by KaLyn Cooper
Ryker was angry Serena was with them until she started speaking in the local language at the airport. She also stepped up another notch when she flipped Ajax on his back to prove a point once they were in their adjoining hotel rooms, which were nicer than most in Africa.
After a decent night's sleep, the three of them packed light, carrying only what they could fit in a backpack, leaving their suitcases in the hotel storage. They had no idea when they’d be back to retrieve them. Ryker hoped they could quickly find their teammates, rescue them, and returned to the United States.
As Serena led their way through crowded streets on the outskirts of Addis Ababa, his senses heightened. When she walked down a narrow alley, he and Ajax exchanged a wary look. Ryker was not anxious to trust Serena, especially when she led them down a zone of death. They were boxed in on all sides with nowhere to hide…and they had no weapons.
The short hair on the back of his skull began to tingle. Nothing about this mission gave him comfort. In the SEALs, they planned, practiced, then practiced some more, before loading onto an airplane. The three of them were flying by the seat of their pants on this op.
Serena finally knocked on a door and seconds later it opened.
Ryker was shocked by the striking woman who quickly ushered them into the meager apartment. Although her tan clothes fit loosely, he couldn’t mistake the curvaceous body underneath. Khaki cargo pants were captured at the ankle, desert style, by well-worn calf-high military boots. Desert Eagles were strapped in each thigh holster. Her duty belt held everything his used to, from canteen to K-bar with not just one, but two, tactical knives, as it cinched her small waist accenting shapely hips. The sling of the M4A1 rifle she carried across her back neatly separated her large breasts. Definitely a full C cup.
Ryker’s mouth was already watering before he reached her pretty heart-shaped face. A natural blonde, he stared at nearly white eyelashes that encircled golden brown eyes made more pronounced with her light-colored hair pulled into a low ponytail. A few loose tendrils framed her face, softening the high cheekbones and slightly pointed chin. Even without a dab of makeup, she was remarkable, especially in contrast to Serena.
“Xena,” she said, extending her hand to Ryker. It was a damn good thing his mom had ingrained social courtesies into him because he automatically took her hand and shook it with a light squeeze. For some reason, his tongue didn’t seem to work. “You must be Ryker.” All he could do was nod.
She continued her introduction without adding a last name as she greeted Ajax and Serena.
Pointing to the small table with four mismatched chairs, she ordered, “Sit.” Their host handed each of them a bottle of water without asking. They dropped their packs and claimed a spot at the table.
Ryker was already over the day and it was barely noon. He felt like they had wasted hours and were no closer to finding his teammates. “Cut to the chase.” He scowled.
Xena shot him a glare that might have made a new recruit cower, but he’d served eighteen years in the Navy, most of them as a SEAL. Few officers could intimidate him.
Instead of shrinking away, he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Listen, woman, we’re here for one reason and one reason only; that’s to find the rest of our team and rescue them from whatever fucking hole the militants in this godforsaken country have stuffed them into. That’s if any of this intel is even legit.”
She set her elbows on the table and met his gaze dead on. “It’s legit. No need to get defensive. And I suggest you call me by my name, Xena. I don’t respond well to woman or any other condescending term.”
Matching her position, Ryker set his elbows on the table and leaned toward her. “Pardon me for my skepticism, Xena, but my brother and I have spent the last three months being lied to. We are in no mood for games, and so far, this entire mysterious mission has been nothing but one giant game in which we are the pawns. We don’t even know who the puppet master is. If you have details that will help us find the rest of our team, spill. If your job is to kill both of us in order to ensure we’re no longer a liability, get on with that. Now. No sense in prolonging the inevitable.”
Xena flinched at his last statement. “I can assure you, no one means to harm you.”
Ryker leaned in even closer. “And I can assure you, I don’t trust anyone.”
He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder. “Let’s listen to what Xena has to say.”
Ryker slowly leaned back in his seat, twisted off the lid to his water bottle, and sniffed its contents. He touched the edge with his tongue to taste it first before he took a swig.
It was Xena’s turn to roll her eyes. “I’m not here to kill you. If I were, you’d be dead. Rein it in, big guy.” She turned her attention to Serena, asking if they were followed.
“No one fucking followed us,” Ajax snapped and glanced at Ryker. Did she not know they were Navy SEALs?
“Good. Let’s get down to it. The other six members of your team have been split into two groups.” Xena looked at each face, cataloging the response.
Ajax groaned. Ryker knew his frown deepened.
“Yeah. Not ideal but it can’t be helped.” Xena shrugged. “According to our intel, your squad was set up that day three months ago. The Ethiopian rebels knew precisely where you’d be and when. They were to kill all of you before you could complete your mission which was to assassinate Kofi Tamru, the rebel leader. He wasn’t there, by the way.”
Ryker watched Ajax inhale slowly and fight his reaction. He hoped he had schooled his face as well.
Xena’s gaze flipped between the two silent men. “Your squad never stood a chance. You were surrounded. It was all carefully planned. But the moment the bombs went off early, the rebels panicked under the inexperienced leadership of Nebil Yared. They obviously had no idea about your backup squad until they got there. So, they moved in and captured the six men still standing. You two were dead weight and they didn’t have time to haul off injured bodies since the second squad was moving in fast.”
Ryker closed his eyes as though he could see the entire op going bad.
But he couldn’t.
He didn’t remember a fucking thing.
When Xena didn’t speak, he opened his eyes. She was staring at him.
As though he’d given her permission, she continued, “A band of Eritrean militants heard about the ambush and had hoped to find something of use. From what we’ve been told, the two groups got into a squabble, eventually agreeing to divide their spoils…so to speak. The Ethiopians took four of your men. The Eritreans took two.”
“Shit.” Ryker didn’t try to hide the curse.
“Like I said, not ideal.” Xena lifted her gaze to Ryker before shifting it to Ajax. “We need to rescue both groups at the exact same time or risk the others being killed. Yesterday, we discovered the two groups are talking to each other, deciding whether to kill all six or perhaps ransom them off one at a time to the highest international bidder.”
Fucking great.
Xena stood, grabbed two files from the kitchen counter, and returned to the deeply scarred table. She and Serena spoke in what must’ve been the local language before she handed one folder to Ajax. “The two of you will head to the Eritrean encampment in the desert. The details, your connections, and meeting points are all in that file.”
She glanced at Ryker. “You and I will head to the Ethiopian camp in the mountains.”
Ryker groaned the word great.
Xena slapped the file on the table and flattened her palms. She leaned in close to him. “An attitude adjustment would be perfect right about now. I’m here to fucking help you. How about you thank me instead of acting like I’m the one who’s going to slow us down?” She glanced at his belt line and accused, “Looks like you’ve been enjoying the comforts of home these past three months.”
He immediately felt gluttonous to the point his stomach rolled breakfast over. The grainy pictures of his teammates—skin and bones, beaten and bruised—flashed thro
ugh his mind. He had to rescue them.
His gaze raked over Xena. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? He glanced at Serena and remembered Ajax sprawled on the hotel room floor where she’d easily taken his brother down. Smirking, Ryker asked, “Can you flip me onto my back and pin me to the floor like Serena over there?”
Xena’s grin was just shy of evil. “And then some. Care to find out?”
He chuckled sardonically. “Not right now, sweetheart. Maybe later.” The idea of wrestling around on the floor with the gorgeous woman in front of him had a certain appeal.
Narrowing her gaze, she spat out, “Reminding you one last time, my name is Xena and I’m certainly not your sweetheart.” Sliding her glance to Serena, she asked, “You ready?”
“Wait.” Ajax gripped Serena’s forearm. “No offense, but surely you don’t intend to go with me?”
Serena jerked her arm from his grip. “Do I need to flatten you on your back again?”
Ajax sighed. “Look, I have no doubt about your ability to defend yourself against a would-be civilian attacker, but in no way am I taking a civilian—woman or man— into a combat situation with me. I’d spend all my time worrying about you, and we’d both get killed.”
“You have no choice, Ajax.” Serena yanked the file out of his hand and opened it. “See this? Right here? I know this region of the country well and you don’t. That’s why I’m here. That’s why you and I are going after the Eritrean troops holding your squad members. You. Need. Me.”
Xena looked directly at Ryker. “Ditto.” She headed for the counter once again, returning with two SAT phones, handing one to Serena. “Cell service sucks just about everywhere. You’ll need to keep this off as much as possible to preserve the battery and avoid detection. I’ve included a list of times we should attempt to make contact with over the next few days. If one of us is unable to respond at the designated time, try to be available at the next time so we don’t worry.”
Ryker stared at the file Xena still held in her hand.
“We need to get moving,” the blonde goddess announced as she headed toward the door. “I could only secure this location for a short time.” She glanced at Ajax. “You two have a driver two blocks east of here. Black car. Driver is wearing a blue ball cap. Get in the car without a word. He’ll take you to a helipad. You’re gonna need a lift into that region of the country.”
Ajax turned to Ryker and grabbed him by the shoulders. Pulling him in for a manly hug, his brother whispered in his ear. “Don’t get dead. I can’t take it a second time.”
“You either, brother. I’m looking forward to slamming back quite a few beers together when this is over. You better fucking be alive.” With two last slaps on the back, they stepped apart in unison. He watched his brother turn toward the dark-haired woman who seemed frail next to Xena.
“Let’s do this.” Ajax glanced back one more time and nodded.
Ryker fought the fear that welled up inside him. This couldn’t be the last time he saw his brother. They were both at the mercy of these two women and there wasn’t a damn thing either of them could do about it except pray they got out of this alive and rescued the rest of their team. Ryker would not accept any other option.
Chapter 4
Until Xena saw Ryker white-knuckling the oh-shit bar in front of the passenger seat, she’d paid little attention to the way she drove around the modern city of Addis Abaya. She drove like the native she was. Streets were four lanes wide but not defined by lines, so cars drifted to wherever they needed to be. Scooters zipped between moving vehicles and people often quick-stepped through fast-moving traffic.
This was Ethiopia. This was Africa. This was her world.
“Fuck, woman. Are you trying to get us killed?” Ryker said when cars on both sides of them tried to enter what she was declaring her lane.
“Laws of gross tonnage apply,” she quipped as she hit the gas and slid past both cars and around a truck, barely missing people who walked on the street rather than the sidewalk. But, she missed them. “This Rover is reinforced with steel. It’s bulletproof. Chill.”
“Where are we going?” He asked through clenched teeth.
Xena tossed him the file. Maybe if he was reading about the mission, he would ease up a little. “Eden. We need to gear up and I want to check in with my team.”
“I don’t remember seeing any city named Eden.” Ryker expanded the topographical map of Ethiopia.
She snickered. “It’s not a city. It’s my parents’ compound,” she explained as she made a left turn from the right lane to the blaring horns from the drivers in between.
Her phone rang through the sound system in the armored SUV. Glancing at the dash screen she groaned. “Hello, mother.”
“Hi, sweetie. I’m just calling to remind you that cocktails are at six and supper is served at seven. The vice president’s son has already arrived.”
Xena groaned. Again. “Mom, you know I hate those frat boys. Why is he back here so soon? Wasn’t he here a couple months ago?”
Completely ignoring her questions, her mother retorted, “Good thing there will be at least one hundred other people there for you to charm.” Her mother’s diplomacy was in full swing. “You know how I hate to go to these parties alone and your father is stuck in the Tigray region.”
“What’s he doing up there?” He hadn’t mentioned to her that he was going near the border with Eritrea.
Her mother huffed. “You would know much better than I.”
Xena giggled. “He and Stryker are probably killing a bottle of scotch telling each other lies about the good old days.”
“No doubt.”
“Can’t one of the boys go with you?” Xena hoped she could get out of this party. She hated state dinners, especially when they centered around Crawford “Ford” Sutton. His new BFF, Wesley Schultz, would be glued to his side. She mentally giggled. Yeah, his back-side, with his brown nose up the ass of the U.S. vice president’s son. She thought both of those young men were slimy.
“Sorry, sweetie.” Her mom didn’t sound sorry at all. “Larkin is over in Saudi Arabia working with their Air Force and Drake is in Djibouti meeting up with some old Army friends. I know you’re in town. Please don’t let me down this time.”
And there it is…the guilt trip.
Once. Only once had she committed to a party with her mother and didn’t make it. She’d had a good excuse. Well, not really. Falling asleep in a man’s arms after great sex would never be considered an adequate reason in her mother’s mind.
Xena looked down at the durable watch Drake had given her when she passed his version of special operations training. She could do this. She had just enough time to get to her mother’s house, become presentable, and be at the embassy in time for cocktails. She and Ryker could leave right after the dinner and make it to Eden before midnight.
“All right, mother, I’ll be there.”
“Hang on,” was all the warnings she gave Ryker before making a U-turn. “I’ll see you at five forty-five.” She was about to hang up when her mother spoke again.
“You’d better show up with a date if you don’t want to dance the night away with the frat boys.” Her mother was right.
Xena looked over at Ryker and gave him two rows of straight white teeth. “No worries, Mom. I have a date.” She then hung up on her mother.
“Change in plans.” She said to Ryker and his eyes narrowed. “We’ll head to Eden after the dinner. I need to be there.” She considered for a moment while she slithered through traffic heading to the northern end of the city. “Have you ever been to a state dinner before?”
Ryker raised one eyebrow. “I’m a Navy SEAL. Etiquette classes were not part of my training…but I know the napkin goes in my lap, not at my collar.”
Xena accepted his jibe and volleyed back, “Well, that’s a start.”
At one of the rare stoplights, she called the butler for her mother’s in-town house.
“Good afternoon. P
hilip House, home of Lynette Riggs, Director of the Office of East African Affairs for the United States of America. How may I help you?”
Xena loved his deep voice and the way his local accent colored English words. “Negasi, it’s just me.”
Before she could say another word, he interjected, “Let me guess—you’re running late for your mother’s party tonight. Shall I start a shower for you? Steam a dress? Plug in your curling iron?”
“Yes, to all the above.” Since the light was still red, she took the opportunity to assess Ryker. Damn, the man was built. She placed him at six-foot-one, hovering around two hundred pounds of solid muscle. His hair was trimmed close to military requirements, but the two-day-old scruff proved he wasn’t committed to that regimentation. At the moment, his brown eyes were throwing daggers at her. “My companion is going to need a tuxedo.” She gave him rough measurements. “Can you make that happen?”
“Certainly,” Nagasi replied with confidence. “What’s your ETA?”
“Five minutes.” She hung up without saying another word to the servant.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be back on schedule by midnight.” Although she may have sounded a little flippant, her statement was accurate.
Chapter 5
Ryker stared out the windshield at the skyscrapers that were swallowing up homes built a century before. Eight-lane highways dissected the city, but a right-hand turn would place you on a street so narrow two cars could barely pass in opposite directions. Steel and glass structures towered over brick buildings constructed so long ago the equatorial sun had bleached the exteriors nearly white.
Like any huge city in a third-world country, yards were nonexistent. Streets were not laid out systematically, so homes were often crammed and angled to fit into any small space.
As they approached a solid block wall twelve feet tall and topped with concertina wire, she began to slow. Ahead, the fence turned to black chain-link, opening the view so he could see a huge open space filled with green grass and palm trees. In the middle of the wide expanse stood a U-shaped white building three stories tall. Relief washed through Ryker as a huge American flag ruffled in the breeze.
