by Paige Tyler
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Copyright © 2017 by Paige Tyler
Cover and internal design © 2017 by Sourcebooks, Inc.
Cover art by Craig White
Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Contents
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
A Sneak Peek at Wolf Hunger
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Cover
With special thanks to my extremely patient and understanding husband. Without your help and support, I couldn’t have pursued my dream job of becoming a writer. You’re my sounding board, my idea man, my critique partner, and the absolute best research assistant any girl could ask for.
Love you!
Prologue
Adana, Turkey, 2013
“Crap on a stick! Why the heck did the weather have to pick tonight to unload on us?”
Alina Bosch glanced at her watch again before turning her attention back to the industrial buildings across the street from the small fourth-floor apartment they’d turned into a tactical operations center for the mission. She and her team were in the Yüreğir district, one of the low-income sections of Adana, where streetlamps were few and far between. That, combined with the cold rain that was coming down in buckets, made it nearly impossible to see what the hell was going on over there.
But she didn’t need to see much in the way of details to know it was time to move on their target. Two vehicles, one an expensive four-door sedan and the other a midsize moving van, had pulled up in front of the buildings ten minutes ago. The van had pulled straight through a roll-up door into a maintenance garage area while two men in dark clothes had left the sedan and run straight for the main door of the building. People making a delivery in the rain wouldn’t be unusual, but it was two in the morning, which made it damn suspicious.
Alina and the other four agents of her CIA team were in Adana to stop members of al-Nusra Front, a jihadist faction of the growing Syrian rebel movement, from obtaining the necessary chemicals to make sarin nerve gas. Analysts within both the CIA and NSA had good intel suggesting the group was close to a deal with a local supplier in Turkey for the two most critical ingredients to produce sarin—methylphosphonyl difluoride and isopropylamine.
The really scary part was that the rebel group didn’t intend to use the sarin against the Syrian government but instead planned to gas a few thousand innocent civilians—people they were supposedly trying to protect—hoping it would provoke the United States and other western powers into launching a full-scale war against the current Syrian regime.
Alina supposed that if you couldn’t take your enemy out by yourself, then you needed to get someone bigger to do it for you—even if it meant your own people had to pay the price.
As she watched the garage door roll down behind the moving van, Alina got a twitchy feeling in her stomach. The deal was going down right now; she was sure of it. If she and her team didn’t go in soon, they were going to miss their chance completely. If that happened, there was a good chance that a lot of people were going to die.
Unfortunately, moving on their target at exactly that moment was a problem, because her team was presently one person short.
“Jodi,” she whispered softly over her shoulder to the petite, dark-haired woman leaning back against the kitchen counter, cell phone in hand. “Anything on Wade yet? He was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.”
Jodi Patterson, the youngest and newest member of the team shook her head, her curls bouncing. “I’ve been alternating between calling and texting him for the past twenty minutes. No luck. He’s probably shacked up with some local girl, if he’s not sleeping it off in a ditch somewhere. Then again, it’s always possible he lost his cell phone in a damn poker game.”
Alina cursed. They didn’t have time for this. Next to her, Wade Sullivan was the most senior and experienced field operative on the team. Unfortunately, he was also the least reliable. Worse than that, he was the one guy on the team she flat-out didn’t trust. Crap like this was exactly why.
While the senior leadership back in Langley loved the guy, to Alina, he’d never been more than a problem waiting to happen. The man drank too much, got off on winging his way through every mission, and didn’t give a damn about the job he did or the people he did it with. It was a given that no one on the team trusted him to cover their backs. However, their bosses in the States seemed not to care about that since she and her team always got the job done—even if they did that in spite of Wade instead of because of him.
Alina left the window and walked over to the kitchen table to gaze at the floor plans of the industrial building spread out there. Looking at all the red marks and arrows drawn here and there, she groaned as she realized the worst part of Wade AWOL’s status. He was the intel lead on this mission. He’d not only come up with the tip that had led them here and had slipped in the previous night to scout out the building and bugged the room where the Syrian rebels and the local supplier were meeting, but he’d also scoped out all the entrances and blind spots. Even though all his intel notes were sketched out, she’d still rather have Wade here to go over everything one more time. Instead, he was off somewhere getting laid—or drunk.
“What do you have on the wire?” she asked Jodi.
Jodi pressed her fingers to the wireless earpiece she wore and closed her eyes. Pressing the earbud didn’t do anything, but Alina supposed it helped
her focus on what the people in the room Wade had bugged were saying.
“I have four, maybe five male voices,” Jodi said. “Two are speaking fluent Turkish. The others are using a combination of Turkish and Arabic. They’re mostly making polite conversation right now, but they’ve said the words anlaştik mi several times. That’s Turkish for deal. A few moments ago, one of the Arab men asked how many drums would be involved.”
“We going to do this or what?” Fred Stewart’s gravelly voice rumbled through Alina’s earbud over the encrypted channel. “If they’re already talking about deals and how many drums, there’s no way this meeting is going to last more than another ten or fifteen minutes. If we don’t go soon, we’re going to blow our chance.”
“I know,” Alina told her other teammate. “But Wade is still MIA, and our original plan was based on four of us going in. It’s going to be tough trying to pull this off with just you, me, and Rodney.”
“Not like we have much of a choice,” Rodney Miller said in his Southern drawl. “If they drive out of here with those chemicals, we’re never going to find them again. And when the Syrian people get attacked by some extremists using nerve gas, we’re going to know it was our fault. You ready to let that happen?”
Alina didn’t answer. Pushing the image his words had painted out of her head, she continued to scan the floor plans and maps on the table in front of her, trying to see a way three people could pull this off. But she couldn’t. There were too many doors, hallways, and rooms to cover.
She’d been working with Fred and Rodney for nearly four years. They were both well trained and knew how to handle themselves in a tense tactical situation. But there were at least five people in the building across the street, maybe as many as ten. This wasn’t a job that consisted of walking in and eliminating the bad guys. Her team didn’t do that kind of work. They’d been brought in to confirm these people were involved with a scheme to manufacture sarin nerve gas, then take them down while capturing as many of them alive as possible.
Stopping these guys with her full team would have been difficult enough. Trying to do it one man down when they were a team that was already too small for a mission like this would be nearly suicidal.
“You know,” Jodi said in a tone that suggested she knew Alina wasn’t going to like the next words coming out of her mouth, “I could take Wade’s place on the raid instead of sitting on my hands in here.”
Alina bit back a curse. She should have known.
The biggest reason Alina had grabbed Jodi out of the pool of new agents at Langley was because the girl reminded her of herself at that age. Smart, aggressive, eager, and more than a little bit reckless. Alina was taking her training slowly so Jodi wouldn’t end up making all the same stupid mistakes she had made back then. And because she and Jodi had become good friends. Maybe Alina protected Jodi more than she would have another agent in the same situation, but she wasn’t going to apologize for it.
“Forget it, Jodi,” she said. “You aren’t ready for something like this, and you won’t be for a while.”
Jodi made a face. “Are you serious? Dammit, Alina. I’ve been on the team for months, and so far, you haven’t let me do anything but watch computer monitors and listen to radios. This isn’t why I did all that training back at Langley. I’m ready for this. That’s why you selected me to be on your team, isn’t it?”
“I selected you to be on my team because I thought you had the potential to be a good field agent—with the proper experience. And until you get that experience, your job is to watch computer monitors and listen to radios.”
Jodi scowled. “How am I supposed to get any experience if you never let me do anything?”
Alina opened her mouth to answer, but Rodney interrupted her.
“Alina, I’m by the back entrance of the building near the garage. It sounds like they’re loading the truck,” he said softly into her earpiece. “If we’re going to do this, it needs to be soon.”
“Stand by,” Alina said to Rodney, then looked at Jodi. “Anything from Wade?”
Jodi glanced at her phone and shook her head.
“Dammit,” Alina muttered.
She and her team were here to stop this deal. That’s what they were going to do—with or without Wade.
Spinning around, she headed for the door. “I’m on the way down,” she said over the radio. “Rodney, you’ll go in the back as planned. Fred and I will go in the front. Once we get inside, he’ll split off and help you cover the garage, while I handle the conference room.”
The two men acknowledged the change in plans without comment. The adjustment would mean that Alina would be covering the largest concentration of bad guys on her own, but there wasn’t anything they could do about it.
Hand on the doorknob, she turned to look at Jodi. “Stay here and monitor the wire. Let us know if you hear anything.”
Jodi probably would have argued, but Alina opened the door, walked out of the apartment, and headed for the stairwell.
Outside, Alina yanked the collar of her leather jacket up as she jogged across the street, trying to keep the cold rain from slipping down the back of her neck. She was only partially successful.
“If this turns into a shoot-out, make sure you avoid those chemical drums,” Alina whispered into her radio as she hopped on the curb and moved closer to the building. “They may not contain nerve agent yet, but we don’t want to breathe that crap anyway.”
Fred reached the front door of the building before she did. After a quick peek through the glass, he picked the lock, then swung open the door. Alina drew her pistol as she met up with him. He did the same, covering her as they both entered.
“We’re in,” she whispered over the radio.
“Ditto,” Rodney responded.
Alina stopped for a moment, listening. She heard soft voices coming from a room down the hall on her left. She didn’t hear any other sounds, not even from the garage where Rodney said he heard them loading the van. Did that mean they’d already finished the deal and were about to move?
She gave Fred a nod and pointed in the direction of the garage, indicating she wanted him to back up Rodney. Tightening her grip on her pistol, she headed for the room down the hall. She was halfway there when she realized something was wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what was causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up, but then it hit her. The layout of the hallway and rooms off it was wrong. Or more precisely, the drawings Wade had made were off. The room the voices were coming from was on the wrong side of the hall, directly across from an adjoining corridor to her right that wasn’t even supposed to be there.
She shouldn’t have been surprised Wade had screwed up the details. He wasn’t necessarily big on that kind of crap. But combining it with the fact that he hadn’t bothered to show up made her stomach knot.
“We’re in the maintenance bay,” Fred said over the radio. “There are a few drums that might be chemical, but no people.”
Crap.
“Something isn’t right about this,” Alina said.
Her instincts were telling her to bail, but they couldn’t do that. Not until they apprehended the bad guys.
“We’re on the way to your location now,” Rodney said.
“Roger that.”
Taking a deep breath, Alina took another step toward the door. Even through the heavy wood, she could clearly hear the men talking inside. She didn’t have Jodi’s knack for languages, so she wasn’t sure what they were saying, but from the laughter, it sounded like the negotiations were going well.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Fred and Rodney hurrying down the hallway toward her. They looked as confused and worried as she was.
“Jodi, we’re going in,” Alina whispered over the radio before giving Rodney a nod.
Rodney stepped forward to kick in the door when Jodi’s confused voice
floated across the secure radio channel. “Guys, something’s wrong. The men are starting to repeat themselves. I think—”
That was all she got out before Rodney’s boot connected with the door, sending it flying back on its hinges. Alina and Fred followed him in, ready to deal with however many armed men they found.
The room was completely empty except for the portable CD player sitting in the middle of the table, Turkish and Arabic voices coming from the speakers.
Alina cursed. “It’s a trap. Get out!”
But it was too late. Men armed with automatic rifles flooded into the hallway. Alina scrambled over the table along with Fred and Rodney just as the men started shooting.
Fred flipped the table over, and Alina knelt behind it and returned fire, putting round after round through the group of men charging through the doorway. At this distance, it was impossible to miss her targets, and several of them went down.
But the reverse was also true.
Rodney went down first, a bullet hitting him right in the forehead. Alina felt her heart break as her friend slumped to the floor, but she couldn’t even spare him a glance. It was all she could do to drop the empty magazine out of her 9mm and reload so she could keep shooting.
Jodi shouted over the radio in her ear, but Alina had no more time for her than she had for Rodney. A bullet zipped past her shoulder while another whizzed past her head. Yet a third shattered the wood of the table she hid behind, showering her with splinters. Even though she knew any one of those shots could have finished her, she forced herself to ignore them, to accept that she wasn’t dead yet, and to shoot back as fast as she could.
Just when Alina was sure it was over, that there was absolutely no chance she and Fred would live through this, their attackers halted as another one of them fell to the floor dead. The remaining two spun and fled for the door. Alina clipped one in the hip just as he and his buddy disappeared around the corner.
Alina quickly reloaded in the event that the men came back with reinforcements. She’d just slammed the magazine home when a flash of movement on her right caught her eye. She turned in time to catch Fred as he started to sag to the floor.
