The Mammoth Book of Special Ops Romance

by Trisha Telep

  Jaymie gritted her teeth. The child could be a needle in a haystack. Over the comm, she’d learned a couple of days ago that Brick was certain he’d spotted the kid through a window on the northern side of the building. Jaymie had thought she caught a glimpse of blond hair through the same window on that day, too.

  Around the building were two sets of thick-linked fences with rolls of barbed wire along the inner and outer ten-foot high fencing. At each corner were tall metal outposts, each with two armed sentries.

  “In thirty,” came Casper’s low, casual drawl. Anyone who knew him would have no idea that he was about to wreak havoc on the place big time.

  Jaymie shielded her eyes with her hand and slowly counted down the seconds. At the exact moment she ticked off thirty in her mind, an explosion rocked the grounds.

  The entire compound went dark.

  A roiling ball of fire shot to the sky and sparks jetted from the flames providing enough light to let Jaymie see the sudden pandemonium. Black smoke boiled from the ground along with the flames. The IED that had just taken out the compound’s main generator had obviously done its job.

  Cries and screams echoed in the jungle, coming from the group of buildings. Men shouted out orders in Spanish while others screamed.

  Another explosion blasted the night. More flames shot up to the sky, the sound so loud she wanted to put her hands to her ears. Instead, she maintained position, her heart pumping blood as if the fire had turned to liquid in her veins. She forced herself to breathe as she waited for Brick to give the order to the men to move in.

  Jaymie blinked in surprise when the compound’s lights flickered – and came back on. Dimmer, but they were working.

  She frowned. The second explosion should have taken out the back-up generators.

  Now, in the light provided, it was easy to see men rushing to surround the perimeter of the fence, their rifles pointed towards the jungle.

  Damn. Dark Force’s main advantage was totally gone if they couldn’t take out all the lights.

  “Hold on tight, kids,” came Casper’s drawl inside her ear through the comm. “You might want to cover your ears and close your eyes.”

  Jaymie barely had time to lower her rifle to obey before light scorched the night, lightning bright even through her closed eyelids. Thunder from the third explosion sounded as though her hands weren’t even muffling her ears.

  “Good to go,” Casper said in his usual casual voice.

  Jaymie’s ears rang as she opened her eyes to see the compound was dark again, with the exception of more light from flames shooting towards the sky in the huge jungle clearing.

  She pulled her night-vision goggles down, careful to avoid looking at the flames, and gripped her rifle tight again.

  “Synchronize.” Brick’s voice was strong over her earpiece.

  Boy was he going to be pissed when she came out of the jungle with the rest of them. But he was too professional to let it distract him, so she wasn’t worried about diverting his attention from the mission.

  She glanced from the darkened but chaotic buildings to her watch as Brick continued his countdown in a slow, measured tone, “Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one.”

  Jaymie clenched her jaw as she brought up her rifle. At the same time she pushed herself to her feet and bolted for the compound.

  Three

  Rage flowed through Brick as he charged forwards. He focused through his night-vision goggles as he squeezed the trigger of the M-4 rifle and took out as many of Chavez’s men as possible.

  That son of a bitch – Chavez’s right-hand man – was going to die for what he’d done. For daring to kidnap Brandon in order to draw Brick out.

  When Brick got too close to the buildings for the M-4 to be effective, he slung the rifle over his shoulder. At the same time he drew his Glock.

  Spit Andersen shot out of the jungle on Brick’s left. Brick felt no surprise as Jaymie drew up on his right. The depth of his feelings for her, feelings he’d refused to acknowledge, were shoved even further aside. Now was not the time to be thinking of Jaymie in that way. In any way but as a valuable member of Dark Force.

  He tried to be pissed that she hadn’t obeyed him. Truth was she’d be an asset tonight whether he wanted to admit it or not.

  Brick didn’t have to look at Spit to know he was levelling a large grenade launcher at the double fences.

  The hollow thumping sound of the launcher was nearly lost in the chaos.

  With the next explosion, Brick squeezed his eyes shut for a mere second to avoid the glare in his goggles. He didn’t stop running. He blinked and had the satisfaction of seeing gaping holes through both fences, thanks to the grenade launcher.

  Brick gripped his Glock in both hands and fired at two more of Chavez’s men. Since Jaymie was there, he knew that his back was covered as he ran through the yawning wounds in the fence straight towards the main house. He’d rarely seen anyone who could shoot as well as she could. Spit, also a superior marksman, nearly as accurate as Jaymie, would keep things clear behind them.

  Adrenaline surged through Brick and his insides felt as if his entire being was strung tight. He and his teammates fought their way through the darkness, the night-vision goggles giving them a big advantage.

  When they reached the main house, Brick headed straight for his target. Sure as hell, he knew he’d caught a couple of glimpses of Brandon through the window during the torturous week of recon.

  Brick had wanted to rescue his nephew every time the black ops team surveyed the compound. He knew better than to rush things and risk getting the kid killed. After their last day of recon and a run-through of each and every drill, Brick had been satisfied they’d recover Brandon alive.

  Once his nephew was safe, Brick would find that bastard, Mark Flynn. He’d make sure Flynn never fucked with anyone else’s family ever again.

  One of Chavez’s men rounded the corner of the house, his sights set on Brick. But in the next instant, the man crumpled to the ground as Jaymie put a bullet into his head.

  When they reached their target destination, Brick pushed his night-vision goggles up on top of his head. With fire still consuming some of the outbuildings, he focused on the small barred window. Flames reflected on the glass making it difficult to see inside.

  Jaymie and Spit stood with their backs to him, covering him from all sides. Regardless of the ear-splitting chaos of the night, he identified every report of their weapons.

  It took some effort to keep from worrying that something would happen to Jaymie. He had to acknowledge that she was just as competent, tough, intelligent and capable as his other teammates.

  Brick stuffed his Glock in its holster and slung his rifle from his shoulder. He still couldn’t see inside. Damn. He wanted to make sure he didn’t hurt the kid.

  He got as close to the window as he could and shouted, “Stand back”, hoping he could be seen. Or at least heard.

  After retreating a step, Brick gripped the rifle, raised it and slammed the butt between a pair of bars and through the window’s glass. It shattered – not bulletproof, thank God.

  “Brandon!” he shouted through the bars, hoping to hell his nephew was in there. “It’s John.”

  “Uncle John?” came the boy’s voice. Relief poured through Brick. Brandon’s terrified face came into view. He sounded even more scared than he looked as he added in a stutter, “I . . . I can’t believe—”

  Brick shot a quick glance over his shoulder before looking back at his terrified nephew. “Are you alone?”

  Brandon nodded. “Yes.”

  Brick searched the room with one sweep of his gaze and spotted a bed. “Get under the bed,” he ordered. “Have to blow these bars and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

  Brandon didn’t hesitate. He ran to a far corner of the room, dropped to the floor and vanished beneath the bed while Brick took a small, but always effective, explosive device from his belt. Unlike an IED, this device was far more accurate
and controlled.

  Brick didn’t bother to look over his shoulder again to see what was happening behind him. Jaymie and Spit were taking care of business.

  “Down!” Brick shouted at the pair as he set the explosive on the windowsill and pressed the button with the mere three-second delay.

  He was a good ten feet from the house and dropped on to one knee, turning his head slightly away as the explosive blew. When he whirled to face the window, through remnants of smoke, he saw the bars were history and the former window was nothing but a gaping hole.

  Brick looked around them. Chavez’s men were everywhere, but Jaymie and Spit still had he and Brandon covered.

  Brick rushed back to the house. “Get out, Brandon,” he shouted into the room when he reached it.

  The boy scrambled from under the bed and ran for the window. He jumped out so fast that his weight slammed into Brick, forcing him to step back despite being three times the size of the boy.

  Brick released the child. No time for even a small reunion. “Stay close to me and as low as possible. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  Brandon gave a short nod and attempted a small show of bravery that Brick knew was for him. “Yes, sir,” he said at the same time he crouched low beside Brick.

  Sweat rolled down Brick’s face from the heat of the flames. His T-shirt clung to his skin beneath his body armour. They shot any of Chavez’s men who came into sight. Brick’s heart pounded as he aimed the handgun and gripped the trigger time after time.

  Once they made it through the gaping holes in the two fences, Jaymie, Spit and Brandon sprinted beside him across a barren clearing, towards the jungle.

  Just before they reached cover Spit shouted and dropped. Jaymie came up short, like she was going to go after Spit. Even in the darkness Brick thought he could make out the bluer than blue shade of her eyes

  “Take the boy. Head for cover.” Brick gave Brandon a slight shove towards Jaymie. “I’m going after Spit.”

  Jaymie’s nod was sharp, her expression grim. The boy didn’t pause as he dashed to the jungle beside her.

  Spit was motionless on the ground. Brick put his fingers to Spit’s neck and felt the man’s strong pulse. Out cold, but alive.

  Shots speared the night as Brick grabbed Spit under his arms. The bullets were close, way too close. Brick dragged the former Navy SEAL into the cover of the jungle.

  When they were hidden by thick foliage, Brick shoved up his night-vision goggles. By the light of the flames, he saw Spit wake and grimace, but the man didn’t make a sound.

  Through the cover, Brick caught glimpses of Chavez’s men at the compound. It looked like they’d organized what remained of their ranks and were about to head into the jungle.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Brick said over his comm. “Chavez’s men are headed our way.”

  Thank God all of his team responded in the affirmative, including Jaymie. Meant no one was down but Spit.

  “Where are you hit?” Brick asked his teammate.

  “I’ll live.” Spit sucked in his breath. “Took one in my thigh, I think close to bone.” Spit spoke through gritted teeth. “Bullet got me in the back, dead centre. Knocked the breath out of me but that’s it.”

  Brick ripped strips off his T-shirt and hurried to tie a tourniquet around Spit’s thigh and the blood-soaked fatigues.

  “We need to get our asses back to base.” Brick jerked Spit to his feet. “Thunder and Casper should make it back before we do with you holding us up.”

  “No fucking kidding.” Spit had already turned and made his way through the forest, barely limping despite the wound. Tough son of a bitch.

  Shouts came closer and a bullet zinged and buried itself in a rubber tree next to Brick’s head.

  “The kid with you, Taylor?” Brick said to Jaymie over his comm while he busted through the foliage.

  “Yes,” she said over the comm to the sound of gunfire, her breathing sounding a little rough. “We’re sure not hanging around.”

  Brick kept up with Spit and covered their backsides as they headed to base.

  Four

  “Thank you, Uncle John.” Brandon crouched by the fire, early morning light showing the dust and ash on his cheeks.

  Jaymie glanced from uncle to nephew, noting the strong resemblance. Brandon was going to be even better looking than his uncle, without all the harshness of Brick’s nature and features.

  Brick sat on a rock near the campfire, not looking at his nephew. He ran his palm down his stubbled face before looking at Brandon and shaking his head. “I’m the one who got you into this mess. You don’t owe me one single word of thanks.” He nodded towards each team member lounging around the campfire, including Jaymie. “The team deserves mine.”

  Thunder, Spit, and Casper each shrugged or gave Brick a casual “it’s no big deal” look.

  “You would’ve done it for any one of us,” Thunder said in his rough voice. He pushed himself away from the palm tree he’d been leaning against. “So don’t start that gratitude shit.”

  Brick studied Jaymie with tired, irritated eyes. Boy, had she given him an excellent black eye.

  He got to his feet, his torn black T-shirt exposing the flat tanned skin of his abs. He focused his gaze on Jaymie. “Come on,” he said as he turned his back on her and started walking into the jungle.

  A slow burn travelled through her body, heating her face and causing her scalp to prickle. She was so tempted to ignore the big ass, but she had to face him sooner or later and she never was one to procrastinate.

  “Sure.” Jaymie tried to keep her tone and her expression cool as she got up from the rock she’d been sitting on. She dusted sand from her backside, as if that would do any good considering they were camped out on a beach.

  By the looks on the faces of the other black ops team members, they knew Brick was pissed and intended to let her know it. Jaymie swallowed and followed him into the dimness of the jungle.

  As they made their way deeper into the foliage, the potency of his presence seemed to envelop her and she could almost feel him inside of her.

  Idiot. She wanted to bang her head against a tree – maybe a coconut would land on her head and knock sense back into her.

  She had no idea why he was going so deep into the jungle. All he needed to do was get her out of earshot of the campsite.

  When they were a good 100 yards from the campsite, Brick turned to face her, his arrogant features grim and unyielding.

  Jaymie raised her hands before he could speak and imagined herself wringing his neck. “I’m there every step of the way with this team no matter what the mission is.”

  He stood in front of her, like a battleship anchored in stormy seas. His expression flickered with something she hadn’t seen from him before – and she wasn’t sure exactly what it was.

  She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, wanting to clock him. Again.

  Then his features softened, just slightly, but she’d never seen him look anything less than tough. He dragged his hand down his face and met her gaze.

  “I—” Brick cleared his throat, but kept his eyes locked on her “—owe you an apology.”

  Jaymie blinked. Then she blinked again. Brick was apologizing? “For not letting me on the team,” she stated.

  “No.” Brick shook his head. “I was wrong to leave you off the team but I had my reasons. But that’s not what I’m apologizing for.”

  Before Jaymie could comprehend what this big man was saying, he continued, “I was an asshole for what I said to you yesterday when we—” He cut off his sentence like he didn’t know how to finish it. “Worse than an asshole.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “That’s never been in question.”

  Brick approached her and she stood her ground, even when he raised his hands and gripped her shoulders. Warmth travelled from his palms throughout her body.

  His jaw tightened. “The reason I said what I said is the same reason I didn’t want you to
go on this mission.”

  Her confusion grew. “I’m not following this conversation.”

  “I’m in love with you, Jaymie.” Brick’s grip on her shoulders increased as her jaw dropped. “I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. The mission was too dangerous.”

  Jaymie felt like she’d just fallen into quicksand and it was sucking her in, fast. She’d been an undercover CIA operative for eight years, a mercenary for six months. Nothing on earth could have prepared her for what Brick was telling her.

  “I thought that maybe if I . . . if I had you . . . that it would make these feelings go away.” He started moving his hands up and down her upper arms. “Maybe it was just lust. Shit.” Brick released her arms and dragged his hand down his face again. “I know I fucked everything up yesterday.”

  Warmth grew within Jaymie’s chest and the weighted feeling that had been in her body grew light, pleasant. He locked his green eyes with hers again.

  “That’s crazy, Brick.” She started to smile, started to tell him what was inside her heart when she saw an expression of anger cross his features.

  The too-familiar click of a handgun sent harsh tingles down her spine.

  “Nice,” came an unfamiliar voice from the foliage behind Brick. “Brick Sanders has yet another Achille’s heel.”

  Brick’s scalp prickled and a sudden rush of adrenaline sent his pulse racing.

  Flynn.

  It took every bit of Brick’s SEAL training to keep his body loose and prepared to get out of what was about to become a fucking mess. How the hell hadn’t he caught on to Flynn’s approach until it was too late?

  Jaymie. His feelings for her had caused exactly what he’d thought it might – distraction. He didn’t meet her eyes. Instead he looked over her shoulder and saw two men ease out from behind their tropical cover.

  Three on two. Not bad odds providing Flynn didn’t just shoot them.

  Brick couldn’t hear Flynn move, but he sensed that the man was getting closer. Flynn had been one of Brick’s closest friends at one time, when they were both Navy SEALS. Not any longer.