The Book of Joshua II - Believe (The Gems & Gents Series 3)

by Iris Bolling

  Roc looked up to see none other than Sly Dawson, the man who’d mentored them. Reaching up Roc grabbed the extended arm and was pulled securely onto the floor of the chopper.

  “Get us the hell out of here.” Sly ordered then looked down at Roc who was still on the floor of the chopper. “I see I’m still getting you and Absolute out of hot spots.” Sly grinned.

  “What in the hell took you so long?”

  “Patience was never your forte.”

  “Not when people are shooting at me, no.” Roc stood, then walked over to the bunk where Absolute lay still. Roc checked his vitals. His pressure was a little high, but that was to be expected after what they just went through. Taking a seat Roc gave Sly a murderous look. “Who’s shooting at us and why?”

  “The who, is the good old US of A. Why, is the question we need answered before we put Absolute in harm’s way.” Sly took a seat across from Roc. “What do you know about his mission?” He asked as he nodded towards Absolute.

  “Nothing. Ned may have an answer or two.”

  “He’s been silent since the initial contact.”

  Roc sat up. “Silent? Ned?”

  “Not a sound since I confirmed the transportation plans.”

  Roc thought for a moment, looked over at Absolute, then back to Sly. “He stays with me until I’m satisfied he can take care of himself.” Roc pulled out the handheld and pushed a button. No message was sent. Just notification they were going dark. No communication with anyone, until it was clear who was friend and who was foe. “Who’s flying?”

  “Melissa Sue. A friend of a friend.” Sly replied. “Who knows you are here?”

  “Mateo.”

  “Alejandro?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “A friend of a friend.”

  The two stared at each other. Trust was a dangerous trait to have in their line of work. Sly mentored several operatives, including Absolute and Roc. He taught them to give only the information needed to complete a mission and to limit the number of people you trust.

  “We’re about to have company,” the voice of the woman piloting the chopper yelled back.

  Roc stood. “I am tired of this. What’s on board?”

  Sly, reached behind the seat and pulled out a missile launcher.

  Roc smiled. “Never travel light when you can carry power.” Taking the launcher, then lying flat on the floor of the chopper, Roc yelled out. “Open the back door.”

  The back door slowly opened. As soon as the opening was wide enough, the swoosh sound of the missile launch echoed through out the interior of the chopper. Moments later the chopper following them exploded in mid-air.

  Roc sat up, placing the launcher back in its secured location. “Take us home.”

  Sly watched as the door slowly closed. He tilted his head towards Roc. “You think someone may notice a United States military chopper exploding over Texas?”

  Roc never acknowledged the question. “Take me to Atlanta. He’s with me until I know why the country he puts his life on the line for is trying to take him out.”

  Chapter Six

  Atlanta, GA

  Day Two

  The pain pierced through him like a bolt of lightning, waking him from what seemed like a long sleep. His eyes shot open. Years in covert operations taught him to put pain out of his mind and deal with the safety of his surroundings. The sounds from the monitor caused him to look to his right, then down at his hand. He snatched the clip from his finger, threw the covers back and stood. His knees buckled beneath him. Hands grabbed him from behind and eased his body back into the bed.

  “Not sure where you thought you were headed, but this bed is going to be your best friend for the next day or two.”

  Absolute felt the covers being placed back over his body. Once he was back on his back the pain began to subside. The chopper going down, the message to Ned all flashed through his mind. The voices approaching the crash site, being strung up, the knife slicing into his back, the blood dripping, the cold of the warehouse wall, came to mind. The man coming back, taking him for dead, cuting him down. Killing the man with his bare hands, running through the woods, finding the cabin, setting the explosives, all flashed like a movie across his mind. No memory came after that. He cleared his mind and was lost to the darkness again.

  What seemed like hours later, he slowly opened his eyes. Take a minute. Assess your situation. Drapes, dresser, television on the wall, beeping. He looked to his right, a hospital monitor showing his vitals. It wasn’t a hospital, the bed was too comfortable. Looking to his left there was an open door, yellow walls, a chair near the door, white carpet. He closed his eyes again, music was playing, someone was singing in another room. He inhaled, a scent hit his nostrils. A nice soothing scent lingered in the air. Light footsteps and the voice were approaching the room. He opened his eyes again. Standing in the doorway was the angel, singing. He attempted to get up again, he wasn’t ready to meet his maker.

  A small, but firm hand held him down. “Take it easy Absolute. I know you have a number of questions, as do I. However, you have a number of stitches in your back. I know because I put them there. Some of my best work, so I need you to be still.”

  Absolute tried to move again.

  The single small hand held him down again. “I will strap you in if I have to. I don’t want to, but I will.”

  Absolute looked up, surprised by the strength of the hold. “You’re real,” he said more to himself than to her. “I thought you were an angel.”

  “Sorry, I’m quite real. I’m too stubborn to let you meet your maker today,” the woman smiled.

  He stared, at her, smiling at him. The wonderful scent from before was more prominent now. It was her scent. He could not remember a perfume fragrance that smelled so smooth. Large, expressive, brown eyes, encased in coco brown skin looked back at him. There was no makeup, yet her skin looked flawless as she leaned over tucking him back into bed. It felt like Sally taking care of him when he was young. The woman looked nothing like his mother, it was just the way she covered him with such care. No, this woman was not his mother for his body was having a reaction to her touch. He basked in the comfort she was providing as he wondered who was this woman with thick kissable lips. Those lips reminded him of another pair of lips that were also kissable. He frowned.

  Roc noticed the change in his demeanor the moment the frown appeared. Having no idea what was going through his mind, she continued. “Are you in pain?”

  “No,” he replied even with pain ripping through his back. Never let the enemy know your weakness.

  “Okay,” the woman stepped back then stared down at him. “We appear to be in a bit of trouble with our government.” She raised an eyebrow. “You have any idea why?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Roc.”

  He was about to turn away when the answer registered. Recognition hit him immediately. He turned back and stared at her. “Recovery Operative Commander?”

  “I see your brain is intact,” she smiled.

  “But, you’re a woman.”

  “As is half of the world’s population. Is there a point.”

  Agitated, he attempted again to sit up. “They sent you to get me? A woman?”

  “You have a problem with women?”

  “I have a mother and six sisters. No, I don’t have a problem with women. I have a problem with you. Get Ned on the phone.”

  Calmly filling the needle to give him another dose of pain medication, Roc smiled down at the man, who seemed agitated by her presence now. “How can you have a problem with me? You don’t know me.”

  “I know enough about you. Get Ned or get Sally and I’ll contact Ned myself.”

  Roc was stunned by the bitterness of the man’s reaction. Oh, she had been up against men before, questioning her abilities when she was named Captain of the recovery team. It was rare she was held in such contempt, once she had rescued them. “Don’t know who Sally
is but Ned went dark about twenty hours ago.”

  The statement captured his attention and he stopped struggling to get up. “Ned went dark?”

  She nodded then bent to give him a shot. “He did. Right after I reported on your location.”

  Absolute sat up then. “Don’t put me under.” He lay back down then exhaled, willing his mind to take over the pain. He reached around. “ Where are my clothes?”

  “If you don’t want me to put you under. Sit still.”

  He stilled then watched as she walked over to the dresser. Approximately five six, Absolute estimated. Nice breasts, small waist, and round hips. Thirty-six, twenty-four, thirty-six: yes, nice. He closed his eyes to the thoughts going through his mind. He was not going down that road again.

  Roc pulled a plastic bag from the dresser. “This is what you were wearing when I found you in the cabin.”

  Absolute took the bag, opened it and pulled his suit blazer out. Reaching inside he pulled out the letter from the inside pocket. He sat back relieved. “I need to speak to the President.”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “The reason you are here, in a safe house, instead of in your home is because US forces attempted to shoot us out of the air, twice.”

  “What happened?”

  “I retaliated.”

  “You took out a United States aircraft?”

  She shrugged. “They shot at us, what was I supposed to do, welcome them to my bed?”

  The thought of this woman taking out a military aircraft almost made him smile. But then reality set in. the United States of America, the country he had put his life on the line for many times over the last fifteen years, was attempting to kill him. Hadn’t they taken enough from him?

  “Where am I?”

  “Atlanta.”

  “Georgia?”

  “Is there another Atlanta?” she asked raising an eyebrow.

  He threw the covers aside again, sat on the side of the bed, but did not attempt to stand. “I need to get to Virginia. Get me a secure line.”

  “No can do until I know why our government is trying to kill you.”

  “It’s not our government,” he shook his head, “At least not the loyal members of our government.”

  “The government is the government. There is the United States military, which in someway you and I are a part of. There’s the good guys and the bad guys. Which are you?”

  He stared at the woman. “You are ROC, you trained under Sly Dawson the same as I. What do you think I am?”

  “That’s the only reason you are still alive. Sly vouched for you. Like him, we have no idea what you have been involved in for the last three years. You’ve gone rogue. How do we know you haven't been compromised?”

  Did she just question his loyalty to the United States? Who in the hell was she to question his loyalty to his country?

  The expression on his face was easy to read. “I realize, even injured, you are a dangerous man. But don’t let the little body fool you. Jump, and I will take you out. Now I ask again. Why is the United States military trying to kill you?”

  She stood just out of reach, as any sensibly trained agent would. Her stance indicated she could react to any action on his part, quickly and decisively. She wasn’t young, like Monique. There was a maturity about her. But damn if she wasn’t pretty. “Sly trained you?”

  Roc nodded, “He did. So you know it’s not going to be easy for you to take me down. Notice I said down, not out.” She looked him up and down, “In your current state, it wouldn’t even be a fight.”

  “Hmm, cocky are we?”

  “Is there any other way under Sly?”

  Absolute grinned, then shook his head. “No,” he exhaled. “I need to make that call.”

  “No.” she was adamant. “I don’t want anyone to know you are alive or where you are until I’m clear on who is the enemy.”

  He attempted to stand, but did not quite make it. “This is a matter of National Security,” Absolute stated as he began to feel himself sway.

  “What’s in the letter?”

  Absolute looked at the letter then back at her. “The President’s eyes only.”

  “Then you have a problem. Until you prove to me it’s not President Harrison who ordered that transport to fire at us, we are not contacting him. Think of someone else.”

  Absolute understood where she was coming from. He would demand the same thing if he were in her shoes. But she didn’t know JD Harrison, he did. However, whoever tried to take them out was still looking for him. That he was sure of. What he was not certain about was, whether the VP’s office or the VP himself was involved in this situation which to him, fell into the area of treason against the United States. Like she said, he could not swear the President did not send Gary to sell the weapons in the first place. We have been known to supply the enemy with weapons before. It just did not seem like something the JD, he knew, would do. But he had to be certain.

  “Fair enough. Contact Samuel Lassiter.”

  She hesitated, “Hurricane?”

  “Yes, you know him?”

  Roc pulled out her handheld as she nodded. “About as well as a wife would know a husband.”

  The statement made Absolute frown. He watched as the woman dialed a number. “You’ll need a code to speak with him.”

  “It took you long enough to answer,” the woman said with a warm smile as she listened to the reply. “Goldie locks?”

  How did she know the code, Absolute wondered. “Is that Samuel? Let me speak with him.”

  The woman ignored him as she listened to a reply then she disconnected the call.

  “He’ll be here in about an hour.” Roc walked over. “I’m putting you back into bed. I realize you were gathering your strength while we were talking. But believe this. I will take you down, shoot you up with drugs and you will be out before your head hits the pillow.”

  “You’re a bad bitch if you think you can do all of that.”

  “I am bad, what I’m not is anyone’s bitch.” She gathered his legs and placed them back into the bed. “You rest for that hour.”

  He allowed her to have her way, this time, for she was right. He needed to gather his strength. She reached for the letter and he grabbed her wrist. “This stays with me.” He released her then placed the letter under his pillow. Her shoulder length hair, splayed across his face from the closeness. It was as smooth as silk. Akande crossed his mind. Her hair wasn’t processed, but it was as soft as cotton. He shook the thought away. “How do you know Samuel?”

  “We work together.” She replied as she stood.

  “How do you know Hurricane?”

  Not trusting her with more information then she needed he replied, “We work together from time to time.”

  “It seems we’ve found our first common ground. We both trust Hurricane.”

  ❖❖❖

  Roc sat at her kitchen table with a glass of wine. The national news was on the television, but her mind was on the man downstairs. There was something familiar about him, but she knew for a fact she had never worked with the operative known as Absolute before. And why did he become angry at the thought of her being a woman? What was that all about? She kicked her shoes off and put them in the chair next to her. The truth was her body reacted to him.

  When she undressed him in the cabin, her mind was focused on finding his injuries. She was strictly in medical mode. Washing his body down, once she was home, was an entirely different matter. The man had the body of a warrior, in every sense of the word. Muscles ripped his arms, his abs, and good lord, the thighs. The man had powerful legs. As tough as she was, there was no way she could ignore the sexual member of his body. Even in the limp status it was long, thick and tempting.

  She released the air building up in her. It had been a long time since she had been with anyone. It was by choice, but maybe that was the reason this man was affecting her. There was something about him
that reminded her of someone else. She just couldn’t put her finger on what. Shaking the thought from her mind, Roc began to think of the situation they were now in. Secretary Davenport was her contact in Washington. It was because of her relationship with him that she took this assignment in the first place. She had resigned from the agency five years ago because she wanted to settle down, get married, and have babies. The things normal women did. Roc, however, was anything, but normal. She was raised in foster care and learned early how to take care of herself. During high school she joined the ROTC and found it was a way to pay for college. She received an ROTC scholarship, which allowed her to get a degree in nursing. She excelled in the program, served her base eight-year stint in the Army, which gave her time to attend medical school. Choosing research over clinical she received a doctorate in medical research. She was able to apply those skills when recruited by the CIA to handle the recovery of injured agents. That led to her being trained by Sly Dawson on how to bring agents home safely. Her brains and beauty allowed her to infiltrate areas and situations that men could not. It only took her a few years to demonstrate that her ability, to supply medical assistance and recovery skills, was superior to others. She was named Captain of the recovery unit, gaining the name of Roc along the way.

  Roc never revealed her real identity to anyone, nor did she ever let her close associates or her one true friend know what she did for a living. They all believed she was a professor at one of the colleges in the area. However, those in the agency or connected with the agency knew and admired her. They were all stunned when she stepped away from the agency at such a young age. At thirty, Roc wanted a chance at having a family. At thirty-five, she had only met one man she would consider doing that with. Unfortunately, that man was someone she did missions with therefore making him unattainable at the time. Now, that same man was happily married with children. Leaving her to search the world for the man to father her children. No takers so far.

  Roc reached over to pick up the remote when she saw an image of President Harrison on the screen. Now, that’s a fine specimen of a man and of course he was taken. She pushed the volume on the remote to hear what was being said.