Stealth Ops Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  “You have enough hardware here to spy on the entire Eastern seaboard,” Asher mused while eying all of the turned-off screens and tech inside Javier’s apartment.

  “I work for the FBI. Of course, I have a lot of equipment.” Javier swerved his attention back to Sam as he handed her the envelope.

  “Since when do Feds let you bring your work home with you?” Asher pointed a finger at him. “You’re a video-game addict, aren’t you?”

  Owen eyed Asher and lightly shook his head, warning him to leave the guy alone. Asher wasn’t the biggest fan of the government with the exception of the military. He’d never liked the alphabet soup of agencies, and Asher hadn’t exactly been candid as to why. Owen wasn’t itching to ask, either.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.” Javier pointed to the envelope in her hand. “I’ve been at the office nonstop, working some big case these last few days.”

  “Oh?” Owen wondered if Javier had been commissioned to help track down their missing people. Handlin had mentioned the FBI was working the case.

  “Who’d you say you are again?” Javier asked, a threat of distrust in his tone.

  “We didn’t say.” Owen’s mouth tightened. He didn’t like the guy for some reason, and when Javier turned to press his hand to Sam’s shoulder and lean in toward her, he knew why.

  The guy had a thing for her, didn’t he?

  “If you need anything, I’m here for you,” Javier said.

  “Thanks.” She smiled, and even though he didn’t know her well, it looked forced. “Please don’t tell anyone about this picture. Okay?”

  “Of course not.”

  “That’s not a request, just so we’re clear.” Asher’s voice had become low and gravelly.

  “I don’t take orders from you.” Javier turned Asher’s direction. “But I’ll keep this thing under wraps for Sam.”

  Owen wanted to give him a few more reasons to shut his mouth about the image, but what could he say? He couldn’t expose the truth of who he was; he’d leave that up to Handlin to deal with later.

  Javier refocused on Sam. “Maybe, when my caseload is a little lighter, we can get a drink?”

  “Sure,” she quickly said. “But we should really get going. Thanks again.”

  He stole one last look at Javier, then he tipped his head goodbye and followed both Asher and Sam out the door.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Asher said once he was behind the wheel of the SUV.

  “Why was it awkward?” she asked, and Owen resisted the impulse to look back at her; he kept his eyes pinned to the envelope in hand.

  “Well, your boy Javier looks like he still has it bad for you. You two used to hook up, huh?”

  This elicited a cough from Sam, and it had Owen glaring at him. “What the hell, man?”

  Asher gave an innocent shrug. “Calling it like I see it.”

  “And my sex life is none of your business,” she snapped.

  Owen sure as hell didn’t want to talk about it, either. The way her FBI pal had been looking at her, it was obvious Javier had a thing for her.

  “I’m surprised Javier works for the government. I expected someone a little stiffer, without all the tatts,” Asher said.

  “And what do you do?” she asked. “Have you looked at yourself?”

  Asher looked up, probably catching her eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m sure as hell not government.”

  Well, technically speaking, they kind of were, but he wasn’t about to call Asher on that with Sam in the car.

  His racing thoughts came to a halt at the sound of his ringing phone. “It’s Jess,” he announced. “Maybe she has news.”

  “Did she go to my place already?” Sam asked.

  “Maybe.” He brought the phone to his ear. “Hey, Jess.”

  “I’m still at Sam’s,” Jess said straight away. “And you’re not going to like what you hear.”

  The damn woman always built up the suspense, and it drove him nuts. “And?”

  “We found a small dime-sized bug in her living room smoke detector.”

  “Shit.” He dropped his gaze to the envelope and then hurried to open it. “If someone was listening, then it’s possible—” His heart slowed at the sight of the correct photo.

  “If this guy was listening to your conversation last night, he’d also know Sam made copies, so it wouldn’t matter if you retrieved the original one he sent her or not.”

  Owen nodded in agreement, his heartbeat slowing back to its normal pace. “Well, did you learn anything based on the bug that was used?”

  “It’s an American-made device and not one you can exactly buy on eBay,” she answered.

  “Which tells us what?” Owen asked.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked from behind.

  He pivoted to face her briefly and mouthed, “One sec.”

  She nodded and sat back into her seat.

  “There’s not a serial ID on the bug, but there’s a batch number. I might be able to pinpoint where this particular batch was sold. These bugs are normally sold in bulk. I should know since we’ve made similar purchases for Scott & Scott.”

  “Surprised it’s American. Figured it’d be Russian.”

  “Yeah, it does throw us a bit of a curveball based on the phone call she got.” The line became quiet for a moment. “But there’s more I need to tell you.”

  His stomach tensed. “What?”

  The line was silent for a moment, and he knew the blow would be heavy and hard. “Someone was watching her over a secure camera feed. The camera was positioned in the ceiling vent in her bedroom.”

  He hung his head, not wanting to tell Sam the news. He couldn’t imagine how she’d feel to know someone had been watching her, in her bedroom, no less.

  He pivoted to face her, trying to steady the angry pound of his heart before he spoke. “When was the last time the government did a sweep of your home and office?” Given her line of work, he assumed there’d be standard-issue checks to prevent intel leaks.

  “They checked my apartment and office two weeks ago.”

  “We’re looking at a two-week window then,” he told Jess.

  “Camera may not have popped up on their radar, though.” She hissed through the line. “I’ll do my best to track the feed, but for now, why don’t you head back to the hotel and wait for news from Handlin. I’m also bringing her laptop with me.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  “Can you get her password?”

  “Jess wants to check out your computer. What’s your code?” He met Sam’s eyes, and her browns softened.

  “Rose 2008.”

  He thought about the tattoo on the inside of her arm. 2008, the year Brad and Jason had died. Now he knew her ink had to do with the loss of her fiancé, which wasn’t terribly surprising, but back in Mexico, he’d just assumed she liked the flower.

  He faced forward with a tightness in his chest and repeated the password.

  “Luke checked out Handlin’s home, and no one was there,” Jess announced.

  Owen clamped down on his back teeth then a thought came to mind. “Check the hospitals.”

  “What?”

  “All that coughing yesterday. Smelled like he’d been in a hospital recently.”

  “Right,” Jess said, her tone softening as if she was angry she hadn’t thought of the idea herself. “Okay. I’ll be in touch.” She ended the call.

  “What’s going on?” Sam asked after he’d lowered the phone from his ear. She wrapped a hand over the top of his seat, her fingers skirting his shoulder.

  How could he tell her what he’d learned without making her skin crawl? “They found a bug in your smoke detector.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “But they also discovered a camera in your bedroom.”

  She scooted back onto her seat and cupped her mouth, her long lashes dropping down.

  “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what else to say on that matter, so he hoped to redir
ect her focus. “We should have enough to go on to try and figure out who the hell has been keeping tabs on you.”

  “Oh, God.”

  He patted the envelope against his thigh. “We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

  “What about my parents? Shouldn’t I tell them now?”

  Asher looked to Owen, his gaze hardening, and neither of them knew what the hell to say.

  Chapter Nine

  “You were jealous in the car.” Asher leaned his shoulder against the wall in the hall outside the hotel door.

  Owen balked. “What?”

  “I was testing you back there. You should’ve seen your face at the idea of Sam and that Javier dude hooking up.”

  Owen lowered his eyes to the floor, unable to meet his friend’s stare.

  “I get it. You guys hooked up in Cabo, and no one wants to think about a woman with another guy, but—”

  “First of all, we didn’t have sex, and second of all . . .” He’d already lost his train of thought, too pissed Asher had pulled him aside before going into the hotel room to have this heart-to-heart. What was with all his friends jonesing for these kinds of conversations lately?

  “You stayed overnight in her room. Are you trying to tell me you didn’t screw?” A dark brow arched in question.

  Owen shook his head. “No, we didn’t.”

  Asher’s mouth tightened and curved down slightly in surprise. “Well, good. But you need to stop looking at her the way Luke looks at Eva.”

  “I don’t look at her in any way.”

  Asher faked a laugh. “Don’t lie to me, man. I know you.”

  “Maybe you don’t.” He turned, about to swipe his card to get into the room when Asher’s paw of a hand wrapped over his shoulder.

  “You can’t go down this road with her. This whole situation is complicated enough without adding to the mix she was Brad’s woman.”

  Owen slowly turned and expelled a deep breath. “I know that. Trust me.”

  Asher lifted his shoulders. “This could end badly, and I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Well, I’m good. And why the hell are we having this conversation, anyway? There’s much more important shit to talk about than my love life.”

  Asher lifted his palms in surrender. “Love life?”

  “Just get ahold of Luke—find out if Handlin’s okay.” He handed Asher the envelope with the original image inside. “I can’t keep holding Sam back from telling her parents what’s going on.”

  “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He nodded then walked away.

  Once inside the hotel room, he saw Sam pouring a mini blue bottle into a Styrofoam coffee cup. “You raided the mini bar?”

  She looked up from the cup. “I’ll pay you back. Promise.”

  He smiled. “You sure you want to drink at”—he checked his watch—“two in the afternoon?”

  “Mm-hm.” She settled onto the chair by the window. “My dad just messaged me. He got Senator Abrams on board. We got the last signature.” She faked a laugh. “Everything is in place, but now . . . it may not matter.”

  “Don’t think like that, Sam.” He closed the distance between them and rubbed at the tension at the base of his skull.

  She rolled her lips inward, wetting them. “You called me Sam.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You called me Samantha last night, and I was pretty sure you’d never want to . . .” She let her words die, and maybe that was for the better.

  After a few blinks, she raised the cup back into the air.

  “This is a celebratory drink, then.” She hiccupped. “Cheers to my dad for getting Abrams on board.” She took another sip. Actually, it was more like a heavy gulp.

  He cocked his head, studying her. She was a beautiful and strong woman who was willing to go to bat with Russia—but right now, she looked fragile and a little broken.

  “I also think I deserve a drink since I found out someone has seen me naked and been watching me for maybe two weeks.” She stared down at the carpet in a daze, the realization possibly slamming into her at the moment, and then she tipped back the rest of her cup.

  Yeah, he couldn’t blame her on that. The idea had him wanting to fix himself a stiff drink, too. “Well, can I at least order room service, so you don’t get shit-faced on an empty stomach? My hangover cure might not work tomorrow, otherwise.” He lifted the phone. “What can I get you to eat?”

  “Something greasy and unhealthy.” She stood and retrieved another small bottle from the minibar. “And maybe some juice to mix with this.”

  “Sure.” He forced a smile, even if it didn’t feel right to wear at a time like this.

  After ordering the food, he went to the bathroom, hoping to pull himself together.

  He was hanging by a thread, and damn, he wasn’t used to that.

  The past twenty-four hours had been a bit much, even for someone like him.

  He braced the bathroom counter, and memories from his past shot through his mind, which had him drawing his eyes closed.

  Brad and I are going to head to Sin City for my birthday next week while on leave. Do you think you can make it? Brad’s bringing his new girlfriend, so I need my wingman. Besides, you can tell the ladies you’re a pilot. I can’t exactly say what I do, Jason had said over Skype.

  I won’t be able to get off base. Sorry, man. I promise I’ll make it up to you next year.

  There hadn’t been a next year, though.

  His hand turned to a fist atop the counter as he peeled his eyes open.

  He stared at his reflection for a minute, guilt twisting in his gut that he’d lived to see another day while so many hadn’t.

  Brad’s new girlfriend: Sam. And now, here he was, in a hotel room with her.

  When he found the energy, he left the bathroom, and the band of tension in his chest lightened a fraction at the song now playing from the music station on TV.

  “Tiesto.” He sat on the edge of the bed.

  She looked up from her cup and smiled. “I almost forgot we have the same taste in music.”

  “You ever see him perform?”

  “Yeah, once. You?”

  “Nah, never had a chance. I’m sure it was an incredible experience.”

  She took another sip, this time, without wincing. “I saw him perform when I went backpacking across Europe for three months.” Her lids became heavy, but she kept her eyes open. “I was planning on blowing off law school after Brad died.” Her chest rose and fell with slow breaths. “But I made a deal with my folks that, if they let me go to Europe, I’d stick with the plan to go to law school after.”

  It’d been a rough few months after Jason had died for him and his family, too. But he’d been in the service, and as much as he maybe wanted to, he couldn’t take off and make the world go away.

  “You ever hit up Ibiza?” he asked, needing to think of anything other than losing his brother at that moment.

  “Of course.”

  “I assume your dad wasn’t a fan of you going to places like that.”

  “He’d have a heart attack if he ever knew I went to raves.”

  “Sounds like your dad stresses about a lot of things,” he noted.

  “It’s the life.” She tensed then released a nervous light laugh before a somberness took hold of her face. “But, back then, the music sort of made me feel alive again. I’d felt so dead on the inside; it was like pressing one of those defibrillator things to my chest when being surrounded by free-spirited people and an electric bass.”

  I know the feeling. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

  “It was hard coming back home after feeling so free.” She wet her lips and pulled her bottom one between her teeth as she stared down at the floor.

  He tried not to drop his gaze to her long, tan legs—but he couldn’t help himself. He remembered how those legs had felt wrapped around his hips as he’d held her pinned to the wall in the hotel room a few days ago.

  “Owen?” Th
ere was a velvety rasp to her tone when she said his name.

  “Yeah?”

  The knock at her door must’ve silenced whatever she’d wanted to say. He grabbed the room service and handed her the burger and fries before proceeding to make her a cocktail.

  “You own the tavern now,” she said softly. “You must know a thing or two about making drinks.”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t work there much these days.” He stirred the fruity concoction he’d made.

  “That’s where Brad and I met.” She paused. “Where he proposed.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck stood, and her words had his hand stilling midair, the liquid dropping off the plastic spoon, splattering onto the desk.

  “Crazy, right?” she whispered, her words light as air but heavy as fucking bricks in his mind. “My best friend and I went to Charleston for a weekend, and we were bar hopping. I met Brad there. He introduced me to Jason.”

  He slowly turned with the drink, and their eyes connected as he handed it to her, their fingers brushing during the exchange.

  “I haven’t been back there since . . .” She allowed her words to trail off, and they both remained quiet for a few minutes.

  What was there to say, after all?

  She’d met Brad in the bar he owned, a place he escaped to when he needed to pretend it was okay just to kick back and have a drink and chill—hoping the world wouldn’t fall apart while he took a second to relax.

  And now, that bar was a place of pain for her.

  He tensed at the thought, then coughed into his fist, needing to change the subject. “So, uh, what’s the deal with that Javier guy?” He wasn’t sure how that question had managed to roll off his tongue.

  She smiled, though. And hell, for a second, her smile managed to melt away the awkwardness, like she had a blowtorch in hand.

  She shrugged. “We met at a political fundraiser two years ago, and he’s been asking me out for months.”

  “Based on the way he was looking at you, I’m gonna have to say you’ve been turning him down?” He stole a fry from her plate since he hadn’t ordered himself any food. His appetite had been less than stellar, and eating was the last thing on his mind.

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “You said back in Mexico you’re not looking for a relationship. Some guys have trouble understanding a woman focused on her job, I’m betting.”