Special Forces_Operation Alpha_Cheating the Devil_A Deimos/Trident Security/Delta Team Crossover

by Samantha A. Cole

  Once she knew she had enough space to work in, she inched her way back to Lori, and found her foot. Since the injury was on her left side, Avery worked her way up the younger woman’s right until she was behind her. “Swivel to your right a little and then lie on your back as best as you can. I’ll support your back as you ease down.”

  “Okay . . . Oh, fuck, shit, damn, motherfucker!” Lori barked between growls as she got into position. By the time she was supine on the floor, she was panting from the pain. “Arrrghhh! Shit! Hurry!”

  Carefully, Avery felt her way down Lori’s head, face, and chest, trying to avoid touching her arm or shoulder until she had too. “This is where it’s gonna start hurting—well, worse than it is. Take a deep breath.”

  When she heard the ragged intake of air, followed by a second, she threaded her bra under Lori’s forearm, then shimmied the two ends of the garment upward until it was snug in her armpit. Muttered curses and gasps came from Lori’s mouth, but she was doing pretty well, considering. Sitting down, Avery brought her right knee to her chest and laid her left leg alongside Lori’s injured arm. She set her right foot on top of Lori’s shoulder, as close to her neck as possible, and wrapped both ends of her bra around her hands to make sure she didn’t lose them in the process. “All right, Lori. Here we go. I’m going to push down with my foot and pull up hard on your shoulder.”

  “Just do it!”

  Avery shoved down with her foot and yanked with her arms in one combined motion. Lori shrieked as her shoulder moved and popped back into place. Letting go of the bra, Avery never had a chance to ask the other woman if she was okay, because the door flew open, slamming against the wall, bright light filtering in, temporarily blinding both of them. A bald, Asian man, standing about six feet three, with broad shoulders and a semi-automatic in his hand, shouted at them in Chinese. Although it had been a few years since she’d last had a conversation, beyond a sentence or two, in the Mandarin dialect, she understood the curses and demand to know what the fuck was going on. She responded in the same language, uncertain if the man knew any English. “She’s injured,” she stated, as if that explained everything, but the resulting expression on the man’s face told her he didn’t care. “Where are we? Why are we here? Who’s in charge?”

  “That would be me,” another voice said in Mandarin, as a man from her past rounded the door jamb.

  Avery’s eyes and nostrils flared. Oh, shit on a stick. This isn’t good.

  “Hello, Ms. McNamara. I never thought I’d say this, but it’s a pleasure to see you again.” His sneer said otherwise. It’d been over a decade since anyone had called her by her undercover name. It felt so surreal to hear it now. She’d met Lin Chao at several political functions during her time in China. Even if she hadn’t already known what an evil person he was, at the time, she still wouldn’t have liked the man. He was one of those narcissistic bastards who thought all women were beneath him unless they were on top, fucking or sucking him.

  Standing, she channeled her old persona, her back straightening in defiance. The last person she’d ever expected to walk through the door was the father of the man she’d assassinated on her last op. Lin Chao and his eldest son had been on Deimos’s watch list in the months leading up to the moment Avery had ended the younger man’s life. Even though both men had been cunning and smart, Delan had had a cruel streak with even loftier aspirations than his father. The US government had learned Delan had been making connections within several Middle Eastern facets—including Al Qaeda and ISIS, the latter still in its infancy but growing quickly. Where Chao had been greedy, Delan had been greedy and deadly. His affiliation with known terrorist groups made him a threat to American troops and citizens and had sealed his fate. “Lin Chao. Well, well, well. I thought you were exiled to the South Pole.”

  “Bitch.” He backhanded Avery, knocking her to the floor as Lori, who was still sitting, gasped.

  Yeah, it probably hadn’t been a smart thing to antagonize the man, Despite the pain exploding throughout her face and head again, Avery got to her feet and put herself between Lori and Chao. So far, the latter hadn’t even acknowledged the other woman’s presence beyond a dismissive glance, and Avery wanted to keep it that way. She had to keep them both alive long enough for Brad to realize they were missing. Once that happened, he was sure to call Haven, who would know to activate the tracking device in Avery’s shoulder. She’d never been so happy for the tiny piece of technology that had been embedded under her skin. It’d been years since she’d thought about the foreign object she prayed was still operational.

  “You’ll pay for your crimes. You’ll suffer until you beg for your death. Then you’ll suffer more until I finally grant your wish.” Chao snapped his fingers. “Take her to the other room.”

  The tall, bald man stepped forward and snatched Avery’s upper arm, pulling her toward the door as if she weighed nothing, while Lori struggled to her feet. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her loud voice was tinged with confusion and fear. “No! Leave her alone! Why are you doing this?”

  Chao switched to English. “Shut up, and I may let you live. This doesn’t concern you, but I have no qualms about disposing of you along with this murdering cunt.”

  He turned on his heel and followed his minion and Avery out the door. Glancing over her shoulder and seeing the disbelief and terror on Lori’s face, Avery raised her voice as she was dragged around the corner of the door jamb. “Lori, do everything they tell you! Stay strong! Don’t give them any reason to hurt you! It’ll be okay!” As she was led to God knew where, she prayed they’d both get out of this alive.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Jase, this is Brad and Cameron,” Carter said, keeping the introduction brief in his three-room suite at the resort. “It’s their women who are missing.”

  Over the past two hours, they hadn’t learned anything more, but did change their minds about filing a missing person’s report on both women. As expected, though, the local cops weren’t much help. While Brad and Jordyn were able to convince the detective they spoke to that Avery and Lori had been in the wrecked taxi, the man’s hands were tied without any witnesses. The driver was still unconscious at the hospital and the detective would interview him if he woke up. Other than that, the cops were currently useless to Brad.

  Cameron stepped forward and held out his hand. “Thanks for coming.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jase Atwood accepted the handshake and then another one from Brad, before clapping his friend’s shoulder. “Where’s Jordy? If I’ve got to stare at your ugly mug, I need her beauty to counteract the effects.”

  “Here I am.” Jordyn exited the bedroom, where she’d changed into black leggings, a T-shirt, and sneakers—definitely not an “I’m on vacation in the Caribbean” look. It was more of an “I’m an assassin on the hunt” look. “And you know better than to call me that. It’s bad enough Carter does, but him, I have to put up with—you, I don’t.” Despite her words and annoyed tone, she walked up to Jase and gave him a friendly hug and a peck on his cheek. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you again so soon, but I’m not complaining. Welcome to the party.”

  “Thanks for the invite. All right, fill me in.”

  As they took seats around the suite’s dining table, Brad studied the newcomer. In his midthirties, he stood about six one and carried around two-hundred pounds of solid muscle. Dressed in cargo shorts and a T-shirt, he blended right in with the island’s tourist population. His light- brown hair was just long enough to skim the neckline of his T-shirt, and his mocha-colored eyes didn’t seem to miss a trick. From what Carter had told him, the man was a mercenary of sorts and a contract agent of Trident Security, a Florida-based company comprised of bad-ass operatives, most of whom had come from the US military’s special-ops community. They also had other employees who’d come from the varying alphabet soup agencies employed by the government, such as the FBI, ATF, DEA, NSA, etc. Trident was one of the best private-security companies in the US, and thei
r multiple governmental contracts and successful mission rates were a testament to the fact. Brad and Avery had met one of the two brothers who owned the company at the party when Frisco had proposed to Haven. Ian Sawyer was a sarcastic son of a bitch, and Brad had liked him immediately. Sawyer was a bit of a legend in the Navy SEALs. Although most of his missions were classified, it was a good bet most of the rumors about his remarkable actions, leadership, and heroics on some hairy missions were probably true. Several of his SEAL Team Four teammates had followed him and his brother Devon into the private sector, having no doubts the new company would be a success. If Trident employed this guy, Jase, and Carter and Jordyn were also vouching for him, that was good enough for Brad.

  As they finished filling Jase in with what little they knew, Carter’s phone rang, and he answered it after a quick glance at the screen. “Reardon, tell me you got something.” He paused then snapped his fingers and gestured that he needed a pen and piece of paper. Jordyn slid both toward him, then started typing on the laptop in front of her. “Repeat that name . . . Uh-huh.” He jotted down the information he was receiving, and Jordyn glanced at it, before returning to her computer. “Address . . . Aliases? Relatives?”

  “Got the photo Kenny sent me,” Jordyn announced.

  Brad, Cameron, and Jase got up and stood behind her, looking at the image on the screen. Jordyn glanced up at Brad. “Recognize him?”

  Staring at the older Asian man, Brad shook his head. “Never seen him before in my life.”

  “Me neither,” added Cameron. “Who is he?”

  Carter disconnected his call. “Lin Chao. A man with a huge ax to grind and nothing more to lose other than his life.”

  “I’ll be happy to take care of that last item for him if he’s got Avery and Lori,” Brad said with a growl. Strangely the man’s name tickled his memory. He’d heard it before but couldn’t grasp where.

  Folding his arms over his chest, Carter read from the paper he’d written on. “Sixty-four years old. Former Chinese national. His empire, built on illegal trade, crumbled in the aftermath of his son’s death.”

  Paling, Brad got a queasy feeling in his gut. “Oh shit.” Everyone looked at him, but his horrified gaze was pinned on Carter. “You mean his son’s assassination.”

  The spy frowned and nodded. “Yes. Avery’s last mission.”

  As Brad ran a hand down his face, trying not to throw up, Carter’s phone trilled again. This time he put it on speaker and set it on the table, so everyone could hear. “Gene, you’re on speaker.”

  Director McDaniel, the man in charge of Deimos, responded, “Good. Colonel Barton, you have my sympathy and full support. We’ll do everything we can to help get Avery and your daughter back.”

  Taking a seat since his knees where shaking, Brad nodded even though the other man couldn’t see him. They’d never met but had spoken on the phone several times during and immediately after the joint mission between Deimos and his Delta teams when he and Avery had met. “Thank you, Director, but I’d like to know exactly how we’re going to do that.”

  Before the man could answer, there was a knock at the door, and he apparently heard it. “That should be your backup now.”

  Carter strode over, checked the peep-hole, then swung the door open, allowing two men to enter. One was blond, the other dark-haired, but both looked like they could kill someone in a variety of ways, then disappear into a crowd without anyone knowing what they’d done. Average height, average build, and no outstanding features helped greatly when working as an undercover agent. Carter shook hands with both as, over the phone, McDaniel made the introductions. “Colonel, this is Kell Brennan and Troy Dartmouth. Men, Colonel Barton is from the Army’s Delta. He’s in charge of the mission. Do what he says to get the women back, then hightail it back to your assignments.”

  Both men shook hands with Brad and nodded when he thanked them for coming, before Carter introduced them to Cameron and Jase. After the necessary pleasantries were taken care of, McDaniel said, “As Reardon and Caldwell told you, this is Avery’s last mission coming back to bite us all on the ass. After Lin Delan was dispatched, his father, Chao, was devastated to the point his competitors were able to take advantage. Before he realized it, his empire had fallen. Those he’d had in his back pocket had newer and bigger worries.”

  “Why wasn’t Chao taken out too, if he was such a problem?” Jordyn asked.

  “The head of China’s Ministry of State Security at the time knew all about Chao and Delan’s activities, unfortunately his wife and Chao’s wife were cousins. It was a family honor thing that kept him from ordering the death of either man, yet he was all too happy to let another government do his dirty work. Instead of being charged for his crimes, Chao was exiled under the conditions he would never attempt to return to China or enter the US and never go after the agent who’d killed his son. That last part was a purely political demand for reasons I’m not going to go into; they’re classified and not relevant to what’s going on now. Chao had reluctantly agreed with terms of his exile, knowing the alternative was another assassin’s bullet. However, one of Delan’s men had taken photos of the embassy people in the area immediately following the kill. After greasing the right palms, Chao learned which of them had executed the hit. It was one of the reasons I green-lighted Avery’s field resignation.” Brad knew the other but wasn’t going to repeat it. “In addition to son number one, Chao had a second—Lin Zheng. He was eleven at the time. In the aftermath, he was sent to live and study under a Shaolin monk. After that, he went to university and studied business. He now owns a resort on Aruba, and from what we’ve been able to tell, although his father’s money was used for the startup, he’s the complete opposite of the old man. Zheng is apparently an upstanding citizen with no skeletons in his closet other than his blood relatives. Whether he’s now involved with his father getting revenge, I don’t have that answer.”

  “So where do we find Chao?” Brad asked.

  “He’s got no properties in his name. Everything is under Zheng, so your best bet is to start with him at the Trade Winds Resort.”

  He stood. “Let’s go.”

  Carter’s hand on his arm stopped Brad’s beeline to the door. “Let me and Jordy deal with Zheng. You going in there looking like you’re going to kill the man might not be the best way to deal with him, or even gain access to him. While we’re talking to him, the rest of you can check out the other properties. Reardon said there’s three more—a warehouse and two estates.”

  Grinding his molars, Brad forced himself to act responsibly and not with the anger and fear coursing through him. Nor the feeling of wanting run into a place and rescue his woman and daughter without a well-thought-out plan. That could result in any one of them being killed. The spy was right. Brad would never let any of his men go off half-cocked, and he always tried to practice what he preached. That didn’t mean he had to like it, though. Lin Chao was the man holding Avery and Lori, of that Brad was certain, and that was the man he wanted to choke to death with his bare hands. He’d refrain from taking his frustrations out on anyone else—for now.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Burke, but Mr. Lin has a very busy schedule today. Without an appointment, I’m afraid there’s no way I can get you in to see him. If you’d like, though, he has some time available tomorrow afternoon.”

  Carter stood before the middle-aged receptionist. He’d introduced himself using his main Deimos alias—Carter Burke, CEO of a successful import/export business—having dressed for the part after stopping at a high-end hotel’s clothing shop. A white, short-sleeved, button-down shirt topped a pair of khaki pants and loafers, sans socks. His long hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, and he’d shaved before leaving their hotel. Just your every-day executive conducting business in the middle of his vacation. Behind him, Jordyn was looking every bit the wealthy woman with an eye for business, as she studied paintings and photographs of the resort that hung on the walls of the reception area. She’d changed again
and now wore a white, knee-length skirt, a red, sleeveless, silk blouse, and black and white, polka dot sandals, all with expensive, designer brands on the labels. Her long, dark hair had been put up into a loose bun, and a white, broad-rimmed, straw hat and the sunglasses in her hand completed the look. The sales clerk who’d helped them earlier had made a nice commission on their purchases.

  “Hmm. I’m afraid that won’t do. My wife and I are leaving tomorrow morning for the Philippines. I have some business there that can’t be rescheduled. I was hoping to speak to Mr. Lin about a small island I’ve acquired over there. I want to open a new resort, but wasn’t impressed with the one I’d come down here to see. After looking around the Trade Winds, I’m very interested in talking to Mr. Lin about the possibility of entering into a partnership or joint venture for the purpose of creating the new resort. But if he’s not available . . .”

  The receptionist’s eyes widened slightly before she glanced at the closed door behind her and then back to Carter. She stood with his business card in hand. “Um, I’m not sure if Mr. Lin has time, but if you give me a moment, I can let him know the reason you’d like to meet with him and the circumstances surrounding why it has to be today.”

  His smile grew while his blue eyes sparkled. “I’d appreciate that very much, Ms . . .”

  “Martens,” she finished for him with a blush. “Valencia Martens.”

  “Valencia. That’s a very pretty name.”