointed. “There. It’s a small bus depot. Only gets a few busses in and out a day. Are you sure about this?”
He held her gaze. “Don’t worry. Everything will end here in Kabul and we’ll be on our way.”
She nodded. “Good luck and see you in an hour.” She headed out.
As she made her way along the streets, she kept her gaze down and wouldn’t make eye contact with anyone. Five minutes later, she arrived at the building and entered the small gathering.
Her heart was racing, her palms sweaty, but her job was easy. She was a cover for Charro as he headed upstairs and did his thing.
As she came toward the meeting point, she waited and waited, but Charro never arrive. A quick glance at her watch and she knew the window of opportunity was closing. They needed those chips and thumb drives. She glanced around and inconspicuously climbed the stairs. She got to the office and pushed open the door. She was in a panic. Where had Charro said those thumb drives and chips were?
She glanced at the closed door and then headed to the desk. She looked though and then remembered something about a safe and a key in the top drawer of the desk.
She pulled it opened, got the key, and then looked around for the safe. Turning, pushing things aside, she saw the curtain and then a picture. It was crooked. Could it be?
Her hands were shaking as she lifted the picture and saw the safe behind it. She carefully placed the picture on the floor and then used the key to open the safe.
“Bingo,” she whispered, seeing the thumb drives, the microchips, and an envelope with more stuff in it, plus gold. She closed up the safe, put the picture back on the wall, and was placing the key into the drawer when she heard something going on right outside of the door.
She stuffed the envelope into her shirt under the gown. She reached for her gun and got down low behind the desk. She was going to get caught. She was going to die here and so was the rest of the team if she didn’t get these things out of here and to a safe location.
The door opened, and three men came barreling in, holding Charro. They started slugging him and yelling at him in their language. She heard what they were saying. That they knew about the others at the party, that they were dead, and he was next.
They said something about another agent and wanted to know where the thumb drives were. What other agent?
Charro was trying to resist them, and then she made her move.
“Let him go,” she yelled at them.
The one guy turned to shoot, and instinctively, she shot him. The next guy went to shoot, and she shot him, and then Charro got the third guy around the neck from behind and snapped his neck. He fell to the ground.
“Did you get the stuff?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here. It’s just us, Sacha. The others are dead.”
“Are you sure?” she asked as he took the guns from the guys and handed her one of them.
“Yes. Someone gave up the operation and identified the others. We need to get the hell out of here.”
As they headed down the hallway, men appeared and started shooting. She and Charro shot back, blasting their way through them and down the back stairs. They exited to the outside and heard the yelling, people pointing and giving up their location. They ran faster and then went into the darkness.
“What do we do? Head back to the meeting spot?”
“We check it out first. Don’t show our faces. They could be watching. My cover’s blown,” he said to her when suddenly the street where they were lit up with gunshots as men came running out of the building.
She and Charro fired. They took out a few of them, and then Charro said to run. She did as he said, and they ran for blocks and then headed toward the crowds of people in the streets and the vendors selling items.
People screamed, trying to get out of the way of gunfire. She followed Charro and kept on him close. It was only them. They ran so fast and c
ame around on the other side of the street vendors.
“We should backtrack and see if the others made it, just in case.” He looked at his watch. “We have five minutes to get to the meeting spot for the pickup.”
“Okay. Whatever you think.”
He grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “We were set up. I didn’t get halfway down the hallway before those guys came out and grabbed me.”
“How do you think they found out?” she asked him.
He released her arms. “Come on,” he said, and she followed. They stayed close to the walls and in the shadows. “It had to be someone on the inside.”
They approached the end of the buildings where the street corner was. A block down the way was the bus terminal. It was crowded and hard to make out the individual people.
“I don’t see anyone, do you?” he asked her.
She was looking all over and at all the faces. “It’s too damn crowded.”
He looked at her. “Put the veil up. Cover yourself good.” He rechecked his weapon, put in a new clip, and she did the same with hers. She had one additional clip on her.
Charro stared down into her eyes. He cupped her cheek. “I should have spoken to you sooner about getting out of this shit.”
She squinted at him, not understanding what he was saying but feeling that attraction she always had to Charro. They spoke often on the downtimes, about his friends, about how he wanted her to meet them. The things he said, and hinted about, were intriguing, but could she give up being a Marine, a special operations intelligence officer?
“When this is done, you and I are going to explore these feelings we’ve both been ignoring. Then I’m taking you to meet my family.”