Resurgence

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Resurgence Page 1

by Rebecca Deel




  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  About the Author

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  About the Author

  RESURGENCE

  Rebecca Deel

  Cover Design by Melody Simmons

  Copyright © 2017 Rebecca Deel

  All rights reserved.

  #

  To my amazing husband, the love of my life.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Veronica Miles drew in a ragged, painful breath. She twisted her hands, feeling for play in the ropes holding her suspended from the ceiling of the dank stone cell she’d occupied for an unknown length of time. Might be one day or a year. No windows in this hole to help her distinguish night from day.

  One thing she did know. She had been here too long. Had someone missed her? She must have missed her check-in by now. Was anyone looking for her? Veronica shoved the panic welling inside behind a mental brick wall. Of course someone was looking for her. At the very least, her handler knew she was MIA. He would spread the word of her disappearance.

  Warm liquid trickled down her arms. While the ropes binding her hadn’t loosened despite repeated attempts to free herself, she was losing more blood. What she wouldn’t give for a sharp knife.

  Water, too. Her lips were split from repeated slaps to the face and lack of water. She desperately needed fluids. Yeah, she’d get right on that as soon as she freed herself.

  Raising her head to take in the dim surroundings took a shocking amount of effort. If she managed to free herself, how would she escape the room? She didn’t have a weapon or lock picks handy, and she was weak.

  She made it a practice never to lie to herself despite the fact she was a consummate liar for her job. Veronica knew to the marrow of her bones if she didn’t free herself in the next 24 hours, she would die in this cold room at the hands of ruthless men who wanted information she wouldn’t provide. To break would cost another man his life, one who had suffered horrendous wounds at the hands of creeps like these. He deserved better. She wouldn’t be the weak link in a chain leading to his death.

  The question she wanted answered was how these thugs tracked her down. She’d been careful to keep her role in the previous mission a secret and her current assignment was in a different part of the world. How did they find her?

  Later. She would figure that part out later, after she was free and safe. Veronica scanned the room again, searching the shadows for anything to use as a weapon once she freed her hands.

  Her heart sank when she realized there was nothing. No furniture to take apart. No eating utensils since her captors didn’t feed her. Fine. She’d dredge up enough strength to fight hand-to-hand. Wouldn’t be the first time she saved herself. But she had never been so broken and bruised. In her current weakened state, this fight might be her last.

  Regret swelled at the realization she wouldn’t meet the Fortress operative whose life she’d saved months before. His strength and courage in the face of the injuries he suffered called to her as nothing else had in her life. From the reports, he had returned to full operational status. She wanted to see his face, assess his recovery herself, and know that she had made a difference in someone’s life.

  Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside her cell. Veronica froze, hardly daring to breathe. She bit back a moan when she realized the footsteps headed her direction.

  She had a reputation in the DEA of being an ice queen, a woman with no feelings. Her fellow agents didn’t know the real Veronica Miles. If they did, they would have never believed the falsehood. Veronica felt too much. Showing weakness made you a target. She wasn’t a victim anymore despite her dreams each night.

  She wanted to laugh, considering her circumstances. She hadn’t been a victim for years until she was captured by these goons and turned into a punching bag for them to vent their rage and frustration.

  Focus. She had to focus if she wanted to survive the next encounter with Interrogator. As the key unlocked the door, Veronica willed herself to stand tall with her head raised to face her captor. She would never spill the information the creep wanted so badly. To do so would hasten her death and turn a good man over to this pack of wolves.

  The cell door opened and a shaft of bright light temporarily blinded her. She refused to look away from the large shadowed figure now entering the room.

  “Still with me, I see.”

  That gentle, silky voice would haunt Veronica’s nightmares for the rest of her life. If she survived, that is. The contrast between someone with a smooth, cultured voice doling out vicious beatings was stark. Made Interrogator all the more horrifying.

  “You are a strong woman, Ms. Miles.” A pause. “I like a good challenge.”

  That was her, all right. A challenge. Her own father viewed her the same way. He had never beaten her into submission. This thug sure wouldn’t. The price of failure was too high.

  “Are you ready to cooperate now?”

  His crooning voice sent cold chills racing over her aching body. How could pure evil sound so gentle? Veronica stared at Interrogator, mute in her defiance.

  “I suppose not.” Interrogator shook his head with a sigh. “You’re making this more difficult on yourself. Tell me what I want to know and all your pain will stop.”


  Right. He’d end Veronica’s misery by killing her.

  “I brought something special to encourage you to change your mind.” Interrogator showed her the velvet bag in his hand before he turned to close the door. “I’m told by our other guests that I’m particularly skilled with this tool.”

  She refused to take her gaze from his. What was the point? She would find out soon enough what he had in mind for her. She prayed she was strong enough to endure. If she broke, the operative she was protecting with her silence would die.

  He laid the bag on the ground and reached inside to pull out a whip. Although an instrument of pain and torture, the whip was beautiful. The supple leather sang as Interrogator snapped the leather on the ground in front of her.

  Veronica kept her face blank although dread pooled in her stomach. Oh, man. The next few minutes would be excruciating. She’d been on the receiving end of her father’s belt too many times to count growing up and still had the scars to prove it. How much more damage would an actual whip do?

  “Ah, I see you recognize this.” His chuckle echoed in the stone chamber. “One last chance, Ms. Miles.” He moved a step closer. “I’d rather spend my time with you in much more pleasurable ways.”

  Veronica remained mute.

  A broad smile stretched his mouth. “As you wish. Before I’m finished, you’ll be begging to give me the information I want.”

  She tried to keep Interrogator in her sight, but he casually strolled behind her. Veronica twisted her bound wrists, desperate to free herself and face her tormentor. Useless effort, like the other times she tried. The ropes attached to the rings in the ceiling were spaced far enough apart that she couldn’t turn. All she could do was wait for Interrogator to begin his work.

  She didn’t have to wait long. The whip cracked. Pain exploded across Veronica’s back as her scream echoed in the stone chamber.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A tropical breeze blew across Adam Walker’s face, the humidity bad even in this early morning hour. The wind did nothing to cool his overheated body in his black uniform.

  He activated his mic. “Report,” he whispered to the black ops team moving into position to breach the compound looming in the darkness. His gut tightened as he awaited the responses from the Shadow unit. The group of four men and one woman were aptly named. They melted into the shadows.

  “In position,” Nico Rivera, the unit leader, murmured. Rivera hadn’t been happy to cede leadership of this mission to Adam. Tough. Adam owed a debt to Veronica Miles. Her information had saved Adam’s life when he’d been captured by a drug lord. She also saved the lives of the Fortress CEO’s family. Fortress owed her big.

  One by one, Trace Young, Joe Gray, Samantha Coleman, and Ben Martin checked in. Relief filtered through Adam. His gut screamed at him to move, that Veronica Miles was in serious trouble.

  He forced himself to hold position until the timing was right. Moving too soon would get them all killed and leave Veronica in the hands of men who would torture her for long days before killing her. “On my mark.”

  Adam waited in stillness until the guard rounded the corner. “In five,” he whispered in the comm system. They had watched the guard’s rotation long enough to time the rounds and check for blind spots, the window of opportunity short, but workable.

  When he judged the timing to be accurate, he said, “Go.”

  The Shadow unit left no sign of their passage through the danger zone. When the guard rounded the next corner, Adam slipped from the darkness of the forest and, with swift and soundless steps, crossed the open expanse to the darkened corner of the compound wall.

  He dropped flat on the ground behind a thick bush. Their informant’s intel had been spot on. The window to the storage area in the basement was big enough for Adam to slip through. Barely.

  Grabbing his glass cutter, Adam attached the suction cup and made a hole large enough to reach inside and unlock the window.

  He’d almost completed the circular opening when a door five feet away opened. Adam froze. Light spilled into the courtyard, dispelling the shadows he and the Shadow unit needed to work in safety.

  A man’s laughter rang out as he stepped outside into the early morning. “She won’t give you trouble tonight, Fritz. I made sure of it. I’ll be back later today to continue my interrogation. A good day’s work on my part. The woman will give me the information I want during my next visit. She’s close to breaking. Now, however, I have a date. My woman has been waiting for me for hours and she is not patient.”

  “Yes, sir. What do we do with your guest while you’re away?”

  “Every thirty minutes, dump a bucket of cold water over her.”

  “Sir?”

  “Just do it,” the boss snapped. “You don’t have to understand my methods. If my orders are not carried out to the letter, I’ll know and you will take her place. In case you’ve forgotten, I do enjoy my work.”

  “Yes, sir.” A mixture of anger and fear filled the underling’s voice.

  With another laugh, the other man climbed into a luxury car parked in the driveway and cranked the engine.

  As the vehicle purred to life and left the compound, the remaining man uttered vicious oaths in the direction of the retreating taillights. Winding down, the thug spun on his heel, stomped into the house and slammed the door.

  Fury filled Adam’s gut. What had these men done to Veronica? From the words uttered by the boss, at least she was alive. If the woman they talked about was the missing DEA agent.

  He returned his attention to the window. “Thirty minutes between visits to the target,” he whispered to the unit assisting him in the rescue.

  “Copy that.”

  Made their timing even tighter. Adam and Nico had to find, free, and remove Veronica from the compound before the next visit by the thug.

  As the clock ticked in Adam’s head, he wondered how soon the thug would make his first visit to Veronica to carry out his orders. This clown might not know why he was supposed to dump water on the agent’s head twice an hour, but Adam did. Sleep deprivation, keeping her on edge. Yeah, he was very familiar with the routine. Special Forces soldiers were trained to resist interrogation. He figured Veronica had been trained, too, though not as well as Adam.

  He removed the circle of glass, slid his arm inside, and unlocked the window. A moment later, he dropped lightly to the concrete floor in a storage room full of boxes. He eased the door open a crack.

  The lights in the hallway were dimmed, which suited Adam’s purpose well. No one was on guard duty in the hall. “Moving into the hall,” he whispered into the comm mic.

  “On your six,” was Nico’s reply.

  Adam had twenty minutes to free Veronica and leave the compound before the thug was scheduled to visit her. He scowled as he moved into the open with soundless steps. If the creep stayed on schedule. Something in his voice as he talked to his boss told Adam he wouldn’t stick to the time line.

  Didn’t matter. Adam would handle any obstacle thrown at him. Veronica Miles wasn’t dying on his watch.

  If the intel Maddox received was correct, the DEA agent was being held prisoner in the third room on Adam’s right. His jaw clenched. This was no ordinary basement. The place reminded him of the subterranean chambers where he’d been held and tortured by drug lord Peter Collins. A cold stone pit where he thought he would die. His sister and his friends from Fortress had rescued him with help from Veronica. He intended to return the favor.

  Adam twisted the knob, wasn’t surprised to find it locked. He pulled out his lock picks and went to work. Seconds later, he opened the door wide enough to slip inside a room lit by one dim bulb in the ceiling.

  His heart clenched at the sight of the woman suspended from the ceiling by ropes tied around her wrists. Her head lolled against one upraised arm, dark hair covering part of her face, her breathing shallow and labored.

  Despite the bruises, Adam recognized Veronica from the picture Zane sent him. “Target in sight,�
� he whispered to the team.

  “She alive?” asked Sam, Shadow unit’s medic.

  “Barely.”

  “Nico?”

  “Stay with the plan.”

  “Copy.”

  Adam crossed the expanse of the room. “Veronica, can you hear me?” he murmured. He saw the instant she became aware she wasn’t alone in the room and began gathering her strength to resist further torture.

  And the boss thought this woman was nearly broken? The guy was an idiot. The DEA agent was nowhere near the breaking point. “I’m with Fortress Security.”

  Her eyelids lifted a fraction, assessing him. A second later, she gave a slight nod of acknowledgment.

  Excellent. He moved a step closer, Ka-Bar in hand. “I’ll cut you down. Hopefully, we’ll be gone before someone comes to check on you.” Adam reached up to make the first slice when Nico’s voice stopped him.

  “Tango approaching.”

  His eyes locked with Veronica’s. “Company,” he whispered.

  “Go. Run.” Panic flared in her eyes.

  He cupped her cheek, barely making contact, afraid of causing her more pain. “I won’t leave you here alone.” By the time the key was shoved into the lock, Adam’s back was pressed against the wall beside the door, knife still in his hand. This clown couldn’t raise an alarm if Adam and the team at his back were to complete this mission with minimal bloodshed.

  When the door swung open, Adam shifted enough to keep Veronica in his sight as well as the slim man now entering the room carrying a large plastic bucket. His lip curled in disgust. The creep was fifteen minutes early.

  He set the bucket down. “You’re awake.” He reached behind him without turning and closed the door. “Good. You ready to talk yet?”

  “What do you think?” Veronica kept her gaze on her captor.

  A low chuckle. “That’s what I figured. The boss thinks you’re ready to tell all. I know better. You need more persuasion.”

  Persuasion? Adam’s eyes narrowed. What kind of persuasion? From what he’d seen in the lousy lighting, the boss had beaten Veronica repeatedly in an effort to obtain the information he was after. What did this guy think he could do to convince her to talk?

 

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