Intense: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by B. B. Hamel

  I felt like a kid at a fucking candy store. The whole van was full of tactical equipment: rifles, pistols, silencers, grenades, vests, even a bazooka. It was the wildest arsenal I’d ever seen in my life, all packed into the back of this van.

  Travis quickly selected a high-powered silencer sniper rifle. I picked out a smaller submachine gun with a silencer, an extra pistol, two hand radios for communication, and a belt of stun grenades.

  “Fine choices,” Gun said as we stepped back out of the van.

  “Thanks, Gun,” Travis said.

  “Anything for America.”

  We turned to leave, but Gun quickly ran in front of us.

  “Hold on, hold on. One last treat. Here you go.” He held out a folded up map.

  I took it. “This is?”

  “The power plant. Blueprints. Heard you were going there, so I snatched these for you.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Snatched?”

  “Stole, whatever. Want them or not?”

  I grinned at him. “Thanks.”

  He nodded, turned, got back into his van, and then drove off.

  “What a weird guy,” Travis said as we got back into the car.

  “Contractors,” I mumbled. “We’re always outsourcing to contractors these days.”

  Travis laughed as he pulled back into traffic and we drove off to battle.

  We left the car in an outcropping of trees about a half mile away from the power plant. We set off at a jog, heading closer and closer to the fencing line that surrounded the plant.

  The night was clear and cool as we moved. Even weighed down with guns and gear, we still were moving at a pretty brisk pace. I guessed Omar couldn’t move as quickly as we could, since he was dragging along Tara’s parents and whoever else he had in his group.

  That was the only advantage we had. They were stronger in numbers, though we were stronger in training. I had to hope that was going to be enough.

  Soon we made it to the perimeter fence. It was tall and topped with barbed wire, though that didn’t always mean you couldn’t get in.

  “Plan?” Travis asked.

  “You head left; I’ll head right. Radio me if you find an entry point.”

  “Roger.”

  “Switch your radio to six.”

  He nodded, fiddling with his radio. “Got it.”

  “Radio if you find something.”

  Travis melted into the darkness without another word.

  I set out, sticking low and moving fast. I didn’t know if Omar was inside already or not, so splitting up was a risk. If we stumbled across Omar’s group, or if he had left guards behind, we might be at a huge disadvantage.

  I couldn’t help but have nagging doubts. Alone in the dark, skirting along the fence, I kept thinking to myself how maybe I’d fucked up, maybe I’d picked the wrong target. But no, that picture in the motel had all but confirmed it for me. This was the only thing that made any sense.

  And still, as I moved along the fence line and saw nothing, those nagging doubts ate at me. I couldn’t fuck this up. I couldn’t fail now when I’d never failed at a mission before. Granted, this was very, very different from any other mission I’d ever been on, but it was also the most important.

  And then my radio cracked to life. “Captain, found a breach in the fence. Over,” Travis said.

  “Stay there. On my way. Over and out.”

  I clipped my radio to my belt and turned, heading back toward Travis at a fast jog, relief spreading through me. A few minutes later, I spotted him up ahead, crouched down next to the fence.

  I stopped and moved up next to him. He spread the fence wide open. “Someone cut in here,” he said. “Did a thorough job. Looks recent too. See how shiny?”

  I looked closely, and sure enough the links were shiny. “Okay. This is where they went in.” I pulled out my map. “We came down here.” I pointed. “That means we’re just about . . . here.”

  Travis nodded. “And look. Control room.” He made a direct line with his finger.

  “Shit,” I said.

  “Plan?”

  I thought for a second and then nodded. “You go this way, with your rifle. I’ll head in up this way. We’ll trap them here.”

  He nodded as I pointed. “Piece of cake.”

  I put the map away and then slipped in through the fence. Travis came on my heels as we ran across the space, keeping as low as we could.

  There was a single door ahead marked by a red emergency light. I couldn’t hear any alarms, so unless they had somehow disabled them, we were still in time. I pressed myself up against the wall as Travis gently pushed the door open.

  It moved inward with no problem. “Clear,” Travis said.

  We moved inside together into a long, dimly lit hallway. It was a service tunnel, meant for cleaning staff and maintenance crew. From the looks of the door, Omar’s crew has used thermite to cut through the heavy-duty lock.

  We got to the end of the hall. There was a T-junction there, and we stopped in the middle.

  “I leave you here, cap,” Travis said.

  “Got it. Good luck.”

  “Be careful. I’ll be watching.”

  I nodded, turned, and left. I heard Travis’s footsteps softly pad away from me, heading in the opposite direction.

  I knew I was getting close. I could feel it in my fucking bones. Omar was nearby, so fucking close that I could practically taste him.

  Up ahead was another door, this one unlocked and left slightly ajar. I guessed that Tara’s dad was opening doors from the inside with his clearance, which was likely his main purpose.

  I moved in through the door and stopped. Ahead, I heard something, footsteps. I ducked down a side corridor as two men turned the corner up ahead of me.

  I kept myself flat against the wall, hidden in the shadows. They paused briefly, looking down the hallway, and I saw the glint of metal in their hands.

  They weren’t employees of the power plant, unless employees carried guns.

  I took aim with my pistol and fired four shots in quick succession. My first two took the first man in the head, and my next took the second man in the head and the chest. Both men toppled to the ground.

  I moved forward and paused by them. Neither was Omar Hooth. I moved down the hallway, inching closer to the control room.

  I felt calm, like I was floating through the ocean. This was my natural habitat, living on the edge between life and death. I was a warrior in my element, and as soon as those first shots were fired, nothing else mattered.

  I came to the end of the hall. There were plenty of side doors I could have gone down, but I stuck to the map in my head. I knew that Omar and his men would be moving toward the control room, and that was something we wanted.

  I pressed myself against the door and peeked through the window. On the other side was a long hallway, and ahead I could see a small group of people moving forward.

  My heart leapt in my chest. That was Omar’s group, without a doubt, heading toward the control room. We were right behind them, barely a step back. If we had waited just a few more minutes, we might never have caught them.

  No time to worry about that. I unhooked a grenade from my belt, opened the door a crack, and rolled it down the hall.

  The grenade moved slowly toward them, making a clinking noise. One of the men turned and spotted it.

  “Fuck! Grenade!”

  I ducked down as there was a loud boom, deafening in its roar, and an incredibly bright white light spilled out from the window.

  It disappeared as soon as it had appeared. I waited a couple seconds and then pushed the door open.

  Bullets riddled the door around me, forcing me back. The men were firing serious rifles, and the bullets bit through the metal and the wood all around me. I peeked again and saw the group moving farther down the hall, and I didn’t bother trying to return fire yet. The two men in the back were spraying my end of the hallway with bullets, not even aiming.

  As the group go
t to the end of the hall, I made my move. I took aim and fired a few shots, catching the one man in the chest. He stumbled back and I fired again, hitting his skull. Blood sprayed back as he collapsed onto the floor.

  The group retreated through the door at the end of the hall, slamming the door shut behind them.

  I moved into the hall, sticking close to the wall, my gun up and ready. I made it to the door and pressed myself against the wall. I took the radio from my belt.

  “Travis,” I said. “In position. Over.”

  “Roger that, cap,” he said. “I can see the buggers. Over.”

  “What do you see? Over.”

  “It’s Omar all right. The parents are there, looking scared but fine. Six other men, serious firepower. Over.”

  “Fire when ready. Over.”

  I could hear the joy in his voice. “Roger that, cap. Over and out.”

  I took deep breaths, waiting. This was the plan, what we’d wanted the whole time.

  I was never meant to stop them from getting to the control room, but I was supposed to slow them down if I could and eventually herd them in there. Unfortunately, I was too late to slow them much, but I was able to thin the crowd a bit while Travis got into position.

  The control room was built in one far wall overlooking the core. Around the core was scaffolding for maintenance crews to do routine fixes on the core itself. There wasn’t any radioactivity in that room, only deeper down beneath the shielded concrete layers.

  That scaffolding was perfect for a sniper. The control room’s front was all glass and totally exposed. We’d never have known this if it weren’t for those blueprints, and I mentally thanked that strange little man.

  I heard the first shot. Well, not the shot, but the accompanying panic. There were shouts as Omar’s men tried to find cover from Travis’s bullets, but there was nowhere to go.

  The door flung open and three men stumbled through. I killed the first two easily, my bullets tearing them to pieces. Their bodies fell on top of the third man, and so I was forced to get up close. He fired back at me, missing, hitting the ceiling as I kicked away one of the bodies and plunged my knife into his heart.

  I whirled, gun ready, as the man beneath the bodies expired. Nobody came out, but the shouts were still happening. I looked in through the window and saw Omar’s group scattered, down to three men, the parents, and Omar himself. They were pressed up against the wall, and it looked like Travis couldn’t get a line on them.

  But I could. I kicked open the door and fired at the thugs, killing two instantly as I rolled, coming up behind a control console. They returned fire, but it bit uselessly into the steel panels.

  “Hold your fucking fire!” Omar yelled out. “You fucking idiots!”

  The gunfire ceased.

  “Is that you, Emory?” Omar called out.

  “Omar Hooth, so nice to finally meet you,” I answered.

  “And you have a friend out there with a sniper rifle, yes?”

  “I think the bodies are proof enough of that.”

  “Seems we are at a standoff then.”

  “Standoff? Seems that I have you all cornered.”

  “Ah, but we have hostages.”

  “Don’t worry about us. Kill them,” Tara’s dad yelled.

  “Ignore the dumb American,” Omar said. “I think you and I should negotiate.”

  I came up fast, gun aimed, and killed the last thug. I dropped back into cover before Omar could return fire.

  “I don’t negotiate with terrorists, Omar.”

  That left just Omar and Tara’s parents. The threat was done, but her parents weren’t out of danger.

  “Do you want to save these two civilians?” he asked.

  “Give it up, Omar,” I called out. “Your men are dead. You’re trapped in this room.”

  “Yes, so I am. But I am prepared to die, and to take these Americans with me. Are you prepared, Emory Rush?”

  “Enough talk. Let them go.”

  As I moved up to check on them, I heard something rolling toward me. I looked down, wide-eyed, as a grenade stopped near me.

  “Fuck,” I said, and covered my body.

  The explosion was loud and the light was blinding, but it didn’t physically hurt me.

  It was a stun grenade, just a stun grenade. It was meant to confuse and to blind, but not to kill.

  But Omar was meant to kill.

  “Goodbye, you bastard. This is revenge for my family.”

  I dove forward, rolling blindly. I heard Omar curse and stumble as I moved wildly.

  And then he screamed in pain. I kept rolling as my senses slowly came back to me, the room going from a fuzzy blur to full resolution.

  Omar was on the ground, clutching his shoulder, bleeding. His gun was just out of reach.

  I got to my feet and kicked the gun away. I grabbed my radio. “He’s mine,” I said into it and then tossed the radio aside.

  Omar grinned. He stood up slowly, one arm bloody. “Look at you, wanting to fight an injured man.”

  I slipped my knife from my sheath. “You’ve caused me a lot of problems,” I said, “and now I’m finishing this.”

  He pulled a knife from his belt and growled. Omar was tall and broad, strong in the shoulders and chest. He was an ugly bastard, and he came at me viciously.

  I fended off his attacks, our knives slashing through the air. Our bodies twisted and moved together as he came at me, attacking violently and savagely.

  He shoved me back and I slammed against a console. I blinked, twisting away from a slash, and realized that my eyes were still fucked from the grenade. I blinked and ducked, fighting off more slashes, twisting to my side. I gave up more ground as Omar came at me like an animal.

  He needed to make this fast. He was bleeding, and soon his strength would give out. I couldn’t see well, my depth perception slightly off, but I could see well enough to stay out of his reach.

  We moved like that, knives flashing. Omar was slowing and my vision was coming back, slowly but surely.

  He lunged at me, stabbing out fast. I used my left arm to sweep his attack away, locking his elbow, and I shoved my shoulder into his chest, forcing him back. I released his arm and he stumbled, off balance.

  I kicked out, catching his knee. He swiped wildly and caught my thigh with his blade, sending pain searing up my leg. I didn’t stop though, just kept moving forward. I blocked his knife again and shoved, sending him stumbling. I followed that up hard, stabbing and slashing at him, forcing him back, back, back.

  He kept it up, fighting hard, but he wasn’t watching his footing. He stumbled on his own gun, and I knew I had him. I took the opening, my knife biting out like a snake, and caught him in the neck.

  I pushed it farther in, looking into his eyes. He looked surprised as I let my knife go, leaving it buried deep in his throat.

  He fell to his knees, bleeding, and collapsed.

  It was fucking over.

  I felt someone next to me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Tara’s father. I looked at him. “Fine,” I said. “The plant?”

  “Nothing bad,” he said, and he quickly went to the control. “Most of this is fried, but I can get it back under control.”

  “You mean it’s melting down?”

  “No. Not yet. It would have if you hadn’t gotten here sooner.” He began to press buttons, typing at a computer monitor.

  I leaned up against a wall, breathing deeply.

  We were out of the water. Omar lay dead at my feet and everything was over.

  Tara’s parents were safe. Her mother was still huddled against the wall, looking terrified, but she was alive. Her father worked hard at the console, but I had total faith in him.

  I called Travis on the radio. “We’re good to go,” I said. “Threat is neutralized. Over.”

  “Nice fighting there, cap,” he said. “I’ll call Blackfire. You get those people out. Over.”

  “Roger that. Over and out.”

&nb
sp; I felt tired, so fucking tired. Exhaustion ran through my whole body, and all I wanted to do was fall onto the floor and sleep.

  But a SEAL’s job was never over until it was completely over.

  I wasn’t going to ever give up or walk away. I was a SEAL for life, even if I wasn’t actively working as a SEAL.

  Because the only thing I wanted was Tara. This was my biggest achievement. I’d averted an enormous disaster, saved hundreds of thousands of lives.

  And after this, I wanted to live my own life. I wanted to finally have the freedom to be with the woman I wanted, I claimed, I loved. Tara and Mason, the only two people I needed, the only two people who mattered.

  I pushed up off the wall, feeling my strength returning, and pushed forward, Tara’s smiling face in my mind, excitement coursing through my body.

  I knew it was only going to get better and better.

  Epilogue: Tara

  One Year Later

  I laughed as Mason stumbled across the room and fell into my arms. I swooped him up, marveling at how big and heavy he’d gotten.

  “Mommy,” he said, grinning at me just like his father.

  “Good job, Mason,” I said. “Now go play.” I put him back down and he tottered off toward his toys.

  I sighed, smiling to myself and looking out the large, glass, back sliding door. The sun was shining brightly on our backyard, and I wondered if the tomatoes we’d planted would be coming in soon.

  I couldn’t believe how much had changed in the last year. After everything with The Network had happened, I thought we’d never be able to pick up the pieces and restart our lives.

  Sitting alone in that hotel room was probably the hardest thing I’d ever done. I was powerless, totally helpless to save anyone.

  But one of the best moments was when Emory came back, followed by my parents.

  I could barely understand how I felt in that moment. It was a mixture of joy and relief and much, much more. I’d really thought I might never see my parents again, and there had been a strong chance that Emory wouldn’t be coming back either. I knew I couldn’t follow his last orders, that I’d stick around and wait for him no matter what.