Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mason (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The 13)

by Anne L. Parks

  Just as long as his trip back in time still meant they would kiss like they had this morning. Mason knew it was wrong…but damn, it felt as right as anything he had done in his life.

  Riley, Holt, and Lance sat around the table, also, and Mason was ashamed he welcomed the back-up.

  “Jess, I gotta tell you, you are holding up better than a lot of people I’ve worked with who are trained to handle dangerous situations.” Holt smiled. The man had the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, and looked as if he’d forgotten to shave this morning. Even in the short time Mason had known and worked for Holt, he had come to realize Holt took his job very seriously—and personally—and would do whatever he could to rid the world of terrorists while protecting innocents.

  “Thanks, but I don’t feel very strong. Most of the time I feel as if I’m in a really bad dream I can’t wake up from.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Do the police have any leads on who murdered Caribbean?” She swallowed after saying her friend’s name. Mason’s heart squeezed in his chest. He knew she was hurting, and he hated it.

  “I’m afraid not,” Holt said.

  Jess’s shoulders slumped a bit, but she just nodded.

  “We’ve received information that Laura may be missing, also,” Riley said.

  Jess’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  Lance sat forward. “No one has heard from her. Riley has had her contacts at the CIA attempting to track her phone, but it’s turned off.”

  “She hasn’t been to work in the last two days, either, and hasn’t called in sick,” Riley said.

  “Two days?” Jess asked. “When did you find out about this?”

  “Not long after Ms. Meda’s body was found,” Holt said.

  Jess swung her gaze to Mason. “Did you know about this?”

  The air in the room chilled. “Yes.”

  Jess’s eyes turned dark and turbulent.

  “We asked Mason not to tell you until we had a chance to make sure she was actually missing,” Holt said.

  “Do you know of any reason she would leave town and not tell anyone?” Riley asked, turning the conversation away from Mason’s lack of humanity.

  Jess took in a deep breath and slowly released it. “If she was going to see her boyfriend, maybe. She usually turned off her phone so we wouldn’t bother her while they were together.” She looked down at the table. “They didn’t see each other often, so when they were together, it was usually somewhere out of town.”

  “Was there a reason for that?” Lance asked.

  “Yeah, her boyfriend is married. Caribbean and I hated the guy, and would give her shit about being with him. That’s why she’d turn off her phone. I think they went to someplace north of Warwick. She mentioned a cabin a couple of times. Someplace no one would recognize them.”

  “Do you know her boyfriend’s name?” Riley asked.

  “Justin Able. He lives in Providence. Owns a computer service business…Tech Geeks.”

  “Okay, we’ll talk to him—discreetly—as much as possible.”

  “I don’t care if you’re discreet. If his wife finds out—all the better. Just do whatever you can to find her.”

  “Why do you think she would leave without telling anyone?”

  “I’m sure she found out Caribbean…died. If she couldn’t get in touch with me, she may have decided to hide out. Have you checked her parents home?”

  “Yes,” Riley answered. “They haven’t heard from her since Thursday night.”

  Jess’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think the people who killed Caribbean have Laura, do you?”

  “We would’ve heard from them by now, if they had taken her. That said, it remains a possibility until we have confirmation that’s not the case.” Riley stood. “I’m going to get my guys working on the boyfriend angle, and see if we can find out anything.”

  Lance and Holt stood. Holt squeezed Jess’s shoulder as he passed. “Hang in there. I know there are a lot of unknowns right now, but it won’t be this way forever.”

  Mason tried to remain as optimistic as his CO, but there was only one way a terrorist organization would let go of this—when Jess was dead.

  And that didn’t sit well with Mason.

  He turned to Jess and forced a smile. “Ready to go work out?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He sighed, but knew he deserved whatever shit she was about to give him. “I couldn’t.” Lame excuse. A coward’s way out.

  “Yes, you could. You could have given me a heads up before I was blindsided today.”

  “When was I supposed to tell you?”

  “As soon as you found out?” Her voice raised an octave, and red flushed her neck and face.

  “You had just found out your friend had been murdered. By the time I found out, you were sleeping. What was I supposed to do, wake you up with more bad news, when I wasn’t even sure Laura was actually missing?”

  “Fine, but you could’ve told me yesterday.”

  “Again, I didn’t see you—awake—yesterday. And I wasn’t going to wake you up before I left just so you could worry about it all day while you were by yourself.” He took a deep breath and dragged a hand over his face. “I understand you’re pissed at me, but I really did have your best interests at heart. I didn’t want you to be hurt anymore than you were. If I handled it wrong, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I would’ve handled it any differently.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, pressed her lips into a fine line, and gave a short head nod.

  He turned around and led her out of the building, across a grassy area with a couple of picnic tables, and into the gym. Hopefully, some time working out some aggression would put her in a better mood. Not that he could blame her, but he was desperate to get back the Jess who looked at him with lust in her eyes, not murderous intent.

  * * *

  Jess pummeled the hanging bag. One other guy, Noah, was in the gym using the treadmill. Mason had introduced them before going back to his office. Most likely to get as far away from her as possible.

  Not that she didn’t think he deserved her scorn—at least some of it. He had kept a secret from her about her best friend. She got his reasons for doing so, but it still left a rather bitter taste in her mouth. She trusted him with her life, had opened up to him. Let him kiss her. And then she had to find out that, not only was her friend missing, but Mason had known for two days and never said a word to her.

  Her life was not her own. She had to have permission to do anything. An escort to go anywhere. And now, even the information she was given was at the discretion of those with all the power.

  The thing was…she had seen the pain in Mason’s eyes. He had obviously been stressed about not telling her about Laura. And she could admit he had been placed in a tough position. As much as Jess had been thrust into this situation, so had Mason. Three days ago, each of their lives had been vastly different. Mason hadn’t asked to be Jess’s protector and confidant. Yet, he was doing what he could to keep her safe, and struggling with keeping her sane, as well.

  She glanced at the clock on the wall. Going on an hour and a half. She had run on the treadmill for an hour, hoping that would work out some of the aggression, but it hadn’t provided enough physical pain. So, she had decided to use the bag, intending to imagine it was Mason’s face she was punching.

  But she wasn’t able to do it. Instead, she thought of the asshole who had set all the horrific events in motion. Daniel Forrester. Yeah, it was easy to imagine his face there. And she took great pleasure hitting him over and over until her fists were sore.

  Hanging the gloves on wall pegs so they could get proper ventilation, she entered the small women’s locker room and splashed cold water on her face and neck. A few white towels were stacked next to the sink. She grabbed one and dried off, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. Even her bronze skin was paler.

  A shower stall caught her eye in the mirror. She b
riefly considered taking a quick shower, but didn’t have any clean clothes to put on. Sort of defeated the purpose of taking a shower, just to get back into the same sweaty, stinky clothes. Crossing the grassy area, she pulled on the door Mason had taken her out. Locked.

  Crap.

  What the hell was she supposed to do? Go around to the front? Knock on the door and hope someone heard her. When she had gone through the room and out the door, no one else had been in there.

  “Locked out?”

  Jess glanced behind her. Noah was jogging across the space, a friendly smile on his face. He held his military ID near a black pad next to the door. When the lock clicked, he pulled the door open and let Jess pass.

  “Thanks.”

  Four guys were in the room—including Mason—with their backs to her, watching something on the huge flat screen that practically filled the entire wall. Jess looked at the person on the screen, and a wash of ice coursed through her veins.

  Laura.

  Her cheeks were tear-stained. One eye was swollen shut. Dried blood rimmed her lips. Beside her, a man dressed in black from head to toe, face covered, held up a large knife with what had to be a nine-to-twelve inch blade.

  “Speak to the camera,” someone said out-of-sight. Laura cringed and took a deep breath..

  “The U.S. Government, through the Providence Police Department, has ceased investigating the death of Daniel Forrester, and released the murderer responsible.” Laura’s voice cracked, and a steady stream of tears flowed over her cheeks. “The woman who shot Daniel in cold blood is Jessica Baylor. Being the coward she is, she has gone into hiding.”

  Laura paused and drew in a shaky breath.

  Jess’s heart pounded against her ribs. God, what have they done to you?

  “You have seen what happens when one of our brothers is killed—the blood of the ones you love is spilled. There is nowhere you can hide that we will not find you. No one that can protect you. No amount of blood we are unwilling to shed before you finally turn yourself over to us—”

  The man in black lifted the knife in the air, and yanked Laura by the hair. Her head fell back.

  Chapter 11

  Mason watched as Laura Townsend’s head snapped back. A shiver ran down his spine, and his stomach roiled. He knew what was coming.

  A gasp behind him made him look over his shoulder.

  Jess stood stock still, wide eyes glued to the TV screen, mouth open.

  Fuck!

  He caught a glimpse of the black blade as it sliced through Laura Townsend’s neck. Gurgling gasps filled the room as she choked on her own blood while it spewed from her open neck. The sound was inhuman.

  He grabbed Jess by the upper arms and pulled her into his chest. Glancing at the screen, he watched the knife make a final swipe. Laura Townsend’s body slumped to the floor.

  The man held her head, blood drained from the detached neck. A trophy.

  Jess slumped against him. “Oh, God,” she whispered, and then wretched.

  Pushing her backwards, he got her out the back door and onto the grass. She turned away from him, bent over, and vomited.

  He rubbed her back and held her hair as she choked on cries between heaves.

  “Shh, it’s okay, Jess,” he murmured.

  She whipped her head around, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and faced him. “It’s not okay!” She balled her hands into fists and slammed them against his chest. “It’s not okay! It’s not okay!”

  He stood still. Let her hit him. He would stand there as long as she needed, pounding on him until she could come to grips with what she had just witnessed.

  Tears streamed down her face and fell to the ground.

  “Why?” she screamed. “Why didn’t you save her? You should have protected her instead of me! She didn’t do anything wrong! It should’ve been me!” She battered her fist a few more times, and then collapsed into him. “It should’ve been me.”

  Mason wrapped his arms around her, and held her tight to him. Sobs wracked her body. Her cries filled the air. Every one of them drove a stake into his heart. He couldn’t take the amount of pain she was in. He felt it as if it were his own. She was mourning for her friend.

  Kissing her on the top of her head, he waited until her breathing was almost back to normal. He turned her so they could walk, but kept her tucked close into his side with a protective arm around her shoulder.

  “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go home.”

  * * *

  Yurik gripped the back of the young woman’s head, his gaze riveted on the movement of her lips sliding up and down his cock. Tension in his muscles felt like the taut strings of a newly tuned guitar. His body hummed in pleasure, testicles retracted into his scrotum, ready to fill her mouth and throat with his seed.

  There was no better sight than an eighteen-year-old sucking him off. Unless it was a virgin, pink and new, under him as he slammed into her for the first time. Yeah, that was also good. It was hard to find girls non- prepubescent girls that were still virgins these days. A sad reflection on society. He did not get any satisfaction from fucking little girls.

  But he had many customers who did. And paid top dollar for the pleasure of breaking the seal of a young girl. Those men had unknowingly funded the RRA.

  Yurik should write a book on how to fund a revolution. Sex and drugs. And weak men with hard dicks who would always pay top dollar for the best product.

  The muscles at the base of his cock contracted, and his climax was so fierce, a roar of satisfaction burst from his lungs. He watched as the young woman pulled her head back. Yurik clasped his hand over her mouth, forcing her to swallow his come.

  A knock at the door caught the girl’s attention. Her eyes were wide, and she tried to stand, her hand reaching for her cover. Yurik tightened his grip on her head.

  “What is it?” he called.

  His right hand man, Stefan Ivanko, opened the door. “Sir, you wanted an update on the situation in the U.S. regarding Nikolai.”

  Yurik gestured for the man to come in. He removed his hand from the girl’s mouth. “Go to my room. Wait for me in my bed. Understand?”

  The girl nodded, stood, and held her silk robe like a shield in front of her. Yurik grabbed her wrist, took the robe, and tossed it aside. He didn’t want her creamy, unblemished, young skin covered. “And bring the other girl—the one you came here with—I want to see how you work together.”

  Tears rimmed the girls wide, wild eyes. A warm feeling flooded Yurik’s chest. Fear was a heady aphrodisiac. His cock stirred to life. He smacked her on the ass as she walked away, the sound music to his ears. He watched as the pink hand print turned to a dark red as she moved to the door.

  Yuri exhaled, zipped his pants, and turned his attention to Stefan. “I trust you have good news?”

  “The live video feed of Ms. Townsend was transmitted, and as far as we can tell, received.”

  “And what of Ms. Baylor?”

  “Still no word on her whereabouts.”

  Yurik stood. Rage coursed through his body and lit every last nerve ending on fire. “There is no guarantee Ms. Baylor saw the video?”

  “No, sir. Should we release the video to the media?”

  “No. They will close ranks around Ms. Baylor even more so than they have. The Americans will be incensed, and demand the government step in. We cannot afford for Moscow to get involved. They have left us alone so far…I would prefer to keep it that way.”

  “What would you like to do, sir?”

  “Send a message directly to the source. What do we know about The 13, and their actions lately?”

  “We have received information from a trustworthy source that members are training somewhere near Acacias, but do not have an exact location.”

  “It is enough to know the general area for what I have in mind.” Yurik moved around to his desk and sat in the large leather chair. Stefan handed him a folder. Yurik flipped through the documents and smiled. “Call Alexei and ha
ve him set the charges, as we discussed.”

  If Ms. Baylor thought she could hide away, she was sorely mistaken. Yurik had what he needed to smoke her out of her hiding place.

  And he would be there when she did.

  Chapter 12

  “Riley, the team is about to go in,” Flaherty said.

  “On my way.” Riley grabbed her coffee mug and followed Flaherty out of her office, down the short hall, and into the Tactical Operations Center. Pulling her headset on, she adjusted the mic in front of her mouth. “Jake, where are you?”

  Captain Jake Cabot was heading up a team of three men sent to quietly get Alicia Baylor in and out of her home in Texas. Riley’s mother was sure to be the next victim of the RRA. Riley just prayed her team got to her in time.

  “Two clicks from the house. No activity in the past three hours,” Jake said into the comms.

  “No visitors?” She asked.

  “Not that we’ve observed. Vehicle is in the garage, but we have not had eyes on the target.”

  Fuck. That didn’t bode well.

  “Any lights on in the house?” Riley asked.

  “Mick says the kitchen and family room lights are on, as well as, the TV.”

  A little sigh of relief slipped from Riley’s chest. Maybe the woman was upstairs taking a bath, or doing crafts or something in another part of the house. Riley’s mother was a scrapbooker and could get lost in the activity for hours without realizing how much time had passed.

  Riley watched the video feed of the men entering the house, one behind the other, in a highly choreographed dance they knew by heart. Muscle memory. They cleared the house, but did not find Mrs. Baylor. That didn’t mean the woman had been kidnapped—but Riley couldn’t shake the rock that sat in the pit of her stomach and told her Jess’s mom was in serious trouble.

  Lance stepped beside Riley and grasped her elbow. She pulled the headset off the ear closest to him. His hot breath warmed her, but his words sent ice through her veins. “The training team found Laura Townsend’s body.”