Shamrock: A Linear Tactical Romantic Suspense Standalone

by Janie Crouch

  He wanted his sister back, wanted to be able to protect her. Aiden understood.

  “Okay,” Gabe finally whispered.

  “Are we almost ready to roll?” he asked Gavin, who had always been the team’s most technically savvy member. Finn and Dorian, the final two members, were double-checking weapons and gear near the door. They were all aware that this mission was outside the parameters of the law.

  Not a single one of them cared.

  But their intent was not to kill. Although all of them had their personal choice of handguns somewhere on their person, most of the weapons they carried were for the temporary takedown of their enemy—tranquilizers and stun guns.

  The plan was to get Violet safe, then call in law enforcement to clean up the mess. They would say they just happened to stumble upon the place during a Linear training exercise.

  Amazing how that tended to happen.

  “We’re good to go, but . . .” Gavin’s brows were furrowed as he studied the screen.

  “What’s wrong?” Zac asked.

  “Maybe nothing. Hopefully, nothing.”

  “Okay, what’s the potential problem?” Aiden asked.

  “I was just looking through the tracker’s transmission history. There were some abnormalities with Violet’s tracker.”

  “It’s not working correctly?” Gabe came over to study the computer with Gavin. Whatever he saw, he obviously didn’t like any more than Gavin had.

  “Shit,” Gabe muttered. “I double-checked this tracker myself. Didn’t want to leave any room for faulty tech or some sort of malfunction. This is one of the most robust transmitters my R&D department has ever made. It should not have been giving off spikes like that.”

  “I was as gentle as possible with it while placing it on Violet,” Aiden assured the other man. “It was definitely functional when Violet left me.”

  “What would’ve happened if someone found it on her?” Zac asked.

  Gabe scrubbed a hand over his eyes. “Well, it’s still transmitting. So if someone found it, then they didn’t deliberately destroy it.”

  “If they found it and left it transmitting on purpose, that would mean they know we’re coming,” Aiden said. “They’ll be ready for us.”

  A situation their team had firsthand experience with.

  “It’s possible,” Gavin said. “As we all know, that’s always possible.”

  All of the Linear Tactical team looked over at Dorian. He had been the one to pay the price when they’d been ambushed in Afghanistan because the enemy had known they were coming. He’d spent weeks in an Afghani prison and had barely survived.

  And even though he had survived, he’d never been the same. He still struggled with PTSD so badly, it was difficult for him to be around people for long periods of time.

  The big, quiet man knew what everyone was thinking. He just shrugged. “We go anyway. As long as there is a chance Violet is there, we go. I’ll be okay.”

  “Is there something I need to know about here?” Kendrick asked. “If there might be some sort of meltdown, I’d like to know ahead of time.”

  “There won’t be,” Zac said. “Dorian can handle himself just as well, if not better, than every person in this room. Regardless of whether the bad guys know we’re coming or not.”

  Dorian just shrugged again. “As long as I don’t have to sit around and make small talk with them, we should be fine. Now, if I’m required to do any sort of entertaining, then yeah, you might have to put me down.”

  It seemed to be enough to reassure Kendrick. The younger man gave Dorian a quick nod.

  Gavin was still studying the computer screen. “Honestly, I don’t think they found it, because that still wouldn’t explain the inconsistent transmission early on. I don’t think they know we’re coming.”

  Aiden didn’t like the look on his friend’s face. “That’s good news right, Redwood? Why are you saying it the way people normally say ‘dead baby seals’?”

  “The only time I’ve ever seen a transmitter behave this way was when we had one on someone who tried to climb an electrical fence. Got the hell shocked out of him. The tracker still worked, but it gave off inconsistent readings because of the damage done by the voltage.”

  Finn shook his head. “Are we saying that there’s some sort of fence where they’re holding Violet? Or that she made some sort of escape run?”

  No, that couldn’t be right. There would’ve been nowhere for her to run at that party, not naked like she was. And if she’d understood what he was saying about them coming for her, why would she have tried to make an escape on her own?

  But if not, then how had a bunch of voltage damaged the tracker? The only other way would’ve been something like . . .

  Oh shit. Oh God no. Bile pooled in Aiden’s stomach. He turned to Gavin, who obviously had already figured out what had happened.

  “How many times would she have to be hit to do that sort of damage?” Aiden croaked.

  Gabe’s fist came crashing down onto the metal table as he put the pieces together himself.

  “Jesus,” Zac whispered. “Taser?”

  Gavin nodded. “Multiple times for it to have damaged the transmitter to this extent. Honestly, we’re lucky it’s working at all. She must’ve taken at least one shock straight to her neck near the transmitter. If it had been on, the voltage probably would’ve blown its circuitry to hell, and we’d have no reading at all.”

  Hard to be thankful that she’d been tortured by an electroshock weapon multiple times before the tracker had been turned on.

  “Let’s focus, people,” Zac said, voice calm, solid. “Location hasn’t changed. Objective hasn’t changed. And at least now we know that Violet might be hurt. Let’s prepare for that contingency.”

  Gabe was still hunched over the desk, staring at the computer, the edge of the desk in a death grip in his fingers.

  Aiden touched the man’s shoulder. “Gabe, let’s get her home.”

  Then Aiden turned to Finn, who nodded, his lips pinched and face a little pale. Who could blame him? His woman was still in the hospital, another would-be victim of Stellman’s plots. “We’re ready. Let’s go.”

  The ride to the location was made largely in silence. Everyone had their own way of preparing themselves for what was to come . . . and the wait until the action occurred, which was almost more difficult.

  Aiden had missed this. Although he loved the work they did at Linear Tactical, loved teaching civilians how to survive in dangerous situations, it wasn’t the same as the active missions they’d done together as Green Berets.

  The closer they got to their target, the more settled he became. Preparing for action was like muscle memory for him, for all of them. Aiden’s senses became more acute, everything more crisp and focused.

  He knew what was to come. The moment he stepped out of this truck into the night, prepared to infiltrate the building, he would feel the blood begin to race through his veins. But his mind would stay calm and detached, remote from the adrenaline that would flood his body.

  Successfully completing the mission was the priority. It always had been, but this time especially. Aiden forced thoughts of Violet, of what she may have been through, from his mind. In order to be the most efficient, he had to be detached. Failure wasn’t an option.

  The men in this van, his team, his brothers, would not let that happen.

  Gavin held out a fist, almost as if he could hear Aiden’s thoughts. Aiden bumped the other man’s knuckles the way he had hundreds of times. He looked over at Finn and Zac across from him. Both gave him a brief nod.

  Aiden would go in first, get to Violet, to make sure she was out of harm’s way if things went sideways. The rest of the team would take down the tangos once Aiden had her safe.

  The vehicle pulled to a stop, and they exited into the cover of night.

  It was time.

  Chapter 8

  Randy had decided to have some sort of party.

  Violet was in th
e corner of the windowless room. Her wrists were zip-tied and attached to a hook on the wall above her head. Agony burned through her shoulder joints every time she tried to move. Which wasn’t often because no other parts of her body seemed to be working right either.

  Everything hurt.

  And, moreover, help wasn’t coming. How could it be when she hadn’t been able to keep Aiden’s jacket and whatever tracking device had been in it?

  The hopelessness was worse than the pain, knowing she’d been so close to helping herself get rescued, then lost it all because she’d been stupid.

  Why had she fought?

  She was smarter than Randy. She should’ve figured out a way to keep the jacket that didn’t involve a physical altercation she couldn’t possibly have won. She should have used her brain to convince him that keeping the jacket was a good idea. Or better yet, his good idea.

  She should’ve done that instead of trying to fight, which had gotten her tasered until she couldn’t move and given her an intimate knowledge of a level of pain she hadn’t even been aware existed. A pain she would do anything not to experience again.

  When they’d gotten back to the house, Randy had dragged her back to her room when she couldn’t walk herself. Then evidently, he’d gotten a glimpse of himself in the mirror because he’d come back in, grabbed her by the hair from where she’d lain on the floor still naked, and yanked her over into the corner. After securing her arms above her to the wall, he’d grabbed her chin.

  “I’ll be back for you later. You’ll be paying for the damage you did to my face.”

  His voice wasn’t full of his normal bluster. He’d said it quietly, so full of promise that a slimy panic curled its way around her throat, crushing the oxygen out of her.

  She had little doubt the “no sex” rule was over.

  His friends had shown up a few minutes ago, four of them. They were loud and generally obnoxious, and obviously drugs were involved. She couldn’t see them, but hearing them through the thin walls, even from the living room near the front of the house, was no problem.

  Maybe Randy would party with them until he passed out and completely forgot about her.

  She swallowed a groan as she tried to shift her weight to ease one leg that was falling asleep. The pull on her shoulders was agonizing. She tried to stop the tear before it escaped her eye and down her cheek but couldn’t. She refused to cry. Mostly because having to wipe her nose and not being able to do so was the only thing that could make this situation worse.

  “Can I have a word with you in the other room, Randy?” Randy’s friends barely lowered their volume as Dillon yelled over them.

  “Can’t it wait?” Randy whined. “I’m trying to enjoy a little downtime here.”

  “No, it can’t. And tell your friends to keep it down.”

  Randy and Dillon must have moved into the room right next to the wall she was restrained to, because she could hear them much better even though they were speaking at a lower volume.

  “Mr. Stellman gave you specific instructions. No one was to know about this location. Nor was Ms. Collingwood to be removed from here. Now you’ve done that twice. Mr. Stellman isn’t happy.”

  “Look, I’ve never even met Stellman. He’s never around. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

  “Mr. Stellman doesn’t take lightly to people who work for him not following directions. It’s how he’s run his organization so successfully for so long.”

  Randy’s tone turned cajoling. “C’mon, Dillon. There’s no need to tell him about anything. I promise, I won’t take the girl out of the house anymore. And I’ll get rid of my friends. Don’t rat me out.”

  “Mr. Stellman has stayed on top this long by not allowing his people to do whatever they just feel like. You were given a specific task: escort the women when they were to be at certain places and not allow Ms. Collingwood to escape.”

  “And I have! Look, man, as soon as I meet Stellman, I swear I’ll be on the straight and narrow. I’ll be on the straight and narrow now.”

  “You’ve already met Mr. Stellman, Randy, and he isn’t very happy with what he’s seen. He likes to check out all his new employees himself to see if they pass muster.”

  “What?”

  A phone chirped loudly. Violet twisted her head so she could press her ear closer to the wall.

  “What was that?” Randy’s voice was loud and fast. “Is that text from Stellman? When did I meet him? Was he at one of the parties? Shit.”

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “Look, don’t tell Mr. Stellman I screwed up. I’ll do better, okay? I’ll get rid of my friends, no more taking the redhead anywhere.”

  “I won’t say anything to Mr. Stellman.” Dillon must have moved closer to the door, farther away from her wall. It was harder to hear him. “Just stay here with your friends. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll talk about it when I get back.”

  Maybe she should be more reassured with one less criminal in the house, but she wasn’t. Maybe the Stellman guy would come here and kill Randy because he couldn’t follow the rules.

  When the door to her room opened a few minutes later, Violet whimpered and tried to sink back further into the corner. It couldn’t be Randy—she could hear him out in the living room.

  At her small sound, a beam of light flew into her face. The light after so much darkness caused her to blink and turn away. It immediately shut off.

  Before she could even ask who was there, a hand closed over her mouth. She tried to move away, gasping at the pain even as the thought crossed her mind that screaming would probably bring more trouble than help.

  “It’s me, Firefly.”

  Aiden?

  “You’ve got to be quiet, okay?”

  She nodded under his hand. He let go of her mouth and reached over her head. A second later she felt the tension in her arms suddenly relax as he cut through the zip tie that had restrained her. Even that tiny movement sent anguish screaming through her shoulder joints, and she sucked in her breath, swallowing her sob.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  Before she could ask him why, he pulled her arms from above her head, straight down into her lap.

  This time swallowing her sob wasn’t an option. All she could do was keep it as low as possible. She felt like her arms were being ripped out of their sockets. His fingers pressed firmly into the balls of the joints, massaging the swollen and aching tendons. The spike of agony flew down her spine, and white dots danced in front of her vision.

  “You’re doing so great. Breathe with me, Firefly. In. Out.”

  She couldn’t see him but followed his instructions, breathing as his deep, gentle voice told her to. Grimly, she hung on to consciousness as his fingers continued kneading the traumatized tissues for a few more moments until the pain lessened, and she could at least move her shoulders.

  “How did you find me?” she finally asked. “Randy took the jacket. Wouldn’t let me bring it.”

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead before reaching behind her ear. She felt the tiny lick of pain of an adhesive being ripped from her skin.

  “Oh.” It had been on her person all along. The fight for the jacket—and all the pain she’d endured afterward because of it—had been for nothing.

  Aiden had kissed her just to put the tracker on her.

  To be hurt by that was beyond ridiculous. Aiden had been doing a job. She should be thankful he was so good at it, not act like a teenager who’d been scorned by her crush.

  But she was still hurt, stupid as it was.

  “We need to get you away from this wall,” he whispered.

  “Why?”

  “I’m not here alone. We just want to make sure you’re safe if things get a little more rowdy than we planned.” He touched his neck. “Control, this is Shamrock. I’ve got the package. You’re clear to proceed.”

  “You’ve really got a whole team here?”

  “Absolutely. Now, let’s get you away from this
wall in case any shots are fired.” He stood and held his hand down to assist her.

  She tried to stand but her body had taken too much damage today. Too much trauma. Her muscles just wouldn’t work. “I can’t seem to move. I’m sorry.”

  He reached down and scooped her into his arms.

  “Wait! I’m too heavy.”

  He kissed her forehead again, keeping her high against his chest as he crossed the room. “Featherweight.”

  The way he moved so quickly with her, so easily, she almost believed him.

  He set her gently on the ground behind him, then pressed something on his neck again. “Control, Shamrock. We’re on the south wall. You’re clear to breach.”

  He helped ease her down so she was sitting low on the floor. Then he crouched in front of her, pulling her head against his chest and wrapping his arms around her.

  “What’s going to happen?” she whispered. “Is it going to be loud?”

  “Not if everything goes the way we expect it to. But keep your head down just in case.”

  His big body was surrounding her on just about every side. Anything that was going to hit her was going to have to go through him first. “What about you? Are you bulletproof or something?”

  “My mom always said I had a hard enough head to stop a bullet. Plus I have a Kevlar vest. So we should be okay.”

  They sat in silence for a few moments. “Maybe at some point after this we could meet each other when I actually have some clothes on. You know, just to try something different.”

  His deep chuckle was enough to almost make her forget the situation. Make her forget her body had been so abused that she couldn’t even make her muscles move at her command. That this man, whose name she wasn’t sure she actually knew, had seen her naked multiple times. “That’s a deal,” he whispered. “And I’m sure Gabe has clothes for you in the van.”

  The thought of having to walk, or be carried, naked even in front of the good guys sent ice through her veins. She wanted to ask Aiden to help her, but the man was already shielding her body with his own. What more did she really want? But she couldn’t be naked again in front of a group of strangers. She couldn’t stand it. Her throat started to close, making breathing impossible.